#cap winter soldier is still superior

[upontherisers]

Introduce your OC...solving a problem! Dealer's choice on OCs!

oh boy, this turned out much longer than i expected, so this is also going under a read more. i couldn't pick an OC, so i randomly generated a number and got #12! #12 is 1st lt. coretta bailey of the army nurse corps who oversees a fleet of nurses at the [need to look it up] field hospital in aldbourne.

i also introduce another OC of mine, private first class frances wilson, who is getting up to no good with her partner in crime, floyd talbert. this is a little bogo for ya!

#21. solving a problem

She normally didn’t do this. She let the kids have their fun, turned a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they got up to, gave a knowing wink, etc. But today, she shouldn’t afford that. The doctors were already on her case about two of her nurses being late for their shifts, she was understaffed anyway with the flu going around, and that lieutenant was making his way up here for a reason and she did not want to cause him any undue grief with that captain of his. 

She walked to the supply closet on the third floor hallway, dreading the sounds of shuffling inside, and yanked it open with her eyes to the floor, steeling herself against the gasps and what she was sure was the back half of a sensual moan. 

“Lieutenant Bailey, I—”

“Save it,” she said, and her shoes were looking particularly… plain today, weren’t they?

She gave the four of them a moment before looking up at them, sighing at the sight. They were all in various stages of undress, shirts, trousers, and skirts in disarray, and she was pretty sure she saw a hickey blooming on the side of Nurse Bedman’s neck. Already? They’d been in there less than five minutes.

“Get dressed, please,” she begged. “Lieutenant Winters is on his way up, no doubt looking for you two, and I will happily show him to this door.”

“Shit,” Sgt. Talbert swore, his eyes darting to Pfc. Wilson as he furiously buttoned up his shirt. The girl looked panicked, her usual, unflappably confident demeanor showing a little crack as she realized there were consequences for her actions. She looked back and forth between Talbert, the two nurses, and Coretta before starting to shove her shirt into her trousers, her dog tags jangling wildly.

The two soldiers looked at Coretta pleadingly as she watched them pull themselves together, Wilson pulling the garrison cap on to her head with a nervous sniffle. 

Coretta looked down the hallway, her arm still holding the door open, expecting their superior officer to arrive any minute. Talbert picked up on the glance.

“Listen, you gotta help us. Sobel’ll have our asses if we—”

“Yeah, Lieutenant, please,” Wilson said. “Just tell Winters you didn’t see us. We were never here. Please,” The girl stepped forward, looking her directly in the eyes. “We did extra push-ups this morning because Webster was late for formation. I can’t do ‘em again today, I can’t.”

Coretta huffed, releasing her grip on the door, and stood with her hands on her hips, staring back and forth between the two paratroopers and their puppy dog eyes. They were good kids, the two of them, if not prone to… carnal persuasions. They were always nice to her girls, never too disruptive, and good soldiers, too, as she heard from Lt. Winters. This wasn’t any different from their usual shenanigans, and any pressure she was feeling today wasn’t their fault. That Sobel was awful, making them panic like this. 

She could handle Winters for a few minutes, give them enough time to get out of the building and to wherever they needed to be. Unless he ran into someone, getting to the second floor, not seeing them, and coming to the third wouldn’t take long. These two sure had their ways of getting themselves into predicaments, but she had a way of getting them out of at least this one.

“Fine,” she said, ignoring the ‘yes’ and fist pump from Sgt. Talbert. “Go down the hall to your right, up the stairs, take the first right, then straight out the door at the end of the hallway. You’ll be on the roof. There’s a ladder on the northwest corner. Go, now.”

She stepped back as they sprinted past her, the heavy tread of their boots on the hardwood undoubtedly giving away their position. Her eyes followed them until they disappeared around the corner, then she turned to her nurses. 

Trainer was trying to help Bedman flip her collar over the dark bruise on the side of her neck while Bedman smoothed out both their dresses. The neat buns Coretta required of all her nurses were gone, waves of brown and blond spilling over their shoulders because Talbert got grabby when he kissed. They were in no shape to be out on the ward floor, and she heard footsteps on the eastern stairs.

Grabbing the inventory clipboard off the outside of the door, she tossed it at them, giving them a sympathetic grimace. “Get yourselves together, then let’s go. We have work to do.”

She shut the door as a familiar redhead rounded the corner of the stairs. 

“Lieutenant Winters,” she said, putting on her most gracious smile, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

The man stopped when she saw her, his furrowed eyebrows easing. “I was looking for two of my men.”

“Two of your men? Here?”

He tilted his head with a blink in his best expression of exasperation, and she laughed at her joke to diffuse the situation. “I haven’t seen any of your men since this morning,” she started, walking into the wider ward. Winters followed from a respectful distance, and she could feel his cool gaze as she stopped at a table. 

“Frank Perconte was here about his wrist at 0930,” she said, picking up the check-in sheet like it had anything of interest on it. “But no one from Easy’s been here since.”

From this position in the room, she could see clear out the front window to the wide lawn of the hospital. She was going to give Talbert and Wilson three minutes before she sent Winters after them. They were paratroopers, and fit ones, too. How long did it take for them to climb down a ladder?

“I believe these two are here quite often, not under an official visiting capacity.” He was so proper about it, she thought. His perfunctory Pennsylvania politeness was in place even when she imagined he was under plenty of duress.

She smiled knowingly. “Two of your men… ah, yes. Sgt. Talbert and Pfc. Wilson, is it?”

He nodded.

“They’ve made quite the impression on some of my nurses.” ‘All of my nurses’ is what she meant to say. They’d slept their way through three-quarters of them.

He quirked up the side of his mouth into a smile, revealing that oh-so-treasured dimple that she so rarely saw. 

And speaking of those two devils, Coretta heard gravel crunching underfoot from the open window. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two figures tearing across the hospital lawn, their green-brown ODs blurs of color against the sunburnt grass. Dick was too far back in the room to see them, and she washed her hands of whatever trouble they may find themselves in later.

With her part in this crisis averted, she turned to the lieutenant. He was standing at rest, his hands clasped behind his back. The pose showed off his shoulders, the line of his neck, his high cheekbones. He was strikingly handsome. All the nurses talked about him, the good-looking redheaded one from Easy Company, and Coretta found herself gazing admiringly at him on more than one occasion. She couldn’t afford herself that now, not with him looking directly at her.

“Is Captain Sobel workin’ you too hard, Lieutenant Winters?” she asked. “Your boys and girls are in here with bumps and bruises all the time. You got anything botherin’ you?”

She could at least try to get him to sit down and act like he wasn’t aching for a few minutes.

“If I get an injury, I’ll let you know.”

Of course, so perfectly diplomatic, this one was. How he got along with Lewis Nixon, she’d never know.

She raised her hands, not pushing the matter further, and watched over his shoulder as two respectably put together nurses emerged from the supply closet, hopefully with a completed inventory. “Well, thank you for your visit. Sorry I wasn’t much help.”

Winters dipped his head, putting his cap on. “You’re always helpful, Lieutenant Bailey.” He turned with a nod and headed out.

She watched him go, wishing she didn’t feel so wistful. 

Nurse Bedman approached her with a grin that could only be described as shit-eating. “You like hi—”

“Don’t you start with me,” Coretta snapped through gritted teeth, heart sputtering as she glanced to make sure Winters was already down the stairs. “You two are in enough trouble as it is.”

#my writing #coretta bailey #prompt fill #i'm sure there are typos #i did not proofread this #also idk what the nursing situation was like in aldbourne when easy was there #for the purposes of this fic it's whatever i just wrote #but for my big fic i will look it up and be yknow accurate and stuff #also was tab already sgt in aldbourne? probably not. idk i'll fix it #mercurygray #also the webster mentioned here is not pfc david webster bc he didn't join easy until after the jumped into normandy #a third oc? another webster? *wink wink wink* i'll never tell #mail call #meet 'em in the skies

[littlemissidontcare]

Literally I watched a YouTube live where 3 guys that sell comic books did, and they were rating marvel movies from superior to would never watch again. Guess which movie ended up in the superior category with maybe one or two others… The Winter Soldier.

I rewatch the winter soldier so much and everytime it feels like im watching it for the first time and thats when they should have made Bucky a lot more important than how he was used 😭 I love that movie so much plus Sebastian’s bad ass walk after he lands on that car off the bridge to chase Natasha I still freak out over that movie it’s 10/10 iron man and cap were peak of marvel then they stopped giving a damn after Infinity war and endgame

AGREED.

#bucky barnes

[findsilver]

i sure hope we find out more about sam’s past and his relationship with riley in particular in cap4 or tfatws s2, whichever. i’m looking at you, marvel studios.

#then again it's mcu lol #see life was better when my hyperfocus was on black sails like i was still going insane but at least like #they pulled the mcu reverse like there was no one left straight and they unburied gays #imagine being a giant franchise with an enormous potential and your revolutionary gay rep is a nameless dude #played by none other than one of the russo brothers for 2s #like i did in fact get brain damage #ngl i really dislike endgame for many reasons #there are some cool parts but i don't like it much #same with infinity war tho it's better than endgame #cap winter soldier is still superior #ANYWAY. thoughts? #my thoughts are that they were in love yo #sam and bucky give off such gay / bisexual alliance vibes #or bi / bi #honestly just not straight vibez #anyway.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The boys finding out you hooked up w/ Ross | Dysfunctional Quartet HC | post TFATWS

Read the other HCs & imagines -> Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Pairings: Pairings: Sam Wilson x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Bucky Barnes x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Helmut Zemo x Vigilante!reader (platonic/flirtatious), Everett Ross (flirtatious/slight romantic)

Content warnings: profanity, flirtatious banter, mentions & implications of sex. Mentions of violence | gn!reader (they/them)

Premise: The boys were aware their hacker companion Y/n was unpredictable. Having been a team for so long they should know to expect the unexpected when it comes to them—but a certain night of activities with their boss? Now that was something they did not see from a mile away.

—————————

See after being a team for so long, one would think the boys would be used to your unpredictable nature—but you knew how to surprise people.

Following a successful assignment, the four of you made it back to the States to do a final briefing with Agent Ross who was your superior. The meeting went good—no threats of being put back in prison because you actually stayed with the plan for the mission. Unlike the first one you were on.

When you were dismissed you were in a celebration mood and wanted to go out with the boys—even inviting Ross along. It surprised you when he agreed so you all made your way to a bar to have some drinks to toast another successful mission.

It was a fun time, but when the night came to a closing and the others were ready to go home, you still had to finish your drink and Ross offered to stay behind to make sure you made it back to the compound you were housed at. “Ahh don’t want to get rid of me yet, Rossi?” “Just making sure you don’t run off again, L/N.” “Whatever you say handsome.”

Well let’s just say that last drink you two shared turned into two. Then three. And one more for good measure until you two were stumbling into your room of the compound with your lips locked and clothes flying everywhere. “I knew you had a soft spot for me, blondie.”

Neither of you two had dabbled in late night activities in awhile—considering you were in prison, but that didn’t you didn’t know what you were doing. It was a mind blowing night to say the least—with you craving the agent more once it came to end.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to fuck your superiors—especially as a criminal— but you were not gonna let the opportunity slip away. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the older man to be attractive with a sex appeal making your mouth water. You didn’t expect anything to come out of it, but it was fun while it lasted.

The next morning was….interesting. Ross didn’t know how to act or say—feeling like it had been a bad idea, but you assured him with a kiss saying, “Don’t worry, Ev, I can keep a secret. This may have been a one time thing, so thanks for making it worth wild—but I wouldn’t complain if you wanted more.”

After some small talk and establishing the night must remain hidden from everyone—including the boys, Ross made his leave. The smirk wouldn’t leave your face all day—feeling very proud with the fact you managed to score some spice with the blonde agent. You felt very accomplished—even if you had to keep quiet about it.

