#Bucky Barnes au
Part Nine: We learn not to get on Yelena’s bad side
We reached an abandoned train station in Birmingham.
“Why are we here?” Rou asked, as we got off the motorbikes.
“We have a train to catch,” Natasha said.
Yelena looked to her right, and smiled.
“Here it comes,” she said.
A steam train chugged up the tracks.
“We have to jump onto it; it won’t stop here,” Natasha explained.
“Right,” I said, still on the lookout for the cyborg. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but I still felt uneasy.
“Let’s go now!” Natasha shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Yelena and Natasha jumped up with ease into the last train carriage, which was open.
Instantly, alarm bells ran in my head as Rou and I joined them.
Rou shut the door behind us, and was then knocked to the ground.
The cyborg mechanic had him pinned down.
I swore loudly, and went to run to help Rou, but Yelena beat me to it.
She hooked one leg around the mechanic’s neck and the other around his thigh. She grabbed one of his arms, and pulled it back hard.
I could tell she was leaning all her weight into him, and it reminded me to never get on her bad side.
The mechanic got up and stumbled back, but Yelena held on.
“I-I’m sorry,” the mechanic choked out in a hoarse whisper.
“You promise not to hurt us?” Yelena hissed.
“Yes, I promise!”
Yelena got down and pulled out her gun, aiming it between his eyes. The rest of us did the same, but the mechanic seemed harmless.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just wanted my motorbikes back.”
I wondered if Yelena had inadvertently done some damage to the man’s voice, but then Rou spoke up.
“They did that, didn’t they?” He asked, pointing to the mechanic’s neck.
“They cut my vocal cords so I use my false ones. They also gave me this arm and my metal leg.”
I hadn’t noticed until now, but he walked with a limp.
“What’s your name?” I said sharply.
“Caleb. Caleb McLuhan,” the mechanic said.
“Who hurt you?” Natasha asked.
“The Saints,” Caleb said grimly.
He then told us his story.
“I was recruited five years ago, after I got into a car accident which cost me my left arm and right leg. They, um, experimented on me. They put an implant in my brain. You can see the scar here,” he said, pointing to a scar just above his ear on the shaved part of his head.
“Anyway, that implant controls the circuits and the arm and leg. I also have implants in my eyes that can change to different colours. Right now, they’re yellow.
“Anyway, they experimented on me, and sent me out on my first mission, which was to assassinate someone - I can’t remember who. I did it, but obviously the person was high up enough to get an elite kill squad on my back, so I ran.”
“The Saints found you, didn’t they?” Natasha said quietly.
“They cut my vocal cords as punishment. I escaped from them, and ended up as a mechanic.”
I thought his story over; there were a lot of similarities between his and mine and Natasha and Yelena’s past.
It made my blood boil that stuff like this was still going on.
“What are you guys doing anyway? Where are you going?”
“We’re going to Aberdeen to talk to someone about The Saints,” Yelena explained.
“Why do you want to know about The Saints?”
“We’re going to take them down,” I said.
Caleb smiled at me.
“You know, I’m not just a mechanic. I know about The Saints as well. Can I come with you?”
“Sure,” Rou said. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Caleb’s story was harrowing enough, but I had a feeling we were being watched.
I got up from the floor, leaving everyone asleep, and walked into the next carriage.
Everyone was asleep, so I walked very quietly through the carriage. I had my hand gun out, just in case anyone decided to attack.
I walked into the next carriage, and then I heard the door behind me open.
I slowly turned around to be face to face with girl in a a yellow rain with frizzy red hair and freckles on her face.
She had green trousers and brown hunting boots on.
She couldn’t have looked much older than nineteen.
“Hello, Mr Barnes. I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, and punched me hard in the jaw.
As I fell down, I hit my head against one of the train seats, knocking me out cold.
I woke up to see a bright light in my eyes.
I shut them tightly, and then slowly opened them up.
The light was a bright lamp shining in my face.
I looked down to see I was strapped to a table.
“Karli, please take the lamp out of our guest’s face,” a posh English woman spoke.
The girl who knocked me out on the train - Karli - skipped over to me, and took the lamp away.
The room I was in had a strong disinfectant smell and white walls.
I heard the click of high heels make their way closer to me, and I saw a tall woman with black hair scraped back into a ballerina bun and bright red lipstick smile at me as she came into my line of vision.
She wore a red shirt, blazer and a long tight skirt.
She walked up to me, and looked down.
“Well, he’s a fine specimen, isn’t he?” She purred.
I didn’t look at her; I didn’t like this place at all. It reminded me of being with the Russians.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The woman smiled.
“I’m Sonia. I run The Saints. Now, according to my knowledge, you know where two of my best agents are.”
As it was with far too many of Darcy Lewis’ major life decisions, becoming an author of romance novels started as an act of pure spite.
“If you think it’s so easy to write “recycled garbage” why don’t you give it a shot?” her mother challenged. “It’s not like you’re busy with anything else.”
Darcy glanced around the table at all the expectant looks thrown her way. “Fine, I’ll do it. It’ll be easy.”
Her mother smirked into her wine. “We’ll see.”
A wintershock modern/no powers au featuring romance novelist Darcy Lewis.
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SamBucky Soulmate AU when everyone has a symbol of their soulmate on specific body parts.
Bucky has a huge wing tattoo on his back that the same as the new suit while Sam has a three-legged white wolf tattoo on his left deltoid.
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The Night Has a Thousand Eyes - Chapter 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (Lilliana Vossi)
Series Warnings: surrogacy, pregnancy, previous miscarriages, panic disorder, loss of a loved one and child in a car accident
Chapter Warnings: things ramp up a lot here, angst, more angst, and a sprinkle of angst, Lilliana has a serious panic attack in this one, panic disorder, doctors, emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, a smidgen of fluff, mean things are said to Bucky
A/N: The depiction of panic disorder in this chapter is based off of my own research and personal experience with anxiety. It is not meant to offend anyone, or romanticize the illness. If you think or know that you or someone you know suffers from this condition, please go see your family doctor immediately, as they are qualified to treat it.
One of my OFC's from another fic that I have planned out makes an appearance (again, hint she was also mentioned in my Aerophobia oneshot), if you wanted to play a game of 'Where's Waldo?' lol.
Thanks a bunch for reading! Hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it.
Catch up with the rest of the series here.
Copyright Notice: I do not own any of the images or dividers used in this post, credit to their original owners. I do not own any of the Marvel characters, they belong to Marvel. This is my own creative piece of writing, you do not have permission to repost it as yours on any other sites and/or translate it (without my written permission). That counts as plagiarism, which is illegal. Reblogs are fine, and encouraged!
Tuesday morning coffees became a regular thing for the two of them. It always started with the obligatory Alpine check-in, with photos, videos, and questions from Bucky’s end, and eventually fell into light and easy conversation.
Bucky had taken to spending his spare evenings at the shelter, when everyone else besides her had gone home, helping with the animals or cleaning the floors. He even bought dinner for the two of them the evening of Alpine’s first appointment, so the two girls could have a proper reunion. Needless to say, they were both extremely happy.
Having spent almost the past year with Lilliana, he felt himself morph into something more pleasant and sweet. With Alpine curled against his chest, he gazed at the ceiling in anticipation of the next day.
That had been a feeling he hadn’t felt in decades...anticipation.
The word itself made him feel all giddy inside. Just the act of wanting something more than the day had to offer, craving it. He shook his head in disbelief. At the sudden movement, Alpine shot up her head from his chest and glared at him. He cooed softly at her, bringing his left hand up to scratch her head.
She ran hot, and found the cooling sensation of his arm comforting; accepting his apology, she settled back down purring as he let his thoughts run wild.
Yes, it had been a wonderful year with Alpine, and the ever-growing ivy plant, which had grown so much that he was able to give a small branch to Tony’s assistant.
His little snowflake was extremely fond of a strange combination of hide-and-seek and tag. She’d run up beside him, and lightly hit his calf with her paw and run away. That was a sign that he had to run after her, find her hiding place, tag her back and run for his life.
Sometimes, in the middle of one of their rounds, usually when she realized that she was going to get tagged, she would grip his hand with her claws and try to pull him down. Once he was crouching on the ground beside her, she would start biting and wrestling with his hand. If he managed to get a gentle hold on her mouth, she would turn her mouth and bite the area between his thumb and pointer finger, bunny-kicking at the rest of his palm. But as soon as he made a sound of pain, she would let go immediately, accepting his defeat and challenging him to another round.
Sometimes, she would use this wrestling as a ploy for their original game, suddenly stopping her attack on his hand, tapping his arm and taking off in a flurry of white fur and pink paws, again.
He tried to ignore the torn onesie underneath his bed, he really did. But, though he would defend Alpine with his life, she didn’t have chubby little arms that reached out to him, or small squirming legs that would kick at the air when she saw him and her laughs never bubbled up in her throat...not that she could laugh.
He had managed to refrain from buying another onesie, or the extremely adorable little blue tutu and matching headband that came up in his advertisements, when he was, ironically, looking for a new knife. Otherwise, he tried to keep his days filled.
Sparring with Sam or Steve, helping the new recruits or taking care of Alpine, since she had become somewhat of a brat when it came to his attention. Bucky had also started gearing up for his two-week long mission. By ‘gearing up’, he meant going through Alpine’s elaborate daily routine with Steve six times a day, and then doing the exact same with Natasha, just in case Steve broke his foot and wasn’t physically capable of doing the routine...and knowing his best friend, it was highly likely.
He also didn’t know why he suddenly felt so guilty about missing Tuesday coffees with Lilliana either.