The following day, a Sunday, the boys had come to your place to go over what the move was on your next mission. Zemo spent most of his time drinking your liquor stash looking bored, while Bucky and Sam did most of the talking—as they usually did. Bucky was quite the observer, so he could pick up on the shift of your behavior.

“What’s up with you today?” “Whatever do you mean, Winter man?” “You’re barely interrupting us and look more relaxed—what did going out on Friday do a number on you?” “I just feel confident that whatever you and Cap decides will be the best move, Buck. No need to get sus of me.”

Bucky didn’t buy it, and he took notice you were wearing a turtleneck when it was nearly 80+ degrees outside. Sam got his attention again, but the former soldier was trying to figure out what was up with you.

It wasn’t until Sam excused himself to use the bathroom—which happened to be in your bedroom, that the truth (unfortunately for you) was revealed. “Uh, Y/n, why is Ross’ tie and badge in your room?” Bucky nearly loses it, “ROSS’ WHAT?! Are you fucking kidding me? I knew something was up—how you’re acting, the turtleneck when it’s hot as hell outside—why you look like you won an Olympic gold medal.” “Bucky would you shut the hell up—.” “No, Sam! Can’t you see this can compromise our whole team!”

Zemo, still drinking goes, “oh my. Y/n you slept with our boss?” All you could do was bring your hand to your face, cursing that Ross’ dumbass—who swore to the Gods your night was to be kept secret—was the one to give y’all up in just a day. “That motherfucker.”

Zemo smirks—feeling quite proud that you, a criminal, fucked y’all’s superior who happened to be a federal agent, “Did you at least enjoy yourself.” All you could do was send him a wink, ignoring the arguing between the two avengers. “The man knows his way around a body—plus he’s big. I wouldn’t mind having another taste.”

Let’s just say, Ross was in for a treat the next time you four were briefed.

#bucky barnes #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson headcanon #tfatws headcanons #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanon #everett ross #everett ross x reader #everett ross headcanon #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo headcannon #helmut zemo #dysfunctional quartet #marvel headcanon #hacker!reader

[theravenclawlover]

I Know What You Did Last Summer

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: +18, heavy smut, cheating, angst, fluff, descriptions of violence, guns, strong language, and gore (?).

Word Count: 3,225.

Summary: Reader and Steve have been dating for some time. One day Steve leaves for a mission. A moment between Bucky and the reader might disturb the order of things, and not for the best.

Chapter Number: 1.

Chapter Title: How It Started.

A/N: Second story I ever wrote! This is one is sad and might trigger some people due to its themes. The warnings above should pretty much cover all the things this short book will contain. Please refrain from reading this if you are not comfortable reading this type of stuff. I want to say thank you for the love 'Monster' got (especially the smutty last chapter). Show some love to the rest of the chapters if you can, I would really appreciate some feedback.

If you would've told me a year ago that I would be in the middle of a love triangle, I would have laughed so hard. But now I wish that someone would've warned me about that mission a year ago. Before I start telling you what's wrong I'll tell you what was right…

I'm an Avenger. I was recruited at the same when Sam, The Twins, and Vision were recruited, so after the whole Ultron incident. Our superiors were Steve and Natasha. Within a couple of months, we all became a family. We all cared about each other; friendships were strong amongst those who lived at the compound. I loved every single one of those idiots, no matter how much at times I would want to strangle them. I had different kinds of fun with every single one of them.

But I got closer to one of them in particular, we got so close to the point of dating. My superior Steve Rogers. Steve was the sweetest guy in the world. We didn't start dating until I had reached six months of being an Avenger. To be honest with you almost everyone started dating each other after the sixth-month mark.

Steve and I were in a serious relationship no doubt. Everything was great, we had fun all the time, we trained together a lot, and we had many missions together. The first time we told each other ' I love you' was not until one of Tony's parties at the tower…

You and Steve were standing next to Clint, Thor, and Natasha. You were all talking about how things had gone down in the latest mission. It was the usual, tracking down any clue of HYDRA and there still lurking agents.

"I can't believe Y/N actually went for it. She was so tiny compared to that dude. He was even bigger than Cap here," said Clint with a voice of amusement, still not believing the fact that you actually ended up beating the crap out of that HYDRA brute.

"I will not lie, I was about to back out once he got closer because I don’t have a death wish like some of ya’ll,” everyone laughed as you almost glared at Steve, “but then I was like 'no can do, Cap is watching’ and also, mama ain’t raise no bitch."

Now everyone present laughed a lot harder as Steve rolled his eyes at the way you responded.

"We knew you liked danger, but damn, I would’ve gone the other way," said Clint as he down the rest of his drink.

"Lady Y/N was graceful in battle. And most importantly, she survived! Let's toast brothers and sisters!" said Thor give a loud cheer as he passed his Asgardian drink to Steve while giving you a loving smile.

"Cheers to Lady Y/N!" Everyone raised their glasses as Clint did his best Thor impersonation which only made the real Thor laugh.

"Cheers!”

"Hey, Steve, wanna dance?" you said while putting your now empty glass on the counter.

"Oh, umm, I don’t know,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I'm not a good dancer."

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow before grabbing his drink and putting it down on the counter next to your empty glass and grabbed his hand before he could give you any more excuses.

"Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” you stopped in a little spot where you could dance without anyone bumping into you, “and besides, It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

The music that had been good for some liberating dancing was now shifting to a more slower-paced rhythm. You looked at how Steve sported a soft blush as he realized the music had shifted.

"I guess we gotta slow dance now," you said shyly while putting your arms around his neck. He hesitated for a second before his big hands placed themselves on your hips.

"Y/N, I'm not a good dancer, I would hate to step on—" He didn’t finish his sentence as you stepped closer to him. Slowly, you and Steve found a slow rhythm. It was a little messy, but you didn’t mind that. He was trying.

"Steve, I want to dance with you, I don’t care if you don’t know how. I'll teach you what I know,” your eyes were locked with his, a soft smile gracing your lips, “You’re my boyfriend and I think I have the right to dance with the man that I love."

In an instant, you were blushing as you realized what had escaped your mouth. Steve has stopped moving and you noticed the ever-growing smile on his beautiful lips that matched the captivating glint on his blue eyes. He bent down and in seconds you were putty, legs going weak as his lips were on yours. It was a soft but passionate kiss the two of you shared that night. After the two of you had run of breath, he pulled you out of the dance floor. You left the party a lot earlier than planned.

After that night things got much better in the relationship. That is until months later when Fury called Steve, Natasha, and me for a mission. It was about where Bucky might be hiding from the world. The second Steve was told the mission was about finding his best friend, he was ready to risk his all to get him back. And the mission did go okay; Steve had to fight Bucky at first but some words from Steve and Bucky relaxed. We coaxed him into coming with us with the promise of helping him. After some months of constant care, Bucky got better. He had his memories gained most of his memories back with the help of Steve and his psychiatrist. He was well aware of the fact that the Winter Soldier could be triggered any second, and the team was constantly in the search of answers on how to remove that from his brain or whatever.

I was happy that Steve had his best friend back and I spent a lot of time with them because Steve wanted that his best friend and best gal to get along. We were a great trio, the whole team teased us with every single thing. The running joke with Tony was that we three could satisfy each other sexual fantasies. The only thing I could do was laugh as I tried to hide how embarrassing it all was. Bucky would smirk and blush, and Steve would just hide his face and call Tony an idiot. But it pained me to admit that you had thought about it before, and the guilt wouldn’t let me entertain the idea past rogue kisses and minor sexual activities. And that was where all my issues came from.

Steve, Sam, Pietro, Wanda, and Natasha were sent on a mission last minute. Timetables had moved and they needed to leave within two hours after Fury had told them everything they needed to know. The mission had them out of the country for a week. You guessed it was top classified as Steve couldn’t say anything about it except that it involved HYDRA. It had taken all your strength not to pull him back into your room as you gave him a long good-bye kiss.

That week was really something new for you. For the first time since Bucky joined the team, he wasn't training with Steve or Natasha. Which meant that the next best option was you.

"Hey, tiny, umm can I ask you a question?" Bucky’s voice came from behind you. You turned your head from your spot on the couch and smiled up at him.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Steve is gone and so is Natasha as you know. So, I was wondering if you could train with me? It's okay if you don’t want to," he quickly added as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sure, why not.” You got up from your spot on the couch as you gave him your devilish grin, “I gotta warn you though, I'm pretty good at knocking big guys down."

"If I can handle Natasha and Steve, I’m pretty sure I can take you, tiny.”

"Trust me, Barnes, I can be a little tougher than her. Just ask her.”

(…)

Bucky let out a pained grunt as he landed on the training mate once again.

"Damnit, tiny, I think you almost broke my back there," he said while he tried to stand up without showing how beat up he was.

"Nah, that’s just you grandpa," you said while you grabbed your water bottle, “are you giving up, Barnes?”

"Oh no, Doll. I'm going to put you down at least once," he said as he now stood ready for another round.

"Let’s see, Sergeant.”

With one last grin from him, he sent the first punch. I grabbed his right arm with my left hand trying to make him lose a little balance by pushing his arm out of the way. And that’s how it went for a couple of minutes, and you were getting a little cocky as he was getting messy with his punches out of his frustration. You smirked when the ‘perfect’ idea crossed your mind. You decided to do ' The choker' which is how you called Natasha's move with her legs. You managed to do it just as flawlessly as she did. But you had forgotten that he trained with Natasha more than he ever did with you, so it was no surprise he was able to get out of it. He turned you, your crotch was directly covering his face. And that kind of shocked both of you. The next thing you knew, your back hit the mat, and Bucky on top of you. If anyone were to walk in, the position you two were in would have definitely given them the wrong impression.

Bucky and you just stared at each other not making a move or saying anything. After a while of awkward silence, you tried to move your legs so Bucky could stand up. He reached forward trying to stand up at the same time you moved. You felt it: his dick was hard.

You cursed yourself at how fast the idea of him getting turned on by the position you were in had you ruining your underwear. You couldn’t help but gasp when you felt his boner touch your lower area as he tried to move again. This time he didn’t wait for you to move or anything, he detached himself from you and left you there. Before you could say anything, he had grabbed his stuff and walked out of the training room shouting a quick ‘thanking you’.

That night, you got off by the thought of having sex with Bucky. And while you finished with a shout of his name, Bucky had done the same while he came with a shout of your name.

That week that Steve was gone went extremely slow for you. The sexual tension between you and Bucky was too strong that you were afraid someone will notice how you two were acting around each other. You were feeling guilty because you had masturbated every night with the thought of your boyfriend's best friend. You were trying hard not to think of Bucky that way, but it was kind of hard when everything he did made you horny. You were dying inside and by the end of the week, you were 100% sexually frustrated.

Steve and the rest of the team got back around nine Saturday night. Steve was a little surprised not to see you waiting for him, but he shrugged it off thinking you were probably asleep. With that thought in his mind, he went to see if he could steal a kiss from you before waking you up. He got to your room to find your bed empty, but then he noticed the little note on your pillow.

Hey Cap,

In the shower.

Steve had to hold his groan when he saw you through the glass door. He could see the silhouette of you. You were naked, wet, and roaming your body with your hands more than necessary as you had no soap, just water.

"Doll," said Steve in that husky voice of his that made you weak on your knees.

You opened the glass door, finally revealing your full nakedness to him, not caring that some water was wetting the bathroom floor.

"Welcome home, Captain. Wanna take a shower with me?" you said in that sweet voice you always conjured up when you wanted something from him. Your hands slowly trailed up to your breasts as you looked at him hungrily. A week had definitely been too long for you.

Steve didn’t say anything as he almost ripped his suit off while never breaking eye contact with you. In no time you had an extremely turned-on Captain America. He stalked toward you, his body entering the compartment of the shower stall. He was right in front of you, all naked and dirty from his mission. The water was now falling on his messy blond hair, making him close his eyes for a second as the water ran down his face, down his long neck, down his broad shoulders, down his hard pecs, down his long torso, and down those abs, and finally down his hard cock that curved upward.