It wasn’t particularly guilt he was feeling. Recently, he’d started providing daily Alpine updates to her personal phone number, though they would quickly morph into another one of their conversations. He was much more open and inviting over text than he was in person. He also didn’t notice the sly looks the rest of the Avengers would exchange when he would spend hours on the couch, holed up inside his phone with a grin plastered over his face.
Really, he reflected, it wasn’t guilt, but some weird form of fear and desolation at the fact that he would probably not be in contact with Lilliana for a whole fourteen days.
Come to think of it, actually, it seemed that he was more concerned about not seeing Lilliana for so long than seeing Alpine. Since when did that happen?
Shaking the thought out of his head, he finally got out of bed and started to get ready for his Tuesday morning coffee. He had big news to tell his friend today, and he had an even bigger favour to ask of her.
“I see you’ve already ordered for me,” Lilliana smiled cheekily at the sight of the coffee cup across from Bucky, shrugging off her coat. The weather was warming up nicely, and everything and everyone seemed to be in celebration of the promise of sunny days.
Taken aback at her blunt comment, he started to blush and scratched at the back of his head, downcasting his eyes to the table, “Of course, I mean-you don’t have to drink it if I got it wrong, I’ll pay for this and the next - god, incredibly rude of me to - and if you want to leav-”
“Bucky!” she laughed at his flustered state and took a sip from her drink. “I was only joking. Of course you got it right.”
“Sorry,” he said meekly, staring at the rim of his cup.
“Nothing to apologize for, it was sweet,” she kicked his leg under the table and hunched over as if in confidence. “Now, how’s my best girl been doing?”
He pulled out his phone, grateful for the distraction from his panic. Alpine had recently found a ball of yarn hidden in a small corner of the storage room, and he had doused it with some catnip oil, which made the cat go insane. She had played with the ball so much that it had turned into a knotty mess, with loops of yarn hanging out of it from every which way.
At this point, everyone in the tower had a video of Alpine beating the living daylights out of that poor yarn. There were even some agents that had approached him to see the famous wrestler and her victim.
But out of all the reactions he had witnessed to Alpine’s videos, Lilliana’s quickly became her favourite. He had recently become extremely fond of the wrinkles around her eyes when she saw something funny. Or the way she picked at the inside of her palm while she watched the video. Or the way her dark hair fell like a waterfall from behind her shoulders and framed her face.
Soon, the conversation took a turn to Lilliana’s work, and Bucky had the pleasure of leaning back in his seat and listening to her animatedly talk about the recovery that one of the newest rescues was making.
In the earlier days of their friendship he was taken aback at how her body would almost vibrate with excitement while recounting her stories, like she was impatiently waiting to go back to the clinic. For Bucky, her enthusiasm and sheer joy for her work, to get back to it immediately, was something foreign and alien. It took him a while to get used to, and even longer to appreciate.
What had he done to deserve her warm presence in his life?
She was nothing short of sweet, just like little Alpine, and he couldn’t imagine being where he is today without the help of his two best girls. Because three days before, Steve sat down with him at the dinner table and brought a list of possible options for surrogacy and adoptions, with different organizations for both.
He had skimmed through some surrogate profiles, and they had all seemed like generous and kind girls, however, he found himself constantly gravitating towards the ones that had the same shade of black hair as Lilliana, and her matching dark eyes. So, of course, after a year together, he could only see a future where the mother of his child was her.
“But enough about me, what’s been keeping you busy these past few days?”
He chuckled nervously, “Nothing much.”
“Come on,” she prodded further. “I thought we were past the awkward small talk phase.”
“Oh we are…” it’s just that what I might say next might make us strangers again. “Unless you don’t-I mean, like if you want to go ba-”
“What’s up with you today? You’ve been real jittery,” she paused. “If you want we can go to the clinic, or maybe just call it a day, I mean I don’t-”
“Have my baby.”
Lilliana’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her face froze for a couple of seconds, while the gears in her mind started to turn. She blinked twice, then twice more - Bucky counted - before angling her neck a little to look out the window they were sitting beside, and finally turned back to Bucky and met his eyes.
To be honest, he had been expecting a similar reaction, and he had planned on breaking the news a little easier… so much for that. What he didn’t expect was for her to bark out a laugh, before silencing it by forcing her palm on her mouth, as tears gathered in her eyes, “What did you say?”
And what could Bucky say? After literally demanding her to carry his child, could he just tell her to calm down, that there wasn’t any rush, and that there was no pressure for her to agree to do this?
In a perfect he would have said all of that, told her about all the steps he’d taken to reach this point, how the baby would have nothing short of the best life he could offer them, provided her with some brochures and pamphlets, and finally asked her to think about it, and take as long as she wanted. And that, most importantly, their relationship would not be impacted, no matter what decision she made.
Of course, like an idiot, he had decided to blurt it out, with absolutely no respect for her own autonomy. “I…” he trailed off, looking down at his covered hands in shame. “I want a baby.”
“You?” she winced immediately. “Sorry…”
He made a dismissive gesture, hell, that’s what Steve said that fated night.
“Bucky,” she said, and stopped when he didn’t look back up at her. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
Finally, at the nickname, he was able to take an easy breath and guiltily met Lilliana’s eyes, “Sorry, I didn’t...it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”
She made an amused sound at the back of her throat, “I figured.” Shifting around in her seat a little, she said, “But Bucky, you know there are like...organizations that…” gesturing with her hands to make her point.
“I know, Steve found a couple and I’ve been looking through their files this past weekend.”
“Then I don’t understand… do you need me to support you through the process?”
He took a deep breath, now that it was out there, and they had both recovered from the shock, he finally had his chance to reiterate his point, “Lilli, I want you to be my surrogate. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I’m sorry for the blunt delivery. Take as much time as you need, I can give you some websites and-”
“You haven’t been in contact with any potential women in these organizations?”
“It’s not like that, you’re-”
“So, you haven’t?” she frowned and crossed her arms against her chest.
“But, I didn’t want just anyone to-”
“Don’t lie to me, James.”
“I’m not,” he pressed further.
“Oh, you’re so pathetic,” she spat. “Bullshit you didn’t contact someone else before coming to me. Nobody would want-”
“But, I didn’t! You’re the first-” his heart rate started to pick up and a stitch formed in his chest, why couldn’t she understand?
“For the last time, don’t lie,” she said between gritted teeth. “Is it that hard for you to have a little respect for me?”
“I don’t understand-”
She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief at him, “‘I, I, I, me, that’s all this-” gesturing to the two of them “-is for you isn’t it? You get rejected a couple of times and think, ‘who would have the mental instability to want to carry the Winter Soldier’s child’? Of course! Yours truly!”
Bucky, by this point, was looking down at the table to conceal his trembling lower lip. He couldn’t bear to look into the warm, dark brown eyes that he always found comfort in, like a deep chocolatey hug, to be hardened over in hate.
Of course she was right, she was always right. How dare he even try to pretend that there was anyone willing to help him fulfill this childish and hopeful dream of his? Hope was for Steve Rogers, not Bucky Barnes.
“Did you even think about how that would make me feel?” she asked a little, her tone a little softer, but it instantly hardened.
“Of course not you selfish prick. You monster, all you know how to do is take and take and take.” Exasperated, she stood up and grabbed her coat, ripping it on her shoulders. Before leaving the table, she leaned forward, “I hate to break it to you, Sergeant Barnes,” he winced at the title. “But you can live for a hundred more years and no one is going to want to have your baby… least of all me.”
She tried not to think about it. She tried to push away the thought when it came to her. But instead, she gripped the edge of the thread and unravelled her line of thinking till she found herself shaking in the corner of her office with tears streaming down her face.
After that day in the coffee shop she sent Bucky a curt text saying that she would still be Alpine’s veterinarian, and that their relationship would be confined to only what concerned the patient.
It had only taken her a simple glimpse at Alpine’s file. Her second appointment was coming up and she wanted to bring her history back up to working memory. While skimming the information, she remembered the night when Bucky had taken Alpine away from her.
That same night, three hours earlier, she had been in this exact same position, triggered by the sudden fear that the patient files were not alphabetized by last name, as they should have been. Now, it was just the fear of seeing Bucky again, would he even want anything to do with her after what she had said?
Ok… ok. She had to find something to ground her, anything. Reaching for the hair tie, she pulled it back and started to snap it repeatedly against her wrist, trying to even out her breaths with the stinging sensation on it. Soon, it became impossible to follow the soothing pain with her chest, so she started matching the rhythm of the elastic band with her shallow wheezes.
The first time this had happened was the week before her GRE, where she stumbled upon a photo from her high school graduation. Looking at the smiling, joyful face, she no longer could feel the same emotions she did when it was taken.
So, she tried harder, trying to simulate that same sense of relief and nerves that she had felt, but she kept coming up empty-handed. When she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the picture glass, she gasped in horror.
There was no way that this gaunt face with dark circles under her eyes and acne littered across her face was that same person. She had fallen to the ground, back then, ignoring the shattering of the glass and gripped the carpet till her fingers turned white, trying to reorient herself.
The next couple of times happened in veterinary school, different exams and deadlines snowballing into an avalanche of stress. It was when she was walking away from her boards’ exam, and the thought of having another attack, sent her into another attack, that she forced herself to do the elastic trick. And for the next ten years, it had worked out smoothly enough for her, except for once, but she was already in the hospital when it happened.
Originally, when these attacks had subsided, Lilliana had to take the next twelve hours off, sipping gently at a cup of warm water and staying in bed. When she felt stable enough to walk again, she would run herself a hot shower and scrub herself to the point that she would rub away some of her skin, and she felt good as new.