"You’re staring, sweetheart,” Steve’s teasing voice brought you back from your daydreaming. “Do you like what you see? Did you missed me?"

Steve got closer to you, and in a husky whisper he proceeded to ask you, “did you miss my fat cock inside of you? Did you miss me fucking you raw every night, huh, Y/N?"

Your legs were slightly shaking at his words and you knew you were dripping wet, but you weren’t going to allow the night to go with just you trembling in need.

"Well yes, Captain. I did,” your thin fingers roamed the hard arbs you loved to scratch and bite whenever you could, “I missed sucking, gagging, and riding that fat cock of yours, Captain. I missed how it stretched my tight pussy. And God knows how much I’ve missed the feeling of you spilling your cum in my mouth and inside my pussy."

You definitely broke him.

"Kneel down, I want you to suck this cock," he commanded with such hunger leaving no room for argument. He was taller than you for like a whole foot, so you kind of had to squad to reach his cock. Steve remembered this as he saw you and before you could grab a hold of his cock, he cleared the little sitting area and sat there for your benefit.

You placed yourself in between his legs, giving the tip of his cock a sweet kiss before you flatten your tongue as you dragged it from the base of his cock to the very tip.

"Fuck,” he groaned as he grabbed your wet hair and tangled it with his thick fingers.

Your lips wrapped around the head of his cock and you sucked hard. This made Steve groan your name loud enough to resonate in the bathroom. You loved his sounds, they just made you wetter as you relished in the way you were making him feel. Your right hand went to play with his balls, applying some pressure which added to his pleasure. His thighs were shaking the more you sucked and the more you played with his balls.

"Shit, Y/N. I’m going to cum." His grip on you got a lot more tighter which made you moan. This sent vibrations up his cock and just like that, he came with a whimper as he told you to swallow it all. You did without much convincing.

"Get up," he ordered in between breaths. You did and as soon as you had he pulled you in for a hard kiss. He moaned at the taste of himself on your lips and tongue. You pulled his hair as he pushed against the wall, trapping your body against his hard torso and the cold wall. Then his lips were off you and he flipped you, you back now facing him.

"Tell me what you need from me, love. Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue or with my cock?" he whispered into your ear as he sucked on your earlobe and kiss the side of your neck. He left small bites as he went.

"I want—” you moved your head giving him more room to bite and kiss, “—your cock, Captain. Please, fuck me with your cock."

He hummed in your words as one of his hands traveled down your stomach in search of your slit.

"Fuck, Doll. You are soaked," he said while teasing your entrance with his fingers. You moaned at the contact, but his fingers left not soon after. Before you could whine in complaint, you felt the tip of his dick. Both of you groaned as Steve pushed the head of his cock, but you whined his name when he pushed the rest of his dick in one swift thrust.

"Shit, Steve,” you clawed at the wall as the back of your head rested on his chest, “please, baby, move.”

"Oh fuck! I’ve missed this. I missed being inside of your tight pussy.” Steve was fucking you with deep and hard thrusts, your pussy swallowing his length greedily wanting to keep him there. You were trembling as your legs were going numb, and Steve noticing this grabbed your hips steady as he continued to praise your cunt.

"Cap, I'm going to cum! Baby, I want you to cum inside of me please!"

Steve bit your shoulder as he positioned himself better, that way he could hit your sweet spot rapidly. He was grunting as he sought out your orgasm before he let himself fill you up with his cum. A couple more thrusts and Steve had to hold you still as your legs gave out when your orgasm hit you. Your cunt spammed around his cock too tightly that Steve followed suit as you milked his cock of his cum.

After you had finally regained your breathing, Steve helped you shower as you both talked about his mission while both of you stole kisses here and there. Steve was home, and he was happy.

(…)

Once you two had finished in the shower, Steve had fallen asleep the second his head touched the pillow. You looked at his tired face, a sweet smile crossed your lips seeing him rest. But you weren’t as tired as he was, so your mind went back to your day’s musings. Before Steve had come into the bathroom, you had wondered how things would go if it had been Bucky who found the note. You hadn’t thought of him while Steve and you were together, no, but now you couldn’t help but think the way Bucky would sound, feel, and taste.

You contained a groan at your own thoughts. You needed to confront this, and you needed to do that before things got worse for you. or him. You wanted to tell Steve, he needed to know. It was only right, he never lied to you. Why would you keep this from him?

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@cnco-ravenclaw-46

@musiclover812

@teapartydreams

#I Know What You Did Last Summer #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Reader insert #Bucky Barnes x reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Cheating #Angst #Fluff #Smut #+18 #trigger warnings #The Ravenclaw Lover #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #fanfiction #mcu #marvel

[omegas-spaghettios]

Walker thinks Steve was more powerful than he was

Walker seems to have this idea that Steve was so successful cause he had the serum. While the serum DEFINETLY was a key, that isn't the sole reason Steve succeeded. Case in point, in every movie Steve either fought his match or his superior in power.

In TFA, Red Skull was his equal. He took on Loki in The Avengers where he was outgunned. He took on the Winter Soldier who was his near equal in TWS. He was far outclassed by Ultron yet kept up a fight with him for several minutes in AoU. Most of Team Iron Man sans Nat all had inherent advantages over him physically. He was prepared to take on the 5 winter soldiers with Bucky in a 2v5 situation KNOWING they were all more powerful than either him or Bucky. He took on the Black Order multiple times, who also were stronger than him. And in his biggest example of power difference, he took on Thanos in Wakanda, if even for a few seconds.

Even when he had Mjolnir, Thanos still outclassed Steve. And guess what? Steve NEVER whined about needing more power like Walker does. Steve always worked with what he got from Erskine until he was literally the only man standing between Thanos and not only the death of Thor, the death of the ENTIRE UNIVERSE. And that power he wielded was because he was WORTHY of it. Steve elected to fight smarter and harder, not to whine and scramble for more. He could have easily taken Mjolnir in 2015, he could have easily asked for a suit from Tony, but he never did because he respected the power he already had. In contrast, Walker gets his ass handed to him by the Dora Milaje and he whines, goes off and takes the serum, and then commits murder for the whole world to see. It makes me believe John REALLY didn't follow his career or care because if he did, he would see that Steve REGULARLY was outclassed yet made it work.

And Steve selected Sam to have the shield KNOWING Sam wasn't a super soldier. Sam was by Steve's side in most of his fights in his latter half of appearances and Sam never whined or complained either, and he wasn't even a super soldier! Sam, with NO hesitation, said he would not take the serum. Sam is an ordinary man (physically, cause God knows he is the best of us) and he already believes he is powerful enough to do what he needs to do, even though in ALL of his fights he has been batting up in power.

Steve saw being a super soldier as a privilege and an honor to respect, Sam sees it as something he doesn't even need, while Walker sees it as a necessity. THAT is (one of many reasons) why Walker is NOT fit to be Cap.

#the first avenger #the Avengers #the winter soldier #age of ultron #civil war #infinity war #endgame #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #sam wilson #steve rogers #captain america #john walker #us agent #spoilers

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Agent or Princess

Everett Ross/Fem!Reader (9 Chapters)

Work Summary: Reader is a former Marine now CIA agent who works alongside Everett Ross, whom she’s harbored feelings for. She is with him on the mission in South Korea that ends up going sideways. King T'Challa takes her to Wakanda with Ross, only to find out Reader’s long lost brother, Killmonger, is there as well. Now she must decide which side she is on and figure out how to tell the man she loves who she really is.

Requested on AO3

Mood board made by @maddiestundentwritergaines​

Chapter 1: Korean Nights

Summary: Reader and Everett Ross head to an underground casino in South Korea to ‘buy’ some vibranium from a dangerous source.

You were in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on your disguise for that night. Stacy, the other female agent sharing your room, looked on envious as you finished the last of your make-up and took a step back to look at yourself in the hotel mirror.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you’ll get to be in the room when all the action goes down while I have to man the van. How did you get so lucky?”

You smoothed out your dark red dress and double checked that your thigh holster wasn’t visible. “C'mon, Stacy. Like I wanna be within fifty yards of Klaue. That man gives me the creeps. If it wasn’t for Ross volunteering me as tribute, I’d swap you places.”

“Sure you would,” Stacy now had a smile like a cat that ate the canary. “Like you and Ross have ever been more than ten feet away from each other during a mission.”

You turned away as you felt your face grow warm at her words. “That’s because he’s afraid I’ll do something stupid again, like I did in Germany.”

Stacy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well I gotta agree with Ross on this one. What the fuck made you think you could go hand to hand with the Winter Soldier?”

“In case you forgot, I was a marine before I was CIA. I’ve fought worse odds and won.”

“You’ve also fought worse odds and run.”

In response, you tossed a pillow at her. “Hey, I held my own pretty damn good.”

“Until he tossed you like a paper cup into Tony Stark.”

You grabbed your hand bag and began to double check for your supplies. “Speaking of which, have we gotten any update from him?”

“Do you really think he’d know where Cap and crew ran off to?” Stacy leaned against a dresser as she watched you.

You purse your lips. “Maybe not exactly where, but you can’t tell me that one of the smartest people on the planet doesn’t know how to get a hold of his former teammates if he really wanted to.”

“So Stark lied?”

“More like omit. And frankly, I’m not really surprised.”

“Why don’t you tell Ross this?”

“Tell him what? That I have a hunch that the man who cracked SHIELD’s firewall when he first joined the Avengers is hiding what he knows? How easily do you think we could prove that without Stark’s cooperation?”

Stacy frowned. “Good point.”

Before you two could wonder more, there was a sharp knock at the door. "That’s probably our fearless leader.”

As if to prove you right, Everett Ross called through the door. “_____? Stacy? Are you two ready to go? We need to get set up before Klaue even gets within five miles.”

“On our way, boss,” you called out as you closed your purse.

“Boss, huh?” Stacy whispered. “Tell me, do you call him ‘sir’… you know, when it’s only you two.”

You hit her harder with the pillow this time. “Get your head out of the gutter. Ross is my superior officer. It’s strictly professional between us.”

“Sure it is,” she smirked at you now. “That’s why he damn near lost his mind when he heard you fought the Winter Soldier.”

“That was concern for his agent, nothing more.” You hurried past her and pulled open the door, surprised to see Everett still standing there in a light grey suit and black tie. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked despite your shock. “Oh! Agent Ross, forgive me. I was not expecting you to be standing there.”

His eyes widen momentarily at your body hugging dress before he cleared his throat and composed himself. “Sorry, Agent ____. But we are on a tight schedule and we need to get you wired before we enter the casino.”

“Of course.” You and Stacy followed close behind to the elevator and then out of the hotel. Towards the back of the parking lot sat the van Stacy would occupy with another agent and the two cars that would take you, Ross, and two other agents to the casino.

The van door slide open and Josh climbed out, tangled in several wires. Stacy rolled her eyes and started to free him.

“How the hell do you manage to do this every damn time?” Stacy grumbled.

“Yeah, Josh. You’re like the human version of headphones. Stick you somewhere small and you end up as one giant knot.”

Josh just stuck his tongue out. “Less bitching, more helping.”

“Hell no. Its way more fun to watch you struggle.” As Stacy tried to untangle one of the many knots, you stepped past into the van and grabbed a handful of communicators. You held your hand out and the other three agents reached for their ear pieces. Stacy noticed something odd.

“You got married, Ross? Why didn’t you tell us?”

Confusion crossed his face as you looked down to see a ring on his hand that hadn’t been there back in Germany. Your heart broke a little, but you reminded yourself that he was technically your boss and you two had only ever been colleagues. Still, whoever she is was a lucky bitch.

“What, uh, what are you talking about, Agent Miller?”

“She’s referring to the wedding band on your finger, boss.” You commented quietly as you adjusted your ear piece and fix the corresponding piece on your bracelet.

Everett looked down at his hand and you saw a light blush come to his face. He cleared his throat. “Uh, no. It was recommended that I pose as a married man to make it seem like I was less of a threat. If I have a family, it would be perceived that I would not do anything dangerous or stupid.”

“That’s 'cause _____ already cornered the market on stupid and dangerous.” Stacy flashed you a look and continued to work on Josh.

“Trust me, I plan to be nowhere near Klaue unless absolutely necessary.” You still hadn’t looked at Everett, this time though, to hide your relief at him not being married.

Suddenly, a small box was thrust into your line of sight. You looked up to see it was Everett holding it. “The straws were picked and you’re the other half of the subterfuge.”

You raised an eyebrow and took the box. Inside was a beautiful ring. “Well, the government must have upped our budget. This cubic zirconia looks almost real.”

Stacy snorted as she pulled the remaining wires off of Josh. “Maybe one day you’ll get the real deal.”

“Yeah, as soon as I’m able to carve time out of my secret agent life to actually date.” You slipped the ring on and the added weight felt weird. You weren’t big on jewelry as it was never practical to wear during a mission unless it was part of your disguise. Except for a ring you wore around your neck ever since your father had died. “Are you done with the human headphones? We really should get going.”

“Ha ha.” Josh muttered as he crawled back into the back of the van. Stacy closed the door on him and hopped into the driver’s seat.

You and Everett piled into one car while the remaining two agents took the other one. A short drive later, you were walking down a narrow street filled with fish markets, the van parked a few blocks back. You took point for the four agents and smiled at the older Korean lady as you walked up to the underground casino.

“Hello Sophia,” you purred in perfect Korean. “How’s the action tonight?”

Sophia looked at you carefully and then at the small group behind you. “What is this? Since when do you bring friends?”

“Be kind! One of them is my husband. He got tired of being left behind.”

She eyed Everett and then gave you a knowing smile. “Weapons?”

You gave a half shrug and she narrowed her eyes at you.

“Ay, don’t be that way! We’re meeting someone and he worries for my safety.” You looked back at Everett and smiled. “You know how men are.”

This time she let out a small giggle and gestured with her head towards a hanging tarp. “Have fun.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a brief peck on the check before you led your crew inside.

“So what was that all about?” Everett offered you his arm after you passed by the metal detectors - which beep, but security ignored.

The two agents behind you split off to the right as you and Everett descended down the stairs to the game floor. “Oh, just working my charm so we wouldn’t get hassled about our weapons. You know, my job.”

Everett smirked at you and escorted you over to the bar. “Just because I can’t speak Korean doesn’t mean I don’t know you were talking about me.”

“Perhaps we were.” You placed the drink order and handed Everett his glass. “But wasn’t that the point of making me your partner during this? We’ve worked together for so long that we’re comfortable enough around each other that us being 'married’ doesn’t seem too weird to people.”

“Except for those who may think you’ve settled.” His sarcastic voice didn’t quite match the pain you could have sworn you saw in his eyes. A mistake, clearly. There was no way he felt the same way you did about him.

“The only ones who would think that would be our colleagues. You know, 'cause you’re such a pain in the ass.” You winked at Everett and walked off to change some money into chips.

Everett was right behind you and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned around to change some money as well. “Look who’s talking. Do you know how exhausting it is to keep track of whether or not you’re going to die during a mission?”

You willed your body not to melt into a puddle at the closeness. “No more exhausting than any other agent I would imagine.”

“Hmmm.” Was his only response as you both took a spot at a roulette table.

You placed your respective bets when suddenly you felt eyes on you. Looking up, you made eye contact with the last person you expected to see tonight.

“Don’t freak out, Ross. But the king of Wakanda is here.”

Chapter 2

#fanfic #fan fic #requests #request list #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #agent or princess #everett ross #black!reader #fem!reader #angst #tw: violence #canon typical violence #everett ross x black!reader

[qqueenofhades]

... Remember the Russian Revolution au? Which ended with Fedyor's sister very sick and Fedyor searching for Ivan in hopes of getting help for her from him? Fedyor finding Ivan and offering to do "anything" in exchange for his sister's medical treatment? Ivan secretly wanting Fedyor, but refusing to take what he wants like that? Soooo... I would also like the big the big 3 of your coming projects to happen, but... y'know... just.... wanted to bring this au up again... ;)

Behold, the oft-requested follow-up to the first two Russian Revolution au ficlets. Ahem.

Fedyor does not sleep that night. He does not even think about sleeping. He only leaves the army headquarters long enough to think hard about what he is proposing to do, wonder if it is worth it, and decide that it is. Katya needs the medicine, he has no other recourse, and he is categorically unwilling to return home to his family as a failure, when they have placed all their trust and hope in him. Ivan has hinted that he might be able to obtain it, and so that, no matter what it takes, is what Fedyor will have to get him to do. And for that…

He knows that he is not unattractive. He has dark eyes, dark hair, a dimpled smile, a personable and friendly manner that, in happier times, attracted the attention of many an eligible young lady who wished to ice skate or promenade around the park or take a carriage ride, as courting Russian couples are wont to do. However, while Fedyor was perfectly happy to chat with ladies, or escort them to a ball, or fulfill his essential chivalric duty, he was not otherwise interested in wooing them. It was partly for that reason that he signed up to the military, where an enterprising young man can have other opportunities in the darkness of the barracks. So long as his family was kept conveniently unaware.

For all that the Bolsheviks have overthrown the government without a clear plan as to what to do next, and accordingly plunged them all into this miserable civil war, Fedyor does secretly sympathize with certain of their beliefs on the remaking of family life. They say that marriage is outdated and bourgeoisie, that monogamy is unnatural, that women should not be subject to patriarchal systems, and that homosexuality is an equally valid state of nature. Such a possibility of sexual classification and divergence is much discussed in Europe these days, and there is even a small but growing scholarly literature, written by eminent scientists. Sexual Inversion by Havelock Ellis, published in 1896, argues that the man-loving man is indeed even a possibly improved form of human, associated with superior intellectual and artistic achievement, and that nothing about his attachment is wrong or abnormal. Two years before that, Edward Carpenter wrote Homogenic Love, and in 1900, the German Elisar von Kupffer published an anthology of homosexual poetry, Lieblingminne und Freundesliebe in der Weltliteratur. Such texts are relatively easy for an educated, French- and English- speaking young Russian intellectual, such as Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, to lay his hands on. He is not sure what can come of it, but at least he knows that he is not alone.

The question remains as to Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov’s proclivities. Unless Fedyor is very much mistaken, Ivan was at least considering the possibility of accepting his offer, and turned it down for honorable, moral reasons, feeling it unjust to sexually extort a young gentleman in exchange for his sister’s care, rather than physical horror at the idea of such a coupling. If he’s a Bolshevik, he’s probably acceptably tolerant of their philosophy on an abstract level, but it’s less clear as to whether that extends to its personal practice. If Fedyor turns up in his bunkhouse – which, come to think of it, is probably shared, curse these Bolsheviks and their dratted communality, highly inconvenient for a midnight seduction attempt – scantily clad and willing, will Ivan’s objections hold out then? Or… or what?

Fedyor doesn’t know, but the uncertainty adds to the frisson of shameful excitement, rather than detracting from it. He searches through the streets of Chelyabinsk for some bread (it does not seem in much greater supply than in Nizhny Novgorod) and waits for the sun to go down. In March, the days, though getting steadily longer, are still short and chilly, and it’s bitingly cold when it gets dark. Then he pulls up his muffler, tells himself not to be unduly precious about it, and heads for the makeshift army quarters on Kirovka Street.

The buildings in downtown are beautiful, built in the Russian Revival style of neo-Byzantinian splendor, though the onion-domed Orthodox churches have all been converted into stables and armories, and anything that whiffs of an ideology contrary to the Red one has been economically discarded. Fedyor reaches the door, knocks, and when a disgruntled sergeant comes to answer it, expecting him to be a soldier out too late and in line for a ticking-off, Fedyor raises his hands apologetically. “I’ve come to join up,” he says. “The great socialist cause of the world’s workers is the only true one for a patriotic Russian man, and I vow it my full allegiance, if you will have me. I was speaking to my friend earlier, Ivan Ivanovich, and he suggested it. Is he still here?”

The sergeant eyes him squiggle-eyed, but they cannot afford to look gift horses too closely in the mouth, or turn aside willing recruits. It takes a while, but he shouts for someone who shouts for someone else, and this finally produces the startled personage of Ivan Sakharov, who clearly thought it was for the last time when they parted several hours ago. Upon sight of Fedyor, he stops short, looking alarmed, angry, and wary all at once. “What are you – ?”

“Can we talk?” Fedyor is resolved to do this, he truly is, but he feels it best to get it over with before that wavers in any degree. Whether he wants it too little does not seem like the problem; on the contrary, he fears that he wants it too much, and if he stops to reflect on it or delude himself with any nonsensical notions of it being more than once, that can only hurt the cause. “Somewhere… private?”

Ivan hesitates, as if asking to commune out of sight of the others is tantamount to heresy (though it’s not as if these damn hypocrites didn’t plot in secret, away from their own countrymen, for months and months, Fedyor thinks angrily). Then he jerks his head. “Fine. Five minutes. This way.”

He leads Fedyor up a few narrow, creaking staircases, past closed doors that echo with snorting and snoring and coughing, the cacophony of his comrades, none of whom seem to be enjoying their glorious victory quite as much as they thought. Ivan, however, appears to be sufficiently high-ranking in the Red Guards that the room they finally arrive at, though not much larger than a closet, is at least private. It reminds Fedyor forcibly of Ivan’s room back in St. Petersburg, the one they slept in together, that first night after the Winter Palace. It sounds more intimate in his recollections than it actually was. Nothing happened, of course. But Ivan was kind to offer it, kind when he did not need to be, when a young tsarist soldier alone in the ferment of riot and revolution, such as Fedyor was, would not be likely to see the new red dawn. It is that which Fedyor keeps in mind as he shuts the door with assumed casualness, then turns around, meets Ivan’s eye in a significant fashion, and shrugs off his coat, cap, and muffler. Then, unmistakably, starts to unbutton his shirt.

He has almost gotten to the bottom by the time Ivan, who is staring at him as if he’s lost his marbles (it is unclear if this is an encouraging fashion or not) finally recovers his sense. He strides forward and covers Fedyor’s hands with his own large, callused rifleman’s fingers, sending a shock of attraction burning through Fedyor from head to toe, along with the death of any more illusion that he could continue to be casual about this. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fedyor’s throat is as dry as a bone, but he forces himself to speak. “I said that I would do anything for my sister’s care, if you would help.”

He lingers suggestively on the word anything, just as he did before, in case there was any doubt (as if the undressing wasn’t enough) what he means here. Ivan looks like a cornered bear, but as his eyes catch Fedyor’s and flick across the lean, muscled torso thus revealed beneath the shirt, he swallows hard and has to glance away. The attraction trembles silently in the air between them, tense as a piano string, tuned to snapping. In the old days, that is, when people played pianos, and did not burn them for firewood, as Fedyor’s parents were preparing to do with theirs when he left home. It chokes raw and painful in his throat. He is attracted to Ivan – desperately attracted, in fact – and yet he still hates what the Bolsheviks have done, even if the Romanovs and the Provisional Government were no better. The deposed Tsar Nicholas II is under house arrest with his wife and five children, the four tsarevnas and the tsarevich, in Yekaterinburg. Little sick Alexei Romanov, whose hemophilia opened the door for Grigori Rasputin to control the queen, the royal household, the government of Russia, and so bring about the end of their house. He was like something from a fairytale monster, that Grisha. The rumors of his death, not quite two years ago in December 1916, is that it almost did not happen, he was so hard to kill. A demon. A beast.

“You cannot do this,” Ivan says, his voice too rough, his eyes still struggling to remain decorously averted. “It is not – it is not right.”