Over the years, she had managed to reduce her recovery period to half an hour. At this point, these attacks had turned into a nuisance. She would ride the wave, snapping the elastic against her wrist until she was able to breathe normally again, get up, wash her face and get back to the rest of her day. She was a busy woman after all.
Except this time, the elastic wasn’t working. She was sure that she had bruised her wrist from the amount of times she had snapped the hair tie on it. Pulling the elastic harshly back, it snapped in half and flew across the room. On cue, her breathing picked up pace, and a wave of nausea ran through her.
No, no, no, no, no! She could not throw up in her office!
Gasping, she tried to shift her weight forward to stand up, but promptly lost her balance and fell down on her front. Shivering at the sudden cold, she broke out into cold sweats, something that hadn’t happened since her last residency exam. Her small baby hairs began to stick to her forehead as she tried to inch her way across the floor towards her private bathroom.
When she finally did, already losing feeling in her shaking hands and shifting uncomfortably at how her shirt was sticking to her, she looked up and started to sob. How was she going to reach the doorknob?
She was horrible. This is how she was going to die, on the floor of her office surrounded in a pool of her own vomit, all alone in the world except for a couple of traumatized animals, more broken than she was.
All because she couldn’t open a door.
Such a useless piece of trash she was.
Because it really wasn’t her inability to open the door, it was so much greater than that. It was really what had caused her to be on the floor in the first place, why she was shivering like an aspen tree leaf though there was a literal pool of her own sweat and tears gathering on the ground underneath her face. And it was all because she had glanced down at the file in anticipation of what was to come. Another rush of nausea lurched into her throat.
She could even see the headline on a sixth-page headline in a local tabloid newspaper: Veterinarian Chokes on Her Vomit, Dies Alone, No Traces of Alcohol or Drugs in System. Of course they wouldn’t find anything, maybe some ibuprofen because she had a headache that morning, another telltale sign that she had ignored… she craned her neck and stared in contempt at the door handle.
Would they even know why she was vomiting in the first place? No, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that one word: alone. Alone she came into this world, and alone she would come out-
“Lilliana!” The door of her office was slammed open as it accompanied the sound of Bucky’s distraught voice. His panicked eyes searched the office in fear, heart shuddering at the thought of what could have happened to her.
It wasn’t hard to place where she was, hidden behind her desk and reaching for the handle above her, the rattling of her voice in chest gave away her position instantly. Bucky ran around the desk and cursed at the sight of her practically convulsing on the ground.
“Go...away…” she managed out between wheezes.
Ignoring her protests, Bucky crouched down beside her and managed to get one of her arms around his shoulders, supporting her as she came up in a weak sitting position. He gasped at the feeling of her cold and sweaty body against his, “Christ, Lilli, you’re freezing.” Grabbing her two hands, he placed them around her neck, trying to warm them up.
Instead, he flinched as she started to breathe even quicker, her chest rapidly moving up and down, her gasps cut into chunks by intervals where her chest would stay risen for half a second as the air got stuck in her throat.
Rushing, he took her hands off her neck, “Alright, alright,” he took a deep breath, trying to calm down his heart rate. He pressed her hands onto his neck, “Here ya go, there we are,” he covered one of her hands with his and moved it to his chest, trying to maintain eye contact with her glossy eyes. “C’mon, follow me...that’s it, you’re doin’ so well.”
A couple minutes of eternity later, Lilliana’s breathing managed to calm down, though it was nowhere close to Bucky’s steady rhythm. It was more like a chopped up version of a breath. As she took in air, her chest rose shakily and a wheezing sound, like rusty pipes, came out of her throat, hiccuping as the air filled her lungs.
It was certainly enough to allow her to move her hand from Bucky’s neck and place it above his, still clutching her other hand on his chest, and start to push weakly. Bucky practically flung himself at the wall across from the two of them; he really didn’t blame her for not wanting him around, she had made that abundantly clear the last time.
He was going to leave after he made sure that Lilliana was safe, and call an ambulance on his way out.
But he wasn’t quick enough. As she tried to reach for her trash bin, she threw up on her pants and some of it fell on the bottom of his jeans. He stared in horror at her state, as she kept vomiting. He took his phone and dialled 911, “Lilli, I’m going to call an ambulance, alright?”
“No…” she swallowed deeply. “Don’t...go…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he pushed down the panic that was steadily building up, and ignoring the pool of vomit on the ground, came and sat beside her, holding her gently in his arms. “I’ll be right here until they come here, and when I know you’re safe…” I’ll leave.
The operator soon connected him with the lead paramedic that was on the way to them, who told Bucky, if possible, to give Lilliana an aspirin, or blood thinner to reduce blood clots. His heart lurched when the paramedic said she suspected a heart attack. Rummaging around in her desk, he managed to find a bottle of ibuprofen, and handing her water bottle to her, made her take two.
“Alright, it’s alright, Lilli, I’m here, you’re safe and help is coming,” he said, trying to memorize the soft curves of her face and hands, praying that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
Soon enough, the paramedics burst in with a stretcher. Bucky could feel her heartbeat picking up at the sudden influx of activity in the room and he suddenly felt guilty as to whether or not he made the right choice. The lead paramedic ran through the list of her symptoms with Lilliana, confirming with Bucky when her memory seemed too hazy to recall it. All the while, she took her pulse, blood pressure and temperature.
“It doesn’t seem to be a heart attack, trembling too violently for that,” she said to the rest of the team and room and to Lilliana, “Do you have a history of heart disorder in your family?”
When Lilliana mumbled something unintelligibly, the comforting sensation of lying down on her back too much for her, the paramedic turned to Bucky, who had a lost expression on his face. Sighing, she stood up and moved to shuffle the stretcher out the room and into the ambulance, “She still needs to be treated for her symptoms, give her 0.5mL morphine and heparin, each, just in case.”
As they made their way to the door, Bucky stood awkwardly where he was sitting beforehand, playing with his fingers. The best thing he could for Lilliana right now, was to clean up the mess on the floor, it was clear that she didn’t want him around, so all he could do was hope desperately that it wouldn’t always stay like-
“Sir,” the other paramedic called to him. Bucky looked at him, frowning, “She’s asking for you.” He looked down and saw Lilliana’s weak hand reaching out behind her, rasping out his name.
Gaping, he followed them into the ambulance, clutching onto Lilliana’s hand desperately to the music of the sirens as they made their way to the hospital.
Lilliana never really understood why, when she was volunteering at her local hospital, patients were so bothered by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Sure, it wasn’t Mozart, but it could easily fade into background noise. Now that she had woken up with a spinning head and dry throat, a stinging pain in right arm where an IV band was attached, it felt that every beep was a personal insult.
Groaning, she shifted her head to look at the room around her. Nothing too interesting, a window with a view of the adjacent building, hospital blue walls, linoleum floors and two chairs pushed to the edge of the wall to her left, right beside the doors. By the looks of the elongated shadow of the window, the sun was either rising or setting; time seemed to be meaningless in a hospital, there were no clocks in her room.
Almost on cue, as the heart monitor picked up pace, the door to her room was opened by a woman with tired eyes and a white coat, walking in with a clipboard, “Morning, Dr. Vossi, bit of an early riser aren’t you?”
Before she could respond, the woman went over to the adjacent table beside her bed and poured her some water, “I’m Eden Meier, I’m your assigned doctor.” She waited for Lilliana to finish her drink, and then said, “You had a pretty serious panic attack, has this happened before?”
She nodded, enjoying the sensation of the cold water in her parched throat. A nurse came in at that moment, and with a brief greeting started to take her vitals. Eden then continued, “Was it the same intensity as yesterday’s?”
Lilliana hesitated before finally deciding to confess, “Yes, this was the second time I wasn’t able to control it.”
“And when was the first?” the doctor opened up her file and started to skim her past history.
“Uhhh...July, three years ago,” her chest tightened at the memory.
Eden’s eyes went to the date in question and looked over the listed symptoms and treatments, “You seemed to have reacted much the same as last time, and you were also treated for a heart attack, just like we did here,” she chewed her lip, deep in thought. “History of heart disease in your family?”
She shook her head in response.
“How often, on average, do these attacks occur per month? No matter the intensity.”
“Two or three times in a good month…”
“And on a bad month?”
“Eight or nine.”
Eden’s mouth fell open in shock, before quickly composing her face and jotting some notes down. “Take any prescribed, over-the-counter, or illegal drugs?”
“Haven’t had a mental illness diagnosis recently?” she still didn’t look up, flipping through the pages of the file.
“Anxiety when I was sixteen, so I took chlordiazepoxide for four years.”
At the sound of the scientific name of the drug, Eden’s head snapped to meet hers, in an expression of relief, “It’s so nice to speak to a patient with some medical background.”
“At least yours can talk,” Lilliana smiled tiredly. “Try asking what drugs a back-alley cat has taken.”
She laughed, sitting down on her bed, “I guess there’s always someone better off and worse off than you.” Eden cleared her throat, “Can you tell me what triggered this attack? Do you remember?”
Now that was a tricky question. Could she even say that she had insulted the gentlest man she knew to his face? That she had caught the way his lips had trembled, and how she couldn’t stop the spew of harsh words that came out of her mouth, hitting him like rocks and bruising his skin?
And that she had the audacity to demand that she keep Alpine as a patient? She was pretty sure that Eden would not hesitate to kick her out of the hospital that instant.
“I was…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words. “Scared about another one happening again.”
Eden nodded, seemingly expecting such a response. “Family doctor is… Martin…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a notepad. “No history of alcoholism or substance abuse?”