“Not right?” Fedyor flares. “So a little spot of armed treason and overthrowing the man who, however deficient he might be, was the heir of one of the oldest and greatest empires in the world? That part was entirely aboveboard, but this, when you want this – don’t lie to me, I’m well aware you do – to help my sister? That would be a sin?!”

Ivan backs up a step, glancing around shiftily. These walls are thin, and he clearly does not want his beloved brothers-in-arms to hear this. “Fedyor Mikhailovich – ”

“Have me.” Fedyor is done playing games. “I’m here, I’m yours for the taking. You can do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me the medicine at the end.”

For a long, spellbound moment, he thinks Ivan is on the brink of agreeing. Then once again, he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I could not in good conscience consent to this. But I will fetch you the medicine. You do not have to give me anything in return.”

Fedyor gawks at him, shocked – and, it must be confessed, more than a little disappointed. “I thought it was fair trade,” he says. “Tit for tat.”

“It is…” Ivan shakes his head, eyes once more straying to Fedyor’s bare chest. “Button your shirt up,” he says, half-laughing, not angry, breathless and soft. “It is very distracting.”

“Good.” Fedyor takes another step. “I think you deserve it, you obnoxious bastard.”

“Be that as it may.” At least Ivan has the good sense not to dispute it. “I cannot do this,” he repeats, more gently. “You are a fine young man, Fedyor Mikhailovich. Perhaps in another life… but it would not be honorable to trade your virtue for this.”

“My virtue?” Fedyor has to laugh. “What makes you think I have that?”

Once again, Ivan wavers. But to give him (loathing) credit, he will not be swayed. “Button it,” he repeats. “I will arrange to have the money and medicine sent by your lodging by tomorrow, if you give me an address in the city.”

“I don’t have one.” Fedyor folds his arms. “Only here.”

Ivan looks even more startled. His lips part, he takes a step forward, and for a brief, wild, exquisite yearning of an instant, Fedyor thinks he is actually going to kiss him. They’re almost close enough – not quite, but almost – for it to happen. Then Ivan says, “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“I…” It catches in his throat. “I don’t know. I hope.”

“I would,” Ivan says. “I would be.”

And that, somehow, is all that seems to matter. Even as Fedyor spends a night in Ivan’s narrow camp cot of a bed, Ivan insisting on taking the hard floor out of an excess of gallantry, an echo of their first night in St. Petersburg. Ivan does as ordered, gives Fedyor some rubles and some medicine and a train ticket back home to Nizhny Novgorod. He personally escorts Fedyor to the train station to make sure he does not come to grief, then stands on the platform, staring after him like Vronsky watching Anna leave one more time. The train begins to huff and puff, spitting soot and embers, and Fedyor keeps his nose pressed to the glass, leaving a smudge, until long after, as it seems he is never destined to do anything but, Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov has vanished into the mist.

#heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #ivan x fedyor #russian revolution au

[shotsbyshae]

Not Afraid Anymore

Warnings: Language,Smut

Words: 2.3k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: A little Sinday Drabble. There is a reason Nick Fury assigned you to Steve Rogers. You’ll tell him one day.  

Song: Not Afraid Anymore by Halsey.

And touch me like you never.

2012

You were there the day he was thawed out.

Watching as Agent Coulson fanboyed out over the life-size Ken doll.

Fury rolling his one good eye makes you hide a smirk.

You bet Coulson fifty bucks that he wouldn’t fall for the elaborate set-up S.H.I.E.L.D. had created to try and convince him it was still 1945.

Phil took the bet.

There is no hiding the smug smile from your face when Coulson’s beloved Captain America goes feral, knocking out agents, busting through the wall, and running out of the facility.

You watch from the backseat of the black SUV as Fury approaches Rogers. The man standing in the middle of Time Square looks like a lost puppy with his wide, innocent blue eyes and short blonde hair.

“Are you going to tell him?” Phil questions from the driver’s seat. “Who your –”

“No,” you interrupt him. “I think he’s got enough to process for a while.”

Nick speaks with him for a few moments, then he begins walking the science experiment back to your SUV. Fury had ridden with you and Coulson. Which means – the rear passenger door opens and you’re not sure why you feel nervous as Steve Rogers climbs onto the bench seat beside you.

“Hi,” he looks surprised by your presence and the word comes out uneasy as Fury climbs into the passenger seat.

“Captain, this is Agent Coulson,” Fury introduces your superior first, which is customary, before he gives the man your name.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve gives a nod, eyes narrowing slightly. Something about you is familiar, but he can’t place it and you see the questions written on his face.

You feel awful for him.

This wouldn’t be easy for anyone.

Waking up to find everyone and everything you knew is gone.

Later, you stand outside Fury’s office, watching him and Coulson. Steve Rogers sits in front of Fury’s desk, looking more rattled than he did in Times Square. Nick Fury’s eyes land on you through the glass partition and he raises his hand, motioning for you to come inside.

“Sir?” you question him as you enter, closing the door behind you.

“I’m going to need you to help Captain Rogers adjust,” Fury states, his gaze shifting over to the Captain. “A lot has changed in seventy years.”

“What?” the request shocks you. You glance to Coulson and he gives you a nod of reassurance.

Of course. Why would they assign someone else to him when you’re here?

Only Coulson and Fury know who you really are.

“Agent Coulson’s already cleared you,” Fury comments and you look over to the man in the chair.

A big, blonde, blue-eyed, lost puppy.

You had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to make a difference.

For the thrill of missions and secrecy.

Yet, here you are, baby-sitter to Captain America himself.

So, for months you help him – teach him – things that he should know.

The Internet. Cell phones. Computers.

A checking account. Debit card.

Shopping. Driving, although he’s more comfortable on a motorcycle.

Microwaves.

Pizza Rolls.

Nutella.

You introduce him to Star Wars and the two of you start doing movie nights to get him caught up on cultural references.

Rogers tells you about life before the serum, about Bucky, Dr. Erskine, Howard, and Peggy. You hear about his team, The Howling Commandos and their raids on Hydra.

He’s lost so much, and you see a side of him that no one else sees.

The golden boy is broken.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, as the two of you approach your car one night. He always insists on walking out with you when you leave his apartment.

“For?” you question, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets as you smile, hitting the unlock button on the key fob there, because he’s already reaching for your car door.

So old-fashioned.

“I know you didn’t want me as an assignment,” he says, pulling open the driver’s door. “But you’ve helped me – a lot. I mean, I don’t really have anyone, so thank you, for being a friend.”

Little lost puppy.

You give him a warm smile, “Well, you have me now and I’m pretty awesome.” He laughs as you smirk. “I’ll always be your friend, Rogers. I promise.”

“Oh, that’s a promise?” he says it questioningly, and you pull your right hand from your pocket. Fist clenched tightly, only your pinky finger extending from it.

“Pinky swear,” you say simply, and a smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he lifts his left hand to wrap his pinky finger around yours.

“Okay,” he remarks. “Pinky swear it is.”

Friends.

Always.

You keep your promise, even when Loki gets inside your head later that year. On the carrier, you come face to face with Steve and for a moment, you hesitate. Unable to fight him as the Asgardian had instructed you to do. Natasha lands a hard, right hook to your jaw, knowing it had worked on Clint.

When you wake up, Fury’s there. He tells you about Coulson and your heart shatters, but you keep your emotions in check. You follow him to a conference table where he gives a speech to what’s left of the team.

Everyone’s in their own head.

Defeated, but determined.

He doesn’t come to you until later, when you’re sitting on the steps, adjusting the leather gloves of your uniform as you wait for the fight that’s coming.

“You good?” there’s concern in his tone.

You nod, “I’m – I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you,” he states. “We’re okay.”

Your eyes shift up to him. The red, white, and blue uniform making him look every bit the hero that Coulson would fanboy over. You lift your fist to him, extending your pinky finger. He gives a smile, his finger twisting around yours tightly.

2014

You keep your promise, even when the Hydra trained assassin The Winter Soldier tries to kill you, and Steve tells you that the man is Bucky Barnes. You’re not convinced – until you are – as you watch The Winter Soldier pull an unconscious Captain America from the river.

Sam tells you he’s awake and when you enter the hospital room, he tries to give you a smile. It pains you to see him so beaten and bruised.

Little lost puppy.

Broken again.

“I saw him,” you say quietly, standing beside the edge of the bed. “I saw him pull you from the river.”

“It’s Bucky,” he states, the sadness in his voice is heartbreaking.

You lay your hand on top of his, a small comfort, “I should have believed you. I’m sorry.”

His hand shifts under yours and you feel his pinky finger intertwine with yours.

A reminder.

2015

Tony Stark brings you in full time at the tower after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D. because Fury left him a note explaining who you really are.

Stark is surprised to say the least, but happy, and he promises to keep it a secret. You haven’t told Rogers yet, but you will – at some point.

Ultron happens and Tony moves you upstate to the new facility and suddenly you’re spending more time with him than before when not on missions.

You overhear him and Sam in the kitchen one night.

“What’s the deal with you two?” Wilson questions.

“Sam,” Steve sounds exasperated. “She’s a friend. It’s easy to be around her – she knows me.”

“Uh huh,” Sam remarks. “Pretty sure they have another word for that.”

“Sam,” his tone is reprimanding.

“Okay,” Wilson replies. “But weren’t you the one giving Banner advice on not waiting too long?”

You’d be lying if you said the thought’s never crossed your mind.

You’re human.

But he’s always been that lost puppy in the middle of Times Square.

The broken hero in need of a friend.

You enter the kitchen, surprising Sam more than Steve. He smiles at you warmly, a small glint in his blue eyes and it reminds you that as long as he needs you to be that – you will.

His friend.

Always.

2016

Nigeria happens and everyone’s hit hard. The night you all return, he stops by your room. Leaning against your doorframe, still looking like the blonde haired, blue-eyed puppy you were assigned, just a bit older – refined.

“You okay?” you question him as you continue to unpack your duffel.

“No,” he responds quietly. “But I have to be.”

Closing the drawer on your dresser you sigh, before turning around to face him, “Heavy is the head, Cap.” You move back toward your bed. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” he folds his arms across his chest. “Hey, I – I – know it’s not the best time.” When he stumbles over the words, you glance at him. He’s all nerves. “But do you want to get dinner this weekend – with me?”

Your brows furrow curiously at his question, “Dinner?”

“Yea,” he responds with a slight nod. “Dinner.”

A smile slowly spreads across your face and you watch it reciprocate on his as you say, “Sure.”

“Ok then,” the puppy is still in there, because you see him. “Good.”

The two of you never make it to dinner though.

Ross shows up the next day with the Accords and turns your world upside down. When the lines get drawn, you find yourself standing across from Steve Rogers. The wounded look in his eyes is enough to shatter you.

For the first time, you are part of the reason he’s a little more broken.

Your heart is ripped from your chest when Tony returns from Siberia, tossing the vibranium shield on the floor in front of you. You see the anger and heartache in the older man’s face, but he doesn’t tell you what happened.

Only that Steve is alive.

2018

Two years.

It’s not that long, but it feels like an eternity.

The pardon had gone into effect and they were finally coming home.

Your friends – family really.

Although, after the fight in Germany, you’re not sure if Steve even wants to see you.

Keeping yourself busy as a distraction in the lab, you aren’t aware someone’s standing in the doorway watching as you run tests on an artifact Parker had come across. He finally clears his throat to gain your attention and you turn around slowly.

The man standing in the doorway of the lab, makes the Steve Rogers you met the day he woke up after being in the ice look like a boy. A thick, dark beard lines his jaw, his once short, bright, blonde hair, now darker, longer. You have the sudden urge to run your fingers through it, and you realize you’re staring at him – not breathing.

“Steve,” you say his name as if it’s foreign to you.

“Hey,” his voice is even a little deeper.

His eyes are the same though. A beautiful pain stricken blue.

You can’t imagine what he’s been through the past two years. The fallout with Tony was bad enough, but the things he’s done since then.

The person he had to become.

Still the broken hero.

But how many times can a broken thing break?

“I missed you,” he finally says softly, and you smile as you bring your fist in front of you, pinky extended.

A reminder.

There’s a ghost of smile on his lips as his long legs close the distance between you in a couple strides. His finger hooking yours tightly. “I needed you.” He whispers, eyes taking in your features before his soft, plush lips crash against yours. He moves his hand to encompass the side of your face, his tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste.

This wasn’t the reunion you had expected.

No objections though.

His broad shoulders seem to tower over you as he pushes you against the lab table behind you. A glass beaker falls victim to the collision and shatters against the floor. Steve Rogers may still be broken, but this is a side of him you’ve never seen.

He’s filled with desire and want, spreading it to you with every lick and dip of his tongue.

An all-consuming need.

Wet.

Hot.

Desperate.

You’re arching into him, feeling the length of him press into your hip – hard. Your fingers are in his hair, pulling him closer to you. His mouth moves to your jaw, before working his way down your neck. You feel the graze of his teeth at the vein there, nipping and sucking.

You didn't know you wanted this.

Needed this.

You've never needed anything more than him in this moment.

That little lost puppy – a full-grown wolf – who knows exactly what he wants.

You.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a breathy moan against his ear and you feel him press harder against you. The moan from his chest feels more like a growl and your right leg hooks around him. You need to feel him there and his fingers grip your thigh tightly as he grinds into you. His mouth captures yours again a little softer this time – affectionately. You press against him, heat radiating through your jeans, an aching, slick beneath and you need him to know what he's doing to you.

Begging for him to take you.

To devour you like the animal he's become.

You will help fix your broken boy.

Protect him.

His shield.

“Cap,” Tony’s voice is cold and stern from the doorway. His lips leave yours, blue eyes staring down at you mischievously at being caught. The next words fall from Stark’s lips and you watch as the realization crosses Steve’s rugged features.

The familiarity of you the first day in the SUV.

Fury assigning you to him.

It all made sense.

After all, Howard had admired Steve Rogers.

“Get your fucking hands off my sister.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers smut #marvel #mcu #avengers fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers fanfiction #fanfic #sinday #bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfic #avengers fanfic #avengers #fanfiction

[prettywordsyouleft]

hi chelle hope weather is treating you well and you're doing okay 🥺. can i request a mark (got7) drabble? something sweet and domestic like cooking together, watching tv and complaining about characters to each other.

Admittedly, it's pouring down outside and is apparently meant to be torrential rain for the next few days. I got stuck out in it earlier and it didn't take long for my compromised immune system to break down. Hopefully it won't become something too sinister!

Pairing: Mark Tuan x female reader

Warnings: I put Marvel content in here (and now I so badly want to watch with Mark ;;)

Word count: 397

________________

"Wait, does the sauce go in now?" you questioned, glancing over at Mark, who smirked. "Does it?"

"I'll leave it up to you to decide, Y/N."

"No! You can't do that to me. What if it burns?"

"Then I'll eat your burned food happily," he announced with a bright grin.

Reaching to shove him playfully, you turned back to the instructions on the back. "You know it's bad for your health to eat burned food. I won't do that to you."

"Then you should wait until the last few minutes before adding the sauce."

"You knew!" you accused, and Mark laughed, coming over to your side and pointing to the back of the packet.

"So would you if you focused enough to read this."

-----

"Sam is superior."

"Hell no. Bucky still has his arm and a whole lot more of combat experience."

"Sam can fly," Mark countered, and you frowned. "See, Sam is superior."

"What if Sam's wings were broken?"

"The same could be said about Bucky's arm. Face it. You're only saying Bucky is better because you're more attracted to the Winter Soldier."

"Shh, don't call me out like that."

Mark laughed heartily, and you both focused on the TV show for a little longer before another scene provoked thought. By the end of the episode, you finally agreed on something.

"John Walker is a jerk."

"I can't wait until Sam gets the shield back," you added, and Mark looked at you. "What?"

"Not Bucky?"

You shook your head. "Bucky's not Cap material."

"What type of material is he then?"

You smiled knowingly, and Mark rolled his eyes. "How about we go to bed?"

"Gaming session first."

"Bed, Mark."

"One hour. Then I'll come and join you."

You rolled your eyes, getting up and going off to your bedroom to get ready for bed.

-----

Mark quietly slipped into the bed beside you an hour later. "You're here."

"I knew you'd wait for me."

"Do you know all night long we've been bickering?"

"You call that bickering?" he asked, nuzzling your shoulder after settling in beside you. "Just because we're together doesn't mean we share the same views on everything. I like our varied conversations."

"Even when I say that Buck-"

"I'm superior," he announced quickly, and you spun around in his loose grip, grinning up at Mark.

Pecking his lips, you then nodded. "You sure are."

________________

My ask box is open for this week’s Chelle Chats!

#chellechats #mark tuan drabbles #got7 drabbles #kpop drabbles #pwyl; saturday drabbles

[winterironbang]

Art Preview:

 Below you will find the art previews for this year, remember authors that its not quite time for claiming yet!Take a good look and pick 2-3 favourites and remember their Title for when claiming does begin.

If you’d rather see the art as a google doc click here

   Title: Kissing under the fireworks

Description/Prompt: what it says on the tin. Kissing under the fireworks.

This one is a pretty open universe, could be a first kiss, a regular kiss exchanged at New Year's Eve, the fireworks are celebrating that one of them have been crowned King or them finally getting married. Or maybe a romantic proposal at a holiday celebration. 

Warnings: None

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

 Title: welcome back / welcome home 

Description/Prompt: Bucky pulls Tony into a bone crushing hug, extremely relieved that Tony is back home and alive. Bucky doesn't plan to let him go, ever again. 

Open verse, could be a no-power AU, or pre-Afghanistan, or maybe sometime when Tony is IronMan. It could be focusing on Bucky's anguish at not knowing where is Tony if he is alive. Or could be the celebration that Tony is home. Maybe how is their life is being affected after.

Warnings: None

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar

   Title: 19th century AU

Prompt: 19th century-vibes AU (or can be Bridgerton AU), with behaving one way in private and another way in public to save face, love, and searching for one's freedom. (Can be ABO or not)

Limitations: dubcon/noncon between the OTP, eye gore, MCD, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), unhappy ending, pwp. I would prefer if it was not simple love at first sight.

 Title: Sweethearts

Description/Prompt:  Punk!Alpha!Bucky gets into a fight, not on purpose - this time - and while he does win, he gets beaten badly. 

He tries to walk it off, but he runs into his Omega classmate Tony who is heading home from a late night lab-session. 

Tony sees him and is very adamant to treat Bucky's injuries - he lets slip by accident a couple of details about Bucky, showcasing that he pays more attention to Bucky than a "proper" Omega should. 

Tony patches Bucky up, and they fall asleep on the couch, Bucky relaxing after a long while.

They end up becoming friends and Tony offers to tutor Bucky. 

They end up falling in love with Tony, and Bucky stops skipping class and getting into so many fights. Though Tony patches him up, every single time. 

In the end Bucky's grades improve enough that he finishes in the Top 10 of the class. 

Warnings: none

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar  

Title: Iron Man Noir AU

Prompt: Iron Man Noir AU with influences from Spider-Man Noir. It is 1939, Tony Stark is undercover in Berlin in his hidden Cabaret, to gather intel, and help where help is needed. 

Why is Bucky there? Is he sent for undercover work, ready to meet some secret contact? Is he a Russian spy sent to gather information about America's plans? Or is he just some normal guy who wandered into the wrong Cabaret at the wrong time? 

(These are just some ideas for Bucky, if you have others, let's talk! Bucky could be MCU-inspired or comic-inspired, or a mix or something else.)

Limitations: noncon between Bucky and Tony,  MCD, ABO, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), eye gore, eye things in general, unhappy ending, pwp, smoking except pipes.

  Title: BDSM AU

Description/Prompt: I was definitely thinking praise kink and rope play, but feel free to include others as well. Who is being tied up is the Author's choice, I will adjust the art accordingly (like including Bucky's metal arm) 

Warnings: BDSM, Rope play and I guess other kind of kinks if they get included. 

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar.

    Title: Sea AU 

Description/Prompt: Siren/Mermaid Tony and Sailor/Pirate/Privateer!Bucky - Tony visits his land bound lover, Bucky. 

This one is open verse, I have already listed couple of options for them, but feel free to change that. 

The world can be dark - Siren!Tony attracts unsuspecting ships (and sailors) to their death. Either by Bucky's sword or by shipwrecking them.

Could be angst - ala Little Mermaid style (original or Disney version) or a completely new one 

Could be hurt/comfort - Bucky is the only survivor of his ship, because Tony saved him. But Tony could only bring him to a lonely Island, where the only way out is for Bucky to build a raft, and Tony provides company whenever he can stay above water. 

Could be fluff - Tony and Bucky deeply in love, where in the end Bucky follows Prince Tony into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again by human eyes.

Or any other combinations! Go wild! 

Warnings: None, I would say 

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

Title: Vampire Bucky

Prompt: Vampire Bucky AU with Bucky. How does Tony find him like this? Let’s brainstorm together.

Limitations: noncon between Bucky and Tony, unhappy ending, pwp, MCD, ABO, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), eye gore, eye things in general, smoking, evil Tony, evil Bucky

A/N: It's still very sketchy, total WIP.

   Title: Knight in shining armour

Description/Prompt: The Winter soldier is pulled from a burning HYDRA base by IronMan. 

Open verse, it could be that Bucky is slowly methodically taking his revenge on HYDRA, and everytime he is injured IronMan comes and rescues him, but Bucky never stays, all the way until the end. 

Or maybe Bucky was kidnapped and wiped, and IronMan wiped out the HYDRA base in revenge and now he is taking Bucky home.

Maybe IronMan finds HYDRA during Avengers one and decides to do some recon on his own and comes face to face with Bucky Barnes. 

There are sooo many possibilities! 

(While the IronMan armour is intended to be the Bleeding Edge armour, this can be changed) 

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort? Possibly darker themes 

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

Title: Dragon Shifter AU

Description/Prompt: Tony and Bucky are dragon shifters, Tony with fire magic, Bucky with ice magic. They can't stand each other, but they have to get along now... (Basically any enemies/ frenemies to lovers story you can thing of will make me happy, maybe with arranged marriage or a common goal/ enemy?)

Limitations: no A/B/O, no Civl War salt, no non-con between bucky/ tony, no mpreg

A/N: This art is purely self-indulgent. Anyone who wants to just have fun with the idea feel free to pick it up!

Title: Warlord Tony AU

Prompt: Everyone has heard of the warlord Iron Man, a cunning monster whose troops mercilessly slaughter his opponents on the battlefield and who has never lost a single battle. According to some he's not even a man at all: After all, he can cut through weapons and people alike, and survived direct hits that would kill a normal man. His army turns wins fights against superior numbers and his cannons never miss their target. Very few people know that he also hides quite a number of secrets in a calm little valley at the heart of his territory, in a town called Arc.

For Bucky, you can go wild - whether he's part of a tribute, an enemy soldier, an assassin or something else. We're looking forward to talking about plot ideas!

Warnings: implied violence, blood

Limitations: no non-con between Tony/Bucky, no fully evil Tony, no MCD, no ABO, no mrpeg, no team cap  bashing pls

  Title: Alpine 

Description/Prompt: Biker Bucky finds Alpine on the side of the road, abadoned and hungry. Bucky decides to take Alpine to the vet, unfortunately this being - your choice of holiday - there are not many vets are open and most of them is for emergency only. 

Bucky worried that the kitten won't survive the night, runs into vet!Tony who is about to head home. However seeing the kitten, Tony decides to help and nurture the kitten. Alpine survives the night and becomes a bike-riding cat, usually traveling on Bucky's shoulders or back pack. 