She scribbled something down, and looked at Lilliana, “I’m going to order a blood test and an ECG, just to rule out any thyroid or heart conditions. If it’s alright with you, I want my resident to do your physical exam.”
“And a psych eval as well,” she wrote it down on the pad. “I’m pretty sure this is a case of a panic disorder, I’ll email Indila and let her know what tests we’ve decided to run, as well as fax over the results. Usually, we have the family doctor continue treatment, and she will be the one to determine if you need psychological help.” Concerned at her frightened expression, Eden reached forward and grabbed Lilliana’s hand in her own. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, dear. We just need to rule out any other possible conditions before diagnosis.”
“I’m not going to die?” She wanted to make it seem like a lighthearted joke, but remembering the choking sensation in her chest when Bucky had put her hands beside her neck still made her shiver.
“No, sweetheart, you won’t,” Eden smiled sweetly and got up from the bed. “But if Sergeant Barnes hadn’t called emergency, there would have been a good chance of it.”
“Oh,” her heart fell at the thought. After everything that had happened between them, he still had the selflessness to make sure she was alright.
“I’m going to go order those tests now, we’ll be able to discharge you by the end of the day today,” walking over to the door, she pulled it open and turned back around to Lilliana, smiling. “Have a good day, dear, if you need anything, just press the button and one of us will be there to help.”
The door clicked shut, and with it, almost instantaneously, Lilliana’s eyes started to fall shut again, the eventful day before catching up to her. The last thing she noted was the door being opened again and a gentle figure coming in, she assumed it was a nurse.
Tags for this series and all of my works are open, if you wanted to be added, please send me an ask or message. You can read the rest of my writing here. Thanks again for reading, next chapter should be out soon!
Taglist: @pearlruth @chipster-21 @ginger-swag-rapunzel
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After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2
I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!
Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!
Word Count: 2,492
“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”
“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”
Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”
Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.
“Steve, did you find it?”
“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”
“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”
Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.
Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.
Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”
Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.
“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.
“What do you mean before the war Buck.”
He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”
He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.
“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”
Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”
He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”
Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.
It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?
It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.
She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.
Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.
By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.
Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.
Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.
As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.
Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.
The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?
Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.
Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.
“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”
He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”
The doctor smiled. “Good good.”
Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.
But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.
Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.
They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.
And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.
Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.
Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.
A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.
“Are you a vet?”
He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”
Y/N gave a weak smile.
Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”
She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.
After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”
Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”
Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”
She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?
“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.
“I fought in World War II.”
Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”
“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”
She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.
Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.
The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.
“You… You actually believe me?”
“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”
She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.
“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”
“How much do you know about this time and place?”
She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.
“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.
“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”
All she could do was nod, her head held low.
“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.
“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”
It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.
“Would it be ok if I went home?”
“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”
More nodding. Y/N rushed home.
The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.
“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”
“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”
Steve froze. “What was her name?”
“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”
“Are you sure about what you told me?”
“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”
“What did she look like?”
“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”
“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”
Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”
A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.
“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”
Then the door opened. “Where?”
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Can I request roommate Bucky x reader and 16. from Fluff and 1. from General (and maybe 1. from Angst)
I’m sorry I didn’t write it all, all I remember are numbers
Thank you so much and I love you! 💛
Summary: Agreeing to going bar hopping with Sam and Bucky ends in a confession.
Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, bar setting.
AU: Roommate!Bucky x Reader
AN: ILY2! Ask from this list, requests are always open so feel free to send one or more in!
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
Gif not mine
Pushing your way through the sweaty crowd, you tried to find the two men you had came with; regretting that you even agreed to come when Sam invited you to go bar hopping with him and Bucky.
A hand touched your arm and you turned, hoping to see Bucky standing behind you. "How's your night, lovely?" A stranger smiled, leaning closer to talk to you.
Bucky could see you from his spot with Sam away from the crowd, narrowing his eyes at the man talking to you. "I'm sure she's fine, Bucky. Just leave it alone." Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"She looks uncomfortable, I'm just gonna check on her." Bucky shrugged as he stood up. "What if she's just trying to get laid and you go over there and ruin it?" Sam chuckled at his friend. "Well, that's kinda the plan."
Bucky maneuvered his way to you, glaring at the man who was a bit smaller than him. "There you are, dollface." He said, wedging his broad body between the two of you, his lips knocking to your forehead as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
You watched as the man walked away, Bucky leaning to talk in your ear. "Needa' talk to you." He muttered, loud enough for you to hear before pulling you with him. "James-"
You were cut off by his lips engulfing yours, hands on the sides of your head. All you could do was stand there, shocked as he pulled away. "No, no. We are not doing this right now." You pointed, backing away from him.
"Sugar, c'mon..." He sighed, a sad look washing over his face. "No, you're drunk and I'm going home. Sam will make sure you get home safe."
Now was not the time to be confessing feelings, no matter how wonderful even the dim lights of the bar made him.
Bucky called your name as he watched you walk to the door, Sam following behind him when he decided to go after you. "Bucky, just leave it." Sam said grabbing his upper arm.
Pulling his arm out of Sam's grip, Bucky continued down the sidewalk behind you. "Talk to me about it, please." He pleaded. "Not right now, James. I knew I should've stayed home." You said shaking your head.
Bucky's hands grabbed your waist and spun you around. "We've been dancing around this for how many months? I'm sick of it."
"I'm leaving." Bucky scoffed and shook his head at you. "Of course you are, that's all you know how to do. Tuck tail and run every time I try to talk about this with you."
"I don't know what this is, but I'll see you at home." You said breathing a laugh, turning back around to walk the two blocks home.
"Fuck." Bucky cursed to himself, dragging a hand through his hair as he headed back towards where Sam was at the entrance of the bar. "Fucking scared her away." He scoffed, throwing his hands up.
2 hours passed without a sign of Bucky, the silence in the shared apartment was making your stomach churn. Although Sam had texted you and said Bucky was fine, you couldn't help but still worry.
Running a hand over your face, you leaned back against the couch; the memory of how Bucky's lips felt against yours replaying in your head over and over. You wanted it again, wanted more than just living in the same apartment, but tonight wasn't the night to admit that; not when there was alcohol involved.
You heard the sound of jiggling keys on the other side of the door before the knob just twisted open. "Thought I told you to lock this door when I wasn't here." Bucky said, words slurring slightly as he gently pressed the door shut.
You just watched as he toed his boots off and shuffled over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you. "What are you doing, Buck?" You sighed as he pressed your knees apart and moved between them.
He leaned forward, his head laying on your chest; hair tickling your chin as his body relaxed against you. "Can you please just hold me..." He mumbled, snaking his arms around your waist.
Inhaling a breath, you rubbed your hands up his biceps, goosebumps raising on the skin of his right arm. "Always." You breathed, letting your fingers tangle in the back of his short hair.
The silence was filled with sounds of quiet whirring of Bucky's arm and his soft breaths, easing the sick feeling that had settled in your stomach before. "I'm sorry for doing that..." He muttered, slipping his hands under the back of your shirt; a habit of his that became comforting for you, cold metal and warm skin pressing gentle circles into your skin.
Another few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. "Will you rub my back? Please?" He lifted his head to look at you, slate blue eyes dancing back and forth. "You need to eat something. You smell like a brewery."
He shook his head and laid his head back on your chest. "I'm fine. Very comfortable."
You sighed and slipped your arms under his, bunching the fabric of his shirt up so you could rub his back; feeling the tension of the muscles soften under your touch as he hummed in contentment.
"I love you." Bucky mumbled, partially hoping you didn't hear him, or instantly shove him away.
Instead, you pressed a kiss to the top of his head before leaning your chin against it. "Tell me that when you're sober."
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Is there a version of Bucky or Steve you'd like to write, but haven't? Love your fics!
Thank you! And you know what, lovely anon? I would love to write an AU where Steve falls from the train and becomes the Winter Soldier or Captain Hydra and Bucky takes over as Captain America/Nomad.
Friend sent the image above and credit goes to DeviantArt user MizuriAU.
I would have a lot of fun with that. ❤️ One day! Thanks for the ask, love and happy reading. ❤️
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After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 1
I have been brewing on this idea for a couple days now, and I finally got the gumption to write it out. I am super excited to share this with the fandom. This is one of my favorite fandoms and my current hyperfixation. I hope you enjoy this fic. I have no idea how long it's going to be, but it will be a series. I do not plan on following cannon after Endgame, it doesn't fit with the fic, but I'm working on one that is cannon.
Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death, angst, and fluff if you squint. If you see any others please let me know!
Word Count: 1,168
“I promise that I’m really alive.”
“I’m sorry, but without more proof we cannot legally prove that you are who you say you are.”
Y/N huffed and slouched in her chair. The lady who was supposed to be helping her shuffled her papers and cleared her throat. “It doesn’t seem very probable either. If you are who you claim you are then you’d be 105 and considering that you don’t look older than 25, I highly doubt that you are the Ms. Y/N L/N.”
“But I am!” Y/N yelped causing the woman in front of her to jump. “I’m sorry Ms.” She peered at the nametag on the woman’s suit jacket. “Clement. I have had a very long day of goose chasing and learning that I need to prove that I am still alive to get my own things. It makes sense, but I feel that it really doesn’t need to be this difficult. Besides, there are two people in the state of New York that are around that exact age.”
Ms. Clement looked around her office, probably wondering why she even bothered to get out of bed today. She then put the papers she had been shuffling into a vanilla folder and tucked it into a pile on her desk. “Those men are Superheroes. They have probable explanations as to why they are that old.”
“And so do I.” Y/N huffed.