The story could be a falling in love at first sight, or Bucky bringing all kinds of animals to Tony, because Bucky trusts Tony to take care of them. (There maybe a cracky story hidden in there somewhere too *wink*) 

Warnings: no kittens were harmed in the making of this prompt - none 

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar  

    Title: Late night dance lessons 

Description/Prompt: Bucky is baking late into the night as a super soldier he doesn't need much sleep and baking is a relaxing hobby. It's 2am, the night is quiet no people around and his favourite music is playing from the stereo. 

This is the moment when Tony arrives (could be a long night at the 'shop, or maybe just coming in from an overnight flight, maybe this is the time they regularly meet), they get into a small talk which slowly evolves into Tony staying and talking and Bucky reminscens of old times and what he can remember. It's a soft and tender talking the one people only have at 3am. Then an old times music comes on, reminding Bucky of nights when he went out to dance. And Tony seeing the look on his face offers to dance with him. 

Warnings: None

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

Title: Feats of Flexibility 

Description/Prompt: Bucky is doing push-ups, and someone accuses him of showing off - he had been in the gym for hours now - and Bucky claims that this nothing challenging to him, so naturally he is challenged into proving it. 

This is escalated into more and more complicated and complex tasks ending in Tony sitting on Bucky's back while he is doing push ups, with his feet in the air 

Poor Tony who only come down to keep in shape and tries valiantly to not stare at those feats of muscles and flexibility gets roped in 

Can end in a kiss/confession or more sexy times *wink*

Warnings: None

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

Title: Untitled

Description/Prompt: Open to any ideas for some steampunk shenaniganry! Skyships, pirates, dashing captains, scrappy inventors, swash*buckly* adventures?

Warnings: none?

Limitations:  DNWs include a/b/o, mpreg, noncon, dubcon between major protagonists, death of major protagonists, unhappy/ bad endings

  Title: Fantasy Secret Identity AU

Description: Bucky standing in front of a wall plastered with posters of all sorts, among them some wanted posters, one for Iron Man, one for the Winter Soldier.

Prompt: Tony Stark is a well-known noble and mage, and Iron Man is a well-known villain. Of course, the two aren't connected at all. Until Tony Stark takes on a bet to figure out the identity of the man in the armor - and hires James Barnes, a washed-up mercenary to find any clues possible. It's just as well James has no links to the feared assassin called Winter Soldier, because that would be making things complicated.

I'm always open for other ideas but am really hoping for some identity porn :D

Warnings: None

Limitations: no A/B/O, no mpreg, no CW salt, no MCD

A/N: I haven't inked most of the posters in order to leave the author some freedom for the AU they want to make - I'm open for suggestions about adding stuff in!

  Title: Promise of the Desire to Live

Description/Prompt: This is a Pokémon crossover piece. The Pokémon egg on the left belongs to Magearna and will hatch in her original coloring (which are pretty much Iron Man colors). This Magearna will be the partner of Tony. The Pokémon egg on the right belongs to Mewtwo and will have almost the same coloring as Shadow Mewtwo except that his tail will be navy blue. This Mewtwo will be Bucky’s partner. Here’s the prompt – 

            The Avengers are called to deescalate a situation involving a young and semi-inexperienced Inhuman who lost her family due to a suicide bomber. After receiving her powers mere days after that traumatic event, this young girl, no more than 12, is able to sense who has a strong desire to commit suicide and send them to places/people/beings that need help and are able to bring them back from the brink of suicide.

Omega!Tony and Alpha!Bucky are sent to a Team Plasma lab with an egg incubator in the center of the room with two eggs in it. They take the eggs.

Warnings: Discussions of depression and suicidal thoughts

Limitations: Story cannot be ended with the Pokémon hatching. I want a full-length Pokémon journey from Bucky, Tony, and their Pokémon. I want them to find a way to travel between the Pokémon world and their home world. Also, must have A/B/O. No rape.

Title: Bunny Tony/ Wolf Bucky

Description/prompt: No matter what the media and Hollywood tried to say, there wasn't really that much difference between predator and prey presenting people. A jaguar wouldn't love climbing trees and napping all day anymore than a squirrel would hoard nuts and play deadly games with cars.

But whenever Tony's gorgeous rear and fluffy tail wind up in Bucky's line of sight, he has to clamp his teeth against a strong urge to bite. And when Tony comes down to the kitchen each morning, hair a mess and silky, floppy ears on display, Bucky has to fight more possessive urges. He's sure neither the team or Tony would appreciate Bucky dragging the bunny off to his territory...Would they?

Warnings: N/A

Limitations: Happy Ending, No Civil War, No  AoU, No bathroom kinks, Prefer Team as family, Explicit welcome

A/N: The sketch will be colored and have at least one more piece featuring a Wolf Bucky. And maybe a shot of Tony's fluffy tail.

  Title: Untitled 2

Description/Prompt: something based on the John Wick tailor scene or James Bond-Q outfitting or just general spies or mafia? 

Open for brainstorming or alternate interpretations or anything really! Assassins/Spies not up your alley? image can be edited/background removed if your idea is for a non powers tailor au instead!

Warnings: canon typical violence for story (john wick levels or mcu levels up to author?)

Limitations:  DNWs include a/b/o, mpreg, noncon, dubcon between major protagonists, death of major protagonists, unhappy/ bad endings

Title: Hold out your hand

Description/Prompt: The only thing I feel needs to be heavily included in the fic would be about Bucky's relationship with his arm and how Tony helps him with that (though it doesn't technically need to be the main storyline) 

If you want other input then I love tropes especially soulmate type situations and Bucky recovery fics, but pretty much any trope is good. 

Warnings: NA

Limitations: Character death, age play (I am pretty much open to anything else, any rating is cool with me as is including smut or not)

A/N: I am still messing with the composition and finish on this so if you have any input then let me know :) (for example the smaller images of the hands and Tony could be used individually for page breaks in the story rather than being the main art?)

Title: Porcelain and Metal or maybe a Toy au?

Description/Prompt: This particular piece was created because I really wanted a porcelain ballerina tony and nutcracker-ish bucky.This could be a first meeting scene of sorts with bucky being a shameless flirt but the writer could expand and add more scenes of course! I mostly just wanted a very cute and magic realism-ish vibe. 

Warnings: N/A

Limitations: No unhappy endings. A bit of angst for the sake of the plot is fine. Non-consensual acts of any sorts is also a no

Title: Scheherazade AU

Description/Prompt: Based on Thousand and One Nights, war chief!Bucky refuses a spouse and threatens to kill anyone he's set up with. Tony ends up married to him and talks every night, leaving off right before bed so Bucky has to keep him around another day 

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Limitations: no noncon/heavy warnings. Also really not into stucky, even as background influence/past feelings. Also don't want any feminization of Tony by having him as 'weaker' or a damsel. I don't like infidelity or overcomplicated drama because of simple misunderstandings. Some smut is okay, but no hard kinks, PWP, or A/B/O.

A/N: Besides inspiration of original story, I don't have much planned. While no warnings, it would include arranged marriage, but no actual noncon please. I like slowburn so totally down for a long fic. Also pretty relaxed with background ships and always here for some epic friendships (tony and rhodey, bucky and nat, etc). 

  Title: Mirror images

Description/Prompt: Bucky and Winter got separated into two bodies by accident or on purpose, which helps greatly with them getting along better (or at all), until they decide independently to woo Tony 

Both of them show how much they care about Tony, even if it's very very different from each other 

Tony appreciates and loves both and absolutely can't decide between the two (nor does he want to because both are important to him) and it ends in polamory either a triangle or v-shaped

Warnings: N/A

Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink) 

A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar 

Title: College au meet cute or something

Description/Prompt: No specific plot, maybe Bucky and Tony like each other but both are oblivious to the others feelings. Steve and Rhodey as the "Why am I bestf riends with an idiot" best friend. With minor thundershield please 

Warning: N/A

Limitations: No unhappy endings. Bit of angst for the sake of plot is fine.

A/N: Will color and clean this up a bit. I'll also be willing to make more art for the story if ever.

#winterironbang #winteriron reverse bang #art preview #winteriron #ironwinter

[imustgo-on-icantgo-on-illgo-on]

"Captain America", and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier

The fight over the shield is so beautifully done, because everything that happens physically also happens metaphysically, and it gives every punch thematic weight. All of the characters are fighting for different reasons, and it translates into how the fight transpires.

Walker fights the hardest. He feels he has to desperately cling to the shield, and subsequently his identity as Captain America, in order to protect himself from his decision to kill someone so publicly and brutally. In his shell shocked and almost manic state, he can't rationalize what he's done as right, and he's terrified of not being a hero because his best friend, his superiors, his wife, and the public all expect him to be. Heck, they already see him as one (although they should see him as a PTSD ridden veteran who needs therapy, support, and NOT to be in the field). So he uses the rationale that if its a decision made by Captain America, how can it be wrong? He desperately fights for that shield because it is, to him, the only thing keeping him from being the bad guy. Thats why he fights to kill, and why he holds onto the shield until his arm breaks. In that moment of hysteria he would do anything for the shield, even take a life, because to him the shield justifies it. In a reversal of Sam's sentiment from episode one, Walker believes that he is nothing without that symbol giving him meaning.

Bucky is even more straightforward. He's fighting for Steve, and subsequently his own sense of identity and self worth. He sees Walker as having tainted the shield, and Steve's legacy. We can see from the get go that he's looking to take that shield by force, definitely before Sam is. That shield is, as he later explains, all he has left of Steve. His family. However, in respect to that legacy, he doesn't fight to kill. The difference between the Winter Soldier and Bucky fighting is so striking, because Bucky is so much, in a way, gentler. He is trying to get the shield more than anything, and its only once he realizes how desperate Walker is to keep it that he stops "pulling his punches" so to speak, and does some real damage. Once he takes it, he even stands with the shield a moment, but because he fought specifically for Steve's legacy, he knows he can't keep it. He tosses it down next to Sam, still clearly bitter about him having given it up, but still putting the decision of what to do with the shield in his hands.

Sam has the most complicated position, and subsequently is the person who fights the least for the shield. He hasn't been privy to any of the signs of Walker's PTSD before now, but now that he has he approaches him different. He wants to talk him down and get him help, just like he wanted with Karli. However, it quickly becomes clear that Walker is (like medically) irrational and is convinced they aren't helping him, they're just trying to steal the Captain America title. And Sam sees that. And Sam still doesn't know if that's what he does want, so he fights to disarm, and subdue. But Walker wanted it more.

Without Bucky there, Walker would have killed Sam, or Sam would've had to fly out of there.

Not because Sam isn't capable, its not a super soldier thing, as I'm pretty sure he's going to 1v1 Walker next week to symbolically claim the mantle of Cap, but because in that moment he was still conflicted. He doesn't hate Walker for having the shield, and he understands the weight of its importance. He also knows that America won't welcome a black Captain America the way they did Walker, but Just like the shield isn't the governments property, neither is the Captain America title. He's not meant to pick up the mantle so he can be welcomed. It doesn’t matter what the government wants its, Steve was always rebelling against his own agencies and stuff anyway. He needs to be Captain America so he can give everyone hope that there are still good people in this world. A changing world, that he can play a hand in guiding into the future.

Bonus for those who read to here: Shout out to all my fellow abuse victims who got triggered hearing Walker yell "WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS" I like analyzing and empathizing with characters, I want him to get help, and it's heartbreaking that he's just gonna keep getting used by higher ups to fight and scar up his brain even worse.....But hearing that transference of blame was capital R for Rough

#Captain America #the falcon #the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #john walker

[rosequartzwriting]

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader

Description: You offer Bucky coffee, with an accidental espresso shot, and the caffeine gets to him. Fall themed!

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev on Jan 21, 2019 /  Sorry if Bucky feels out of character, I blame the caffeine I gave him / Written for Alex 

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

“Where is he?”