Ms. Clement gave a fake smile, “Until you can provide legal documentation that you are who you say you are I’m afraid that I cannot move forward with a Certificate of Life. Please return when you have your documentation. Have a nice day!”
Y/N huffed as she walked down the street of New York City. She hadn’t known what to expect when she had arrived from Wakanda, but a legal goose chase wasn’t it. The Social Security Office had told her that she had needed at least three Legal documents that proved that she was who she claimed she was.
All she wanted to do was sit down in a corner and cry, but she had to get a place to stay for the night. She knew from experience how cold the streets got at night.
Y/N hardly recognized New York with all of its lights and noises. She wished for the New York she remembered from the 40’s.
She still knew where to go after all these years apparently because she stopped in front of a building that she knew by heart. The best years of her life were in apartment 9C on the top floor and a great view of the city. The best years until she was drafted into World War II as an army nurse. She shivered as a breeze rushed by her, then an idea struck her.
The elevator was just about as old as she was which made her a little nervous. A quiet ding announced that she had arrived at the top floor. Everything looked exactly the same as it had when she left and she hoped with everything in her being that the apartment didn’t have new tenants.
‘It shouldn’t’ she thought. An upfront payment had been made to have that apartment belong to her and her-
Her heart stung but she shrugged it off. She could live in the past later.
She didn’t have a key to the apartment, it was inside, in the bowl by the front door. You didn’t need house keys in Europe. She pulled out a hair pin and pen she had taken from the last office she had visited. Unlocking the door was easy, it was from the 30’s after all. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she opened the door and stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Y/N wasn’t prepared for what she saw. The landlord was true to their word, the apartment was still hers. There were still sheets draped over the furniture, dust clung to every uncovered surface, and a musty smell filled the air.
Nostalgia filled her heart, but she had things to do before she let herself feel anything. She walked into the kitchen and opened the farthest cabinet and pulled out a tiny cup that had a tiny key in it. Grabbing the key she went into the guest bedroom and pulled down the lockbox from the shelf in the closet.
Inside was her passport, birth certificate, and her backup draft card. Along with other papers. A sigh of relief escaped from her. She pulled out what she needed and put the box back to where it belonged. Walking back into the main room, she took off her jacket and put it on the coat tree. Her papers in the pocket of her coat. As long as she didn’t make too much noise, she could stay here for the night.
She turned around and was dragged into memory.
She was puttering around the kitchen getting things out to start making dinner. The front door opened, and the love of her life stepped through. With a sigh of relief, he took off his suit jacket and hung it on the tree.
He finally turned to look at her and he smiled, and she returned it. “Welcome home Love. How was your day?”
“It was boring. Paperwork and meetings. The only thing I looked forward to was coming home to see my best girl.”
Y/N blushed, and her lover walked over to the living room, got his pipe from the mantle and sat down in his worn leather chair.
About 30 minutes later Y/N called across the room. “Dinner’s ready”
He got up from his chair and they both sat down to eat and after both were done and everything was cleaned up, he retuned to his chair. This time though, she was curled up in his lap.
“We should do something fun this weekend Doll. Like a trip to the zoo or something.”
“I would love that.”
He leaned down a little to whisper in her ear, “I love you Y/N”
“I love you too James” she whispered back.
When Y/N came to again, it was almost dark out. She wiped the tears from her eyes and walked over to a chair covered in a sheet. With a simple motion she pulled the sheet from the chair and revealed a worn leather wingback chair. She didn’t bother to undrape the rest of the furniture; in fact she was very careful to make everything look undisturbed.
As much as she wanted to go to her old bedroom, she couldn’t. Even coming back to this place had emotionally drained her.
What she did do instead, was look at the pictures hanging on the wall and through the dirt and grime covering the glass, she could make out two people standing as close together as they could get. She was dressed to the nines and so was he. At the bottom of the picture written in loopy cursive was
James “Bucky” Barnes and his fiancé Y/N L/N
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dumb ficbunny: Bucky bigging himself up with Extremely Mild self-hype like 'hey, I could totally be a model if I wanted - y'know, like a catalogue model, part-time. Easily' not realising how far he's missing the mark, and it makes Steve go absolutely Feral
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hi i posted a new au video! kind of wraps up the backstory of my oc, Tessa! hope you guys will enjoy! :)
I wonder if masks have made it easier for Bucky to tease/edge the reader in public. She doesn’t have to worry as much about keeping her face looking calm while he’s got a vibe on her or is stroking her clit or etc
Pairing: TFAWS Bucky x Reader
Drabble. Dont copy these, repost or rewrite them. Minors DNI. Public Sex, Bucky being a tease. two surprise guests. Toys, dom/sub vibes
Bucky loves online shopping because you can buy anything with a few clicks now. Including the remote-controlled vibe, he placed inside your pussy before the both of you left the house. You're wearing a custom-made version of his WS mask so only your eyes are visible.
You are on edge waiting for him to turn it. But only gives you sweet smiles and soft glances, holding your hand as you walk to the park.
Bucky sits down on a little bench tucked away in a secluded corner, surrounded by tall trees and bushes. He places your legs over his thighs and you see him take the remote out.
Bucky loves to tease so he tosses it hand to hand while your breath quickens in pure anticipation. Your eyes following the small device going between his vibranium hand to his gloved one.
You can't take another second of this, not with the base of the toy stretching your sopping walls, the curved edged sitting right on your clit.
You turn your head, your lips parting in a plea. "Buck-oh oh my god." you gasp, your head dropping back as he turns the vibe on. Small pulses of sensations rock through your pussy. You moan-loud-when he turns it up a notch.
Bucky smirks, running his tongue over his teeth. "Hey doll, you might wanna keep it down before Sam and Steve hear you."
"Huh?" you mumble, trying to focus as the vibe pulsates.
Bucky raises his hand. "Over here."
Craning your head, your eyes widen, almost bulging out when you see Sam and Steve jogging to you. "You son of -ah oh fuck," you hiss, scrambling off his lap and onto the bench beside him. You cross your ankles, hoping to hide the tremor in your legs as another wave of pleasure sparks in you.
Buck continues to smirk, placing his arm around your shoulder. You glare at him as he greets the guys. You nod, pretending to cough when they say hello to you. Chewing your lip, you're doing everything you can to not moan as the coil winds tighter and tighter in your belly.
You can't speak because you know, you just know, by the devilish gleam in Bucky's blue eyes that he's waiting for you to open your mouth.
Bucky places his hand on your leg, his body turned to his friends as they talk. He wedges the remote between your thighs, you can't believe the audacity of him. Another hot pulse of sensations surge through you and you clamp down on the whimper clawing up your throat.
You vaguely hear the guys laughing and talking, your brain focused on that little tiny device. You shift your thighs, a wave slick dripping down to the bench below you as the coil gets a little tighter.
Taking a deep breath, you grab the edge of the remote. Without missing a beat or even turning his head in your direction, Bucky snatches it from you and spins the dial.
Pure electricity shoots up your spine and your body locks up, your hand digging into Bucky's leather jacket, the other wrapped around the warm wooden bench. A grunt spilling out from your lips as the vibe pulses, thrusts, pulses, and- oh god fuck fuck. The coil snapping loose as you cum so hard you nearly scream.
"You okay?" Steve asks with concern.
You swing your glazed eyes over and nod. Bucky scrunches his nose at you. "Yeah, she's going to be just fine."
He leans to the side, his soft lips brushing over your ear. "You were really good, plum but you know what happens to naughty girls who touch things that don't belong to them."
The bench creaks and groans as they all stand up and surround you.
Bucky tilts his head, slipping your mask off. "Tell the guys what happens when you misbehave."
You shiver as Steve pulls your head back and Sam kneels before you, spreading your legs.
"I-I get punished." You quickly hide your smile when Bucky tsks.
Steve pulls down your bottom lip. "You're going to feel your punishment for days, little plum."
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Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Bodyguard Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers-centric, Protective Steve Rogers, Student Tony, College student Tony, Mercenaries, Established Relationship
Imagine Steve as college!Tony's overprotective bodyguard and Bucky as the villain/thief/or just another student that wants to date Tony but has to get around Steve to do it.
Steve cleared his throat, and Howard looked up from his numbers. Before Howard could go back to pretending that he was listening with a half-ear, Steve flipped the papers around and pointed to the second section. “I’m fine with everything I’ve signed off on so far, but I’m confused about this boyfriend section. You want me to prevent Tony from having a boyfriend?”
Howard huffed and waved at one of his lawyers.
The woman indicated sat up straighter as she explained for Howard, “You are not to prevent Anthony Stark from having a boyfriend, you are to hinder the romance between Anthony and his current boyfriend.”
“Why?” Steve asked.
Howard snorted. “You amuse me, kid. All right, I’ll play ball. Tony’s boyfriend likes to put rebellious ideas in Tony’s head. Since he is not so easily bought or intimidated, I need someone to act as a chaperone and stop any further growth of the relationship.” Howard leveled Steve with a scrutinizing look. “So can you do the job?”
Steve picked up his pen and signed.
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salvatore. | vii.
summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.
warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.
word count. | 3.4k
pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.
a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.
“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.
Truth be told, you didn’t remember.
“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.
“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.
You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.
Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.
You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.
“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.
You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.
Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.
Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.
He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.
Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.
You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.
Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.
You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.
There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.
You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.
You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.
Neither could Natasha.
You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.
You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.
You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.
You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.
You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.
You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.
You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.
The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.
He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.
You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.
Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.
You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.
Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.
In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.
You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.
But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.
Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.
You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.
You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.
You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.
You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.
A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.
You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.
But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.
You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.
You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.
“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.
His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand own to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers
Summary: Bucky dishes out some punishment and Steve is in his corner.
Word Count: Over 1.9k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, edging, oral sex (f receiving), possessive behavior, slight D/s theme, tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?)
A/N: Another part of my Howling Commandos Tattoo AU! I will not say when this falls in the timeline for now and I am not taking requests, but I couldn’t resist this ask! Beta read by the wonderful @sparkledfirecracker, but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. And divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics! Comments, asks, likes and reblogs are appreciated!
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing schedule and updates there.
I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old. Enjoy, lovelies!
You were going to kill Bucky. At the very least, torture him. You had no clue how because you couldn't think with his mouth playing you like a song on repeat. He told you once that he could eat you out for hours and he was making good on that promise. Both of your boyfriends were champion pussy eaters and you thanked the heavens above for your blessings. Until today.
You lost track of how long he had been between your legs, stopping occasionally to give you water and wipe the sweat off your forehead. He also checked your binds, making sure they didn't hurt your wrists. It was a sweet contrast to the delicious torment he inflicted on you. And you would have been more than fine with that if he let. You. Come.
"Fuck, doll. Told you I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner," he said, his voice low and husky as his breath hit your folds. You wanted to twist your fingers in his hair, unsure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. "But my cock is greedy for your hole, too."
"Then fuck me!" you whined.
"Not yet. I'm still hungry."
He gently circled your oversensitive clit with the tip of his tongue, groaning as he licked along your glistening lips moments later. He pushed two fingers deep inside you, plunging and curling to the point where your toes began to curl. You felt like you were trying to balance on a tightrope, but each time you got to the end you had to start over.
"Please. Fuck, please!" you begged when he slipped his fingers out, feeling how wet they were as he placed them on your trembling thigh.
"Still so wet for me, doll. You really do have the most amazing pussy."
"If it's so amazing, why won't you let me come?!" you snapped, blinking the tears from your eyes.
"You know why," he chastised, chuckling when you did your best to glare at him. "You may growl like a tiger, but you bite like a kitten. What's your word?"
The smallest smile touched your lips when concern slipped into his voice. He was good about checking in. "Green."
"Good girl," he whispered as he dipped his head back down.
He held your thighs apart so tenderly and possessively as his tongue lapped and swirled in soft caresses. Your entire frame shook as desire rolled off of you in waves, a hot, writhing mess as he continued to play with your cunt. The colors of his tattoos seemed even brighter as you looked down at him, crying out when he suddenly stopped again. His face almost had a glow to it as he smirked up at you.
"You want it so bad when all you had to do was be good," he scolded, sucking on your hard nub as your mouth fell open. He managed to do it slowly enough that the coil inside you wound tighter. How did it not snap?!
"I am good!" you argued.
"How long have you been at it?"
Your head turned toward the open door, amusement in Steve's eyes as he lazily leaned against the frame. You were going to torture him, too, for standing there and not helping. Once you got your bearings and came up with a plan.
"Hours," came the muffled reply of the brunette.
"Have you let her come?"
"No. Not once," Bucky replied, sounding pained.
"What did you do, sweetheart?"
You looked over at the blonde innocently. Too innocently. "Nothing!" you yelped when Bucky squeezed your thigh.
"Uh uh. What did we say about communication?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Fuck! Fine! I skipped lunch...and… breakfast?"
The blonde no longer looked amused as he slowly walked over to the bed, ignoring the slurps of Bucky lavishing on your twitching hole. "What do you mean you skipped lunch and breakfast?"
You shrank back at his thunderous gaze. You already received that same look from the brunette after he found out you skipped a meal. Your boyfriends hated the thought of you not taking care of yourself or not being cared for. And you felt guilty. "Work was...Oh, fuck! Busy!"
The bed dipped as Steve sat down, pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. "Work will always be there. You put yourself first," he whispered as you closed your eyes. You were still working on that. "Did he feed you?"
You hiccupped a bit, the pleasure you were so close to reaching just out of your grasp. "Yes."
"Mmm. She ate every bite before I tied her up," Bucky promised, giving you no reprieve as he held you down.
"Good girl," Steve whispered, moving his mouth to yours. As his tongue slipped past your parted lips, he somehow moved it in sync with Bucky's and you felt yourself tighten as you let your men devour you.
But just as you reached the edge, everything stopped. It. Fucking. Stopped. You wrenched your face away from Steve's with a frustrated moan. “You. Fucking. Bastard."
Tears must have slipped out because you felt fingertips brush them away from your cheeks, even as both of them smiled at you. "Color?" Steve asked.
"Green! It is so fucking green!" you swore, your chest heaving. How much longer would they make you suffer?
"It really is cute when you swear. C'mon, Buck. Give her your cock. I think she more than earned it."
Bucky made a gruff sound as he stood up, fisting himself as he took in the sight of you. You knew it had to be agony for him, too, to not be inside you the moment he had you bound. "You look ruined, doll."
"Ruin her some more."
You nearly sobbed in relief when his cock pressed against your entrance. You couldn't even push your hips forward to take him in, but he didn't make you wait as he slid inside you. The only sound you could let out was a whimper as he stole your breath.
His thickness stretched you to the limit as he hammered into you, his eyes not leaving yours. Your walls selfishly tried to keep him there when Steve leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. You could only take so much as Bucky continued to bury himself in you over and over.
"There you go,” Steve said softly, brushing his thumb over the other nipple. Even those felt more sensitive to the touch. “Bet you won't skip a meal again. You know that makes us worry.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, even though Bucky should have also apologized for edging the shit out of you. Edging drove you crazy when you didn't plan it in advance… which is exactly why he did it. What good was a punishment if you enjoyed it from start to finish?
“I’ll bet you are,” Steve breathed out, feeling him smirk as he went back to gently sucking on the hard peak.
You didn’t bother coming up with a retort, instead making sounds of unrestrained pleasure. It didn’t matter how obscene you sounded as long as Bucky kept snapping his hips. It felt like he was trying to fuck you within an inch of your life. He owed you that.
“I know, doll. I know,” Bucky said, a touch of sympathy mixed with his lust. “But it’s going to feel good when you come all over my cock.”
Steve turned his head away for a split second to give your aching nipple a break, his beard scraping along your skin. “Fuck, she really did leave some shine all over your face.”
“And the sheet,” Bucky said smugly.
“Fucking. Tattooed. Bastards,” you gasped, more than ready to break.
“You love us,” Bucky said, his eyes intense as you moaned in response. “Just like you love feeling us wreck your tight, pretty pussy.”
“Yes!” you cried, hearing both men moan as you began to shake all over again. “Just let me come, please!”
Steve reached down, circling his finger along your clit. He barely touched it and you still felt like you were on fire. “Think she’s really sorry?”
You struggled to keep it together, gritting your teeth as you felt that rising bliss. “I am sorry… that I worried you. Please.”
For a second, you thought Bucky would pull back and stop again… until he slammed into you so hard you screamed. It’s like he was determined to fuck into your mind that you were their girl and that meant being cared for… by them and yourself. Feeling him pound into your desperate pussy, your walls began to spasm. Spirals of ecstasy began to spread as tears fell.
“Bucky. Steve, please,” you begged as Steve’s finger circled your clit again.
Bucky took pity on you as his gaze went soft. “Come.”
The command was undeniable, tightening around the cock inside you as you finally climaxed. You thought you sobbed out “thank you” as you got lost in the haze, but you couldn’t be sure. Clamping down as his thrusts increased, you still felt every drag along your slick walls. You rode out the feeling of complete satisfaction and you took everything. Because you were their best girl and you were made to.
“Jesus, fuck, that’s gorgeous,” Steve groaned.
Bucky thrusts a few more times before letting out one of the deepest, sexiest growls you ever had the pleasure of hearing. Considering there were days you couldn’t keep either one of them from having you, that said something. Feeling him flood your insides as he shoved himself deep was a feeling you would never get over. It felt like heaven from both of them.
Steve already had your wrists untied as you attempted to catch your breath, kissing each of them gently before letting Bucky stretch over you. His breathing was heavy for a minute, feeling his heart thud almost as fast as yours. His lips met yours in a soft kiss after a few more minutes, humming when he felt you kiss him back. “Still with us, doll?”
You nodded, grounded by having them there as your high faded into oblivion. “Still with you.”
“Do you get why Bucky punished you the way he did?” Steve asked curiously.
You nodded again. “Because I know to take care of myself and I didn’t. And… the punishment was chosen to teach me a lesson," you said quietly, swallowing. Steve had a bottle of water at your mouth in seconds, waiting until you took a few sips before you continued. You were proud you could form words. “But I don’t skip meals often, which is why I was only edged for a few hours.”
Bucky smiled, kissing you again. “I love how smart you are. We just want you to take care of yourself. You gonna do that?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your eyes shut. You really didn’t mean to worry them. It was still tough to remember some days that you had people looking out for you. But you had a family.
“We’ll get you cleaned up and I’ll order a pizza,” Steve offered.
“We ate,” you grumbled, but you smiled.
“I’m still hungry,” Bucky smirked, making all three of you laugh.
Fucking tattooed bastards.
Hours later, Steve smiled as he walked into the bedroom. Seeing you asleep in Bucky’s arms, holding you like he couldn’t let go, was a sight to behold. He would have to draw it later from memory.
"What, punk?" Bucky asked as his friend shook his head.
"Nothing. Just… love looks good on you."
"Looks good on you, too, Steve. Looks good on you, too."
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Requested by @sandy-benzie (idk why the tagging doesn’t work): redrawing this pose but I make it into an AU(?)