Steve looked up from his breakfast and pointed to the open door of the fridge. Tony was rummaging through it while mumbling to himself, but perking up at the sound of your voice. He had a strawberry in his mouth, there he goes snacking again. Food never seems to last in the tower.

You held up the tray and Tony's face lit up. He wanted you to do his morning Starbucks run. Even if the tower had plenty of coffee and tea options, he needed his pumpkin spice latte and he wanted it done right. You never thought Tony would be that type of person, to like sugary and basic white bitch drinks, but he is apparently.

“I’m not Pepper.” You said blankly, eyeing the man as he approached to claim his drink. “Why did I have to go and get your coffee?”

“Because you’re the one who messed up on the last mission, (Y/N).” Tony answered with an fake innocent smile.

“I tripped!” You gasped in defense, really you tripped. It was an accident but it made a domino effect and you almost costed everyone the mission. The guys in the tower were not going to let you forget anytime soon, it was too embarrassing. And you were thankful Sam didn't have a camera because that would be the worst.

“You just need to have your pumpkin spice latte.” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Get in the fall spirit, Rogers.” Tony said, taking one of the cups from the tray greedily.

“I can only imagine what he’ll do on Halloween…” You mumbled under your breath. The over the top decorations and his making everyone play along with his enthusiasm...Oh no what about Christmas...you didn’t even want to think about Christmas.

Before you knew it Tony left with his coffee, not even thanking you for going out in the cold to get it. Something wanted you to go follow him and shove the other three steaming hot cups down the front of his shirt, but you refrained since you wanted one of them for yourself.

Instead you bottled up your frustrations and you took one for yourself and gave one to Steve. Tony paid for it so it doesn't matter, free coffee for you then!

While taking a sip of your own delicious latte, you heard heavy footsteps enter the room. Soon Bucky groaned and dragged himself into the kitchen.

“Morning Bucky.” You said, taken aback by his sudden appearance. He simply nodded in response, he was not a morning person. It seemed that your heart jumped to your throat every time he acknowledged your existence, and you’ll take a simple nod as one.

“Come on Buck, wake up. We got training to do.” Steve announced, cleaning up his dishes.

“Yeah yeah I know. God, you’re so loud.” Bucky looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep, or a few gallons of coffee. He slowly made his way to the pantry and stumbled dug for the breakfast bars, a quick breakfast before training.

"Hey Bucky, you want one?" You offered him one of the coffee cups, knowing it was a dangerous game you were playing by speaking to him this early in the morning. But thankfully he didn't chop your head off, he merely turned around to see what you had offered.

"What is it?" He asked, staring at the cup with a blank face.

"Pumpkin spice latte."

Bucky looked skeptical, but took it and raised it to his lips to take a sip. The sugar hit him before the caffeine.

"It's sweet."

"See its not that bad." Steve chimed in, drinking his own latte.

"The future is weird..." He mumbled, sending a slightly amused-looking smile in your direction. You didn't know if you wanted to scream or run to your room and hide.

"Technically its the present." Steve tried to be smart.

"Shut up." Bucky started to walk out of the room, still slightly groggy (the caffeine would kick in soon though) but he looked back. “That scarf looks good on you.”

You glanced down at it, fleece and yellow plaid. You grew shy and scratched the back of your head. “Thanks.” You realized it came out as a mere squeak.

He smiled and left after muttering "Thank you, (Y/N)", probably to get ready for training. Deep down you didn't want to see him go, and you heart pounded when he said your name.

"Weird."

"Hm?" You turned to Steve.

"He usually hates mornings, he looked happy."

It just dawned on you. Everyone feared bothering Bucky when it was too early, and on a normal day he would go into full Winter Soldier mode when anyone dared to step across the line of 'I'm too tired to be alive right now and I'll murder you and burn your body if you get in my face'. Maybe it was the latte you gave him, to your knowledge Bucky didn't drink coffee much.

Then you realized something...

Oh Shit.

"Oh no," You knew Steve would scold you, so you changed your wording in your head before it came out of your mouth.

"What?"

"I gave Bucky the one with the espresso shot..."

The Captain chuckled and patted your shoulder, "Its fine, he needs it."

You slightly laughed, if it made him a little less of a morning grump then why not.

"Don't worry, it probably will not turn out as bad as that one time when Pietro had just regular coffee." Steve remembered.

So many things in the Tower were broken that day, Tony was furious. There was plenty of yelling, and the speedster almost passed out from the overdrive. From that day forwards, Pietro was never allowed to have coffee ever again.

"But I kinda needed that espresso shot..." You groaned.

"Calm down, you'll live." He said it so simply you almost wanted to knock him upside the head. Then he mumbled something; "Also I don't think the coffee was the reason he was happy-"

"What?"

He ignored you.

"Well I'm gonna head to the training room, see ya kid." Cap left the kitchen, leaving you with your latte (that sadly wasn't strong enough to kill your exhaustion) and you finally could have your breakfast. Because someone didn't let you do anything until you fetched their morning coffee (Tony "Im Iron Man and Im Superior To You" Stark).

~~~

"Who gave Bucky caffeine?" Sam announced to everyone in the training room while eyeing the man, who was now finishing his latte.

"You're just a sore loser." Bucky placed the empty cup back on the table and was ready to spar with his friendly rival again. Bugging Sam was his favorite past time.

"No really, who thought that would be a good idea?" Sam didn't drop it.

The glass doors to the training room opened and you walked in, holding your tablet and flipping through the new file you just received from SHEILD headquarters. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, you were abruptly interrupted.

"It was her." Cap threw you under the bus.

"What did I do?" You whined.

And the next few seconds was a quick-fire dispute, remarks shot through the air like bullets.

"You gave Bucky coffee." Sam pointed at you.

"So?" You asked.

"That's a bad idea." Sam snapped.

"Sore loser~" Bucky sang.

"Shut up." Sam shot.

"You are a sore loser Sam" You mocked.

"Shut it!" Sam warned.

"Sooorrrreee loooser!" Bucky stretched out.

"QUIET!" Sam barked.

"I need another." Bucky sighed.

"You are not having another." Sam snapped.

"(Y/N), can I have another?"

"Bad idea" You admitted.

"Enough!" Natasha raised her voice and the arguing stopped suddenly. "God, you three are like nagging seagulls. You don't shut up."

"Sam's the seagull." Bucky made one last snarky remark, making you snort while you tried to hold in your laughter.

Before Sam could attack again, you finally spoke up. "Just got a new mission file from Fury. He says it's urgent."

Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Clint (who had been enjoying the argument quietly) all gathered around you. You projected the file into a hologram and blew it up so everyone could see.

"Security breach at a lab in France." Nat read the notes.

"So? Just a lab," Bucky shrugged, then thought about it, "right?"

You zoomed into the picture on the file, the logo looked strikingly familiar.

"Haven't we been keeping tabs on them?" Clint asked.

"We have." You worked quickly and pulled up a case file SHIELD had been watching carefully. They matched, the lab's company specialized in fusing technology into human anatomy, in the most illegal ways, sketchy black market stuff.

With a few more buttons pressed, you pulled up the live security cameras of the laboratory. There was a black van parked outside. It hit everyone.

"HYDRA." Steve breathed, and everyone knew it was important to leave to France as soon as possible.

"So who's going, Cap?" You asked, and soon everyone was looking at him with anticipation.

He didn't even need to think, he knew who he wanted. "Nat, Clint, Sam, you're with me on this one."

Those selected celebrated, there hadn't been a decent mission in a while. While those who weren't going, meaning you and Bucky, pouted.

"HA!" Sam jabbed a finger in Bucky's face. "You're not going!"

"Don't care!" Bucky shot back, pretending like it was true. It was a lie.

~~~

With some of the Avengers gone on a mission the tower was a little more quiet, probably because it was still early or because Sam and Bucky were separated. Both were very likely. With everyone else asleep, you and Bucky were the only ones up. After the others went on the mission, you decided to look through some more case files to see if you could find anything that could help down the road.

While sitting in the lounge and listening to some music, you tried to stay focused. You tried to stay awake while simultaneously trying to stay warm from the cold weather outside. It was beautiful and sunny, but it was freezing non the less. Snuggling under a blanket had proven to be a solution to only one of your problems,  you were growing drowsy again. If only you had got that extra espresso shot.

Speaking of that espresso shot...

"Hey (Y/N)!"

Jumping from the sudden voice, you looked over and saw Bucky enter the lounge. The couch dipped down as he sat beside you, and he seemed to be full of energy.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Someone's cheerful this morning." You sat up and tilted your head as you spoke.

"I think it was the coffee you gave me." He chuckled.

"Yeah about that..." You started shyly, "I accidentally gave you the one with the extra espresso shot..."

It clicked in his head, "Well that explains it, I guess I couldn't taste it from how sweet it was-" He caught himself, "not that it wasn't good. I liked it. I appreciated it, thanks (Y/N)."

Regardless of his growing awkwardness, which you wanted to explode from because he was too cute, he was speaking a mile a minute.

"You alright, Buck?" You asked, "A little hyper."

"Maybe Sam was right...no more coffee for me." He admitted to himself, looking a bit sad. He must have liked the pumpkin spice latte while it lasted.

”Maybe you need to burn it off.” You suggested.

”Tried to during training, not working, still buzzed.”

“Maybe try going outside, go for a run maybe.”

He gave it a thought, then turned to you with something in his eyes. "What do you say we go for a walk? It's pretty nice outside." Bucky smiled at you.

Forget how cold it was today, going outside to hang out with Bucky was worth it.

"Sure!" You said, maybe sounding a little to enthusiastic.

”Alright, can we go now? If that’s alright?” He said shyly, practically bouncing in his seat.

”Yeah sure, no problem.” You both got up off the couch.

”Okay dress warm, meet you back here.” Bucky dashed off to get his coat. You laughed at how energized he was, and assumed this would be like taking a dog on a walk (or more like a dog taking you on a walk).

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #the winter solider x reader #the winter soilder #james barnes #captain america #the avengers #reader insert #y/n #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson

[nev3rfound]

almost lost, but not quite : avengers

brief summary: you are hydra’s weapon, something no one would expect. but when you’re forced to fight the avengers, they realise how vulnerable you actually are

word count: 2.1k requested: yes by @sevenmorningstars​ - thank you for reaching out a while back with your idea i hope you like it! warnings: mentions of abuse (scenes described similarly to winter soldier) 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

masterlistin’

permanent taglist

You listen as the door is unbolted, but you keep your eyes trained to the floor. 

Three pairs of boots were stood in front of you now as the door creaks in desperation. “Soldier,” The superior speaks up and you slowly lift your head up, locking eyes with the man in the middle wearing his full uniform. 

“What is my assignment?” You question, void of emotion as he nods. 

You watch as the men either side of him stand at your sides, lifting you up. 

Fighting against their hold, they look to the superior with concern. He sighs to himself as you continue to struggle in their hold. “Come, soldier, don’t fight.” He states. “We don’t want a repeat of last time, do we?” 

The memory causes chills to run through your body, and you stop fighting. You fall limp in their arms, letting them drag you through the door and down the endless corridor filled with screams and sorrowful pleads of freedom. 

 Within minutes you enter a room that you’re no stranger to. A single chair awaits you, the ties ready to be wrapped and a Doctor on standby with a metal tray of instruments he won’t hesitate to use. 

“Sit, soldier.” The superior motions to the chair, and you comply. 

Sitting down, you shut your eyes as you feel hands around your wrists and ankles, securing you into place. Privacy was a luxury you could only dream of now, it was long forgotten and something that was never introduced into this unit. 

“What’s my mission, Sir?” You question again as the ties are secured and the men stand in front of the door, their guns already loaded and waiting to be fired if required.

You watch as images flash in front of your eyes, a dozen people that you recognise in New York city. “They’re planning an attack on us, on