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Part Eight: We steal motorbikes from a cyborg mechanic
Art by @jaybrogers
Yelena made us take the bus to a garage.
“Ugh. I hate the bus; it’s always so dirty!” She complained as she sat down on a window seat. Natasha sat next to her, and Rou and I sat opposite.
The bus was large, and it ran on steam. It was as fast as a steam train, and the driver was a clockwork man who winked at Yelena as we had got on the bus.
“Where are we going?” Rou asked.
“The garage. I’ve got something to collect,” Yelena said, getting out some nail varnish. She took off her white gloves and expertly painted her finger nails red.
“Can you paint mine?” Natasha asked.
“Sure. What colour?”
“Red and black.”
Soon, Natasha’s left thumb, middle finger and pinkie finger were painted red, and her ring finger and first finger were painted black.
Her right thumb, middle finger and pinkie finger were painted black, and her first finger and ring finger were painted red.
Once their nails were dry, both women put their gloves back on.
I wondered why Natasha had painted her nails red and black.
I was about to ask, but then the bus pulled up at a garage.
“Here we are,” Yelena said.
The garage was a rundown place, and there was a guy with dirty blue overalls working on a car.
I gasped when he looked up; he had long greasy hair that was shaved on one side, and a metal arm and a metal plate covering his side. He had his overall shirt around his waist, and stubble on his chin. He was muscular. But that wasn’t the creepiest thing about him; he had circuits underneath his skin.
He also had two long scars going down his neck.
“Hello,” he said quietly. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Yes,” Rou said, confidently stepping forward. “We’re here to pick up some…motorbikes.”
“Right. When did you bring them in?”
“Yesterday. There were two of them,” Yelena said. She spotted two motorbikes leaning against the wall, and walked over to them.
“Here they are!”
“One of them is-“
“Mine,” Yelena interrupted the mechanic. She kickstarted the motorbike. Natasha got on, and Yelena held on to her and they rode off.
Judging on the look on the mechanic’s face - I swear his eyes turned black and the circuits turned red - I figured we had a twenty second window before he snapped. I grabbed the other motorbike, turned it on, and Rou clung onto me as I followed Yelena and Natasha.
I looked behind and swore loudly.
The cyborg mechanic was following us.
Great; we had another enemy on our tail.
pairing: college!modern!bucky x female reader
summary: You’ve been in love with Bucky for a long time. You have suffered in silence as you have watched him fall for girls over and over again. Graduation day has arrived and you finally decide to tell him how you feel.
word count: 1.6k
author’s note: Please like and reblog, send me a message if you find any mistakes! I’m thinking about writing a pt. 2 but i don’t know yet
warnings: a little bit of angst, crying
You met Bucky in your freshman year, he was friends with your roommates, Natasha and Wanda. Ever since you started hanging out you couldn’t stop and with time, you started catching feelings for him, however, you knew he didn’t feel the same way, Bucky brought girls over almost every night and this proved your point. It came to a point where you couldn’t handle your feelings anymore so you decided to do what you do best, write. Every six months during those four years you wrote a letter, telling how you feel and how you wanted to forget him but couldn’t, but those letters were never given to him, you kept them under your bed, safe from everyone. Your crush on Bucky wasn’t that imperceptible, everyone but him seemed to notice that you were head over heels for that boy.
Despite your feelings, you never stopped hanging out with Bucky and there you were, in a bar after your graduation ceremony, you were sat by his side, but he wasn’t alone. You couldn’t remember the girl’s name, he probably didn’t too considering they just met, you just knew you were jealous of her, she’s sat on his lap and messing with his hair, living everything you’ve been wanting for years.
You gave your best friends, Natasha and Wanda a helpless look “I’m going to the bathroom” hoping they got the message, you stood up and left the table.
Arriving at the bathroom you looked in the mirror with tear-filled eyes, Nat and Wanda entered “What happened?” Natasha asked worriedly. “I can’t take it anymore” you whimpered “I can’t keep doing this, pretending that what he does isn’t affecting me”. Everything you said was true, you were tired of feeling that way. “What do you mean?” Wanda asked hugging you “It’s been years Wan, if he felt the same I would know already, I have to let these feeling go” Natasha immediately joined your hug “You need to do what makes you happy, we don’t want to see you hurt” you sobbed into your bestfriends’ arm “Let’s go home” she finished while cleaning up your tears.
The three of you left the bathroom and went in your friends’ direction, Bucky and the girl were still there but they seemed cozier, you felt tears brimming in your eyes again “Hey guys, we’re going home” Wanda started and you hoped she wouldn’t say the real reason why you’re leaving “I’m not feeling well and the girls offered to leave and help me” she said looking at you and Nat. No one asked anything, you said your goodbyes and started gathering your things. “Hey” someone grabbed your wrist before you could leave, Bucky. “Is everything okay, doll?” you hated that nickname, it was how he called his one night stands and when he called you that you felt like one of them, you didn’t want to be an one night thing, you wanted to hold his hands, go on dates, you wanted a relationship, but he didn’t even see you that way. “Everything is fine, Buck” you snapped at him “I just need to go help Wanda, today was an exhausting day” giving him one last look, you turned around and left with your friends.
The car ride was quiet, when you finally arrived at your shared apartament Natasha asked “What do you want to do?” you just wanted to curl into a ball and cry. “I think I’m going to sleep, I’m really tired” you said while going to your bedroom “Are you sure?” Wanda asked reassuringly, you nodded and went into your room.
Three hours later and you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky, you felt like you needed closure, but didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, you remembered the letters, maybe if you gave it to him you would feel relieved and finally could move on. After getting the box with the letters from under your bed, you picked up the letter you wrote that morning, the last you were ever going to write to him and put it into the box. You grabbed a post-it note, wrote his name and put it above the box, if anyone besides him saw it you would feel so embarrassed so you needed people to know that it was for him.
After checking your phone and seeing that the clock marked 4 am, you left the apartment quietly to not wake up Nat and Wanda. Bucky and Steve also shared an apartment, two floors above yours. The moment you faced his door you knew you couldn’t just ring the doorbell and give it to him, it was the middle of the night and what if he brought that girl from the bar home? You almost left his door and gave up on giving him the letters, but you needed that, you owned it to yourself. You put the box on his doormat and left, tears falling from your eyes. Little did you know what happened while you were in your room.
As soon as you left the night before, he knew something happened so he just dropped everything and went home to see you. Arriving in the building, he saw Natasha on the elevator. “Hey, Nat” he rushed to get to her “Is she ok? Where is she?” He was worried about you. “Listen, James” Natasha started. “It’s better if you don’t go after her right now, plus, I’m sure she’s asleep, you should try tomorrow” she concluded and left. He just wanted to know what happened and who hurt you so he knew who would be the next person he was punching but he respected Nat's wishes and went to his house.
Bucky woke up the next day due to the sunlight on his face, he forgot to close the curtains when he arrived from the bar. After having breakfast he decided to go see you, when he was leaving he tripped over something, it was a box with his name on it. He recognized that handwriting, it was yours.
He picked it up, sat on the couch, and opened it. It was a bunch of letters with dates, he saw one with the date December 14, 2017, written on it, four years ago? Why would you give him something like that? Since that was the letter with the earliest date, it was the one he opened first.
December 14, 2017
Dear Bucky, it’s been five months since we met and became friends. During this period of time we grew closer and feelings started to develop on my part. You’ll probably never see this because I’ll keep it to myself, but I love you, with all parts of my body.
I never expected to meet someone like you, someone who makes me feel so alive. I wish I knew the way you feel about me. I care so much about you, but I constantly question my feelings. You’re always with someone new, there’s always a girl in your arms and I know that’ll never change, so I’m just swallowing my feelings. I don’t know how and when i’ll be able to let these go away, so if you’re receiving these letters there are two scenarios.
Either I finally told you how I feel and we’re finally together or my feelings got to the point in which they hurt me, so I decided to let you go. I love everything about you, with each new day, each new word from your mouth, I fall further and further in love with you. There's no turning back for me. It doesn’t matter where we stand now, you’ll always have me for anything that you need.
I am yours and yours alone. Now and always.
Bucky closed the letter, why wouldn’t you tell him tha? He felt so little and so disgusted by himself for hurting you, he didn’t even know if he could read the other letters. “How could I do that to her?” was the last thing he said before the tears came.
And you? You were almost in the same position, laid in bed crying. What could Bucky do to make things right?
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Bucky Barnes - Circus!AU
Requested by @stucky-my-ship
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college!bucky x reader
summary: exams don't go well bucky's there to comfort you
tw: f bomb, self doubt, college!bucky? , exam talk, mentions of s*x and bj
a/n: so this is my first time writting and this is for @babyboibucky 's 3k writting challenge I really just wanted to participate they are my fav author and I really just enjoy their work so I wanted to give it a try . This is college!bucky from PROJECT V , currently my fav Bucky but Bee still hasn't posted surfer!bucky so we'll see. Also I am sorry I do not know how to put keep reading thing :(
@babyboibuckywrites this is bee's writting blog where you can find all her writting and all 3k entries 🥰
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
You were looking at the screen of your laptop, results of your exams staring at you, mocking you.
Failed. Failed. Passed 95%. Failed.
This is not what you wanted to see. No matter how good one of your exams went those failed exams had a harder impact. You felt like you did enough, apparently that was not the case.
Bucky and you had been studying for exams together, yes maybe you did have some sexy times but still you studied.
Your phone kept going off and you assumed it was Bucky, you were right.
Bucky: *insert picture*
Bucky: aced those fucking exams
Bucky: let's have a celebration fuck
Bucky: *insert picture* we're waiting ;)
Sam: STOP SENDING DICK PICS THIS A GC I DO NOT WANT TO SEE UR DICK
Steve: ISTG BUCKY I WILL BLOCK YOU
Looking at Steve and Sam's messages made you laugh because this isn't the first time Bucky sent a dick pic into the gc on accident thinking it was his and yours chat.
Bucky being impatient dumbass that he is he decided to call you since you weren't replying. You didn't really want to answer but you knew he would assume something was wrong.
"Babyyyy!!!! Why aren't you replying?? I even blessed you with a beautiful picture of my dick." Bucky whined over the phone like a child which made you snort and roll your eyes.
"I'll come over or you come here cus' Steven here would hate that." You heard Steve say something along the lines "I'll kill you or myself If I catch you fucking again!" Bucky probably fliped him off as he always does.
"Sorry It's shark week I'm not feeling well you know how I get." That was bs you finished your period a week ago but that was the only excuse you could think of.
After twenty minutes of convincing Bucky you don't want him to come he ended the call but not before telling you that Steve and him are going for drinks to celebrate and if you feel better to come.
You were suddenly feeling very jealous but at the same time angry that Bucky's results were much better than yours. It wasn't fair or nice yet that's how you felt along with selfpity.
Every time you failed an exam you couldn't help but fall into the hole of self doubt-were you smart enough to finish college- was everything you ever achived just pure luck- and similar things to those were always around. Usually Bucky would reassure you that that that wasn't true but you felt like it would be selfish of you to tell him while he was so happy about doing so well.
Not wanting to sulk in your place you packed up and went to your favorite place to sulk.
"For fucks sake!"
"Hey Sam!!" you greeted a very annoyed Sam, cheerfully.
"What now? Did you have another fight with Bucky because if you did I'd like you to leave." Sam was still pissed about last time after you and Bucky fucked in his room, he banned you both from visiting his place.
"No, just didn't wanna be alone." he was visibly confused by your statement but let you in nontheless. You could tell he had questions, he did choose not to ask more. That's exactly why you came to Sam's he doesn't ask questions just let's you be until you're ready to talk.
You made yourself comfortable, took some of Sam's food and went to his bedroom. When you are in a shitty mood you just close off and eat.
Sam didn't mind he could tell something was wrong, though seeing you cleared his fridge he wasn't very happy.
"Hey, you ate all my food!"
You lifted your head from the pillow and looked at him sadly. It was very obvious you were crying.
"Oh." Sam approached you and sat down on the bed near your legs. That only made more tears fall.
"Sweetheart." you hiccuped and wiped your tears.
He only shook his head, giving you a hug rubbing your back letting you cry. Sam also without you knowing texted Bucky to tell him where you are.
You don't know much you've been crying but what made you jump was a loud bang of door closing.
One moment you were lying in bed and in the next one you were in Bucky's lap? When did he even come how did he know you were. When you tried to move your head from his chest he just pushed it back.
"Shh.. There,there, daddys here no need for tears."
"THAT WAS ONE TIME BUCKY ONE TIME!!!!!" You yelled into his chest and hit him. However it did make you laugh which was probably the point.
"So tell daddy what's wrong." Sam made gagging noises at Bucky's comment, Steve just let out a sigh and pulled Sam out of the room.
Being in Buckys arms was so comforting, he also pushed the hair out of your face looking at you for an explanation. When you didn't Bucky started giving you wet rasberries over your face as well as tickles to your stomach. You couldn't help but giggle and push his head away.
"OKAY OKAY I'LL TALK." He stopped and pulled you back into his lap, leaving soft kisses on your neck
"So I failed three exams out of four so I just felt sad but I didn't want to bother you with that. It wouldn't be fair because you did really well and and " you took a deep breath but before you could say more Bucky stopped you.
"Baby, you know you can always talk to me no matter what. Especally for these things. Plus these exams prove nothing and they don't determine if you'll be successful or not. Besides if anything should make you feel dumb is when we do dumb shit together. Like that time we ripped out nipple peircings as soon as we got them."
That made you chuckle and he did have a point.
"Failing one or two or even five exams doesn't make you dumb you can always pass them some other time anyways. Now that we're done with that time for me to have a treat." Bucky said and pulled your sweatpants down making you gasp. Just as he was about to slip off your panties a very very angry Sam was stomping his way to you.
"NO ABSOLUTLEY NOT I MADE THIS MISTAKE ONCE NOT DOING IT AGAIN!!! BUCKY KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS FOR ONCE !!! GET OUT GET OUT NO SEX HERE NO ANYTHING DIRTY." Sam threw you and Bucky out of the room and locked it.
"What's your problem I was about to have some pussy just because you don't does not mean you have to get jealous!" Your favorite dumbass replied.
That of course set off a small friendly disagreement between the two.
"Okay let's go I'm horny." Bucky threw you over his shoulder like in the movies however it did not go well. He threw you a bit too hard so you slipped over and in the attempt to catch yourself you heard your wrist snap.
"Fuck are you okay?!" Sam, Steve and Bucky asked in unison.
"Uhm yes? Though I think my wrist is broken."
"Let's go. I'm driving you to the ER" Steve said shaking his head taking the keys thinking :What did I do to deserve this punishment"
"Oh no it's your right arm no handjobs for at least 3 weeks. Nevermind we'll train your left arm don't worry." Bucky said kissing your left wrist.
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Part Seven: I use a clothes rack as a weapon
A week later, Natasha, Rou, and I decided to go to the local shopping centre in order to start our search for Yelena.
“Why would she be in a shopping centre?” Rou asked, adjusting his tie. He was wearing the same outfit he wore when I first met him, but he had a black shirt and tie instead of a white shirt and blue tie. He also had bulletproof vest underneath his shirt.
“Because it’s busy. It’s easy to remain hidden,” Natasha replied. She was wearing her black bodysuit that was underneath a black shirt and pencil skirt. She also wore knee-high black combat boots.
“Uh, yeah, about that,” I said, clocking a man and woman around ten meters behind us. They were dressed in plain clothes, but they had definitely been following us for the last minute or so.
“How many?” Natasha hissed.
“Two so far.”
I looked around the shopping centre, and saw a woman smile at me from the balcony.
“Make that three.”
“Piece of cake.”
We went into a clothes shop on the first floor, and Natasha went into a changing room, taking off her skirt and shirt.
Rou looked nervous.
“Are they still following us?”
At that moment, the shutters went down, blocking our exit.
“Sorry, what’s going on?” I asked a nearby shop assistant.
She looked at me up and down, taking in my white shirt, dark blue jacket with their dark red buttons and the gun peaking out of the pouch on my belt. She gave my metal arm a quick glance over, but didn’t say anything about it.
I thought the outfit looked decent enough; the black trousers were tight and high-waisted, and the black combat boots had fancy steel caps on them.
My domino mask showed my eyes, which wasn’t a good idea when on the run, but I didn’t mind.
“Is everything ok?” I asked. “Why are the shutters down?”
She smiled at me, and pulled out a gun.
“You’re not leaving this store,” the shop assistant said.
At that point, Natasha walked out of the changing cubicle.
“Well that’s new,” she said. “I’ve never been held at gun point in a clothes shop before.”
“First time for everything.”
“Back room, now!” The woman snapped.
We quickly obeyed her.
Poor Rou had gone pale.
As we headed towards the back room, it dawned on me that we wouldn’t make it back out. I had to think quickly about what to do.
I saw a clothes rack to my right, and quickly pulled it down in our path.
The shop assistant jumped in surprise, and we took that as our cue to run.
“How are we going to get out?” Rou yelled.
“We smash through the windows!” Natasha replied.
We did just that.
And then we were met by six very angry looking people.
Three of them were the agents I’d seen in the shopping centre. The other three were men who were a lot taller then me.
It was Rou who made the first move.
He thrusted his elbow into one woman, and then punched a man in the nose.
I shoved past the two agents, who went flying over the balcony.
Natasha electrocuted the last two agents.
We then ran for our lives, shoving through people, who gave us rude stares.
We finally made it into a fast food restaurant, and sat down at a table in the corner.
“That was horrible,” Rou said.
“Get used to it,” a female voice with a thick Russian accent.
We all looked up to see a tall, athletic woman in a white bodysuit with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was holding a vanilla milkshake in one hand.
“Yelena! You’re here!” I said, pleased to see a familiar face.
Yelena glared at me, and sat next to Natasha.
“You’re late. I was waiting here for ages.”
“Sorry, we got held up. I’m Rou,” Rou said, shaking Yelena’s hand.
“I’m Yelena Belova. Nice to meet you, Rou.”
“How do you know Natasha and Bucky?” Rou asked.
Yelena took a sip of her vanilla milkshake.
“Me and Natalia go way back. We’re friends.”
“Sometimes,” Natasha said, smiling at Yelena.
“Yes. But I think we’ve gotten past those days of us fighting.”
Rou looked confused.
“It’s a long story,” Natasha said.
“Your name is Natalia? I thought it was Natasha?”
“I’m from Russia. My name is Natalia Romanova. But please, call me Natasha.”
“How come you sound American?”
“I’m a spy. YA mogu sdelat' lyuboy aktsent, podkhodyashchiy dlya strany, v kotoroy ya nakhozhus',” she said, explaining how she could change her accent to fit the country she was in.
“You’re not very bright, are you?” Yelena asked Rou.
“Um, I’m a bit new to all this spy business.”
“So, what is this mission you need my help with?”
“We’re taking down a corrupt secret agency.”
Yelena perked up at that.
“Tell me more.”
I explained everything, and she smiled.
“Alright. I’m in.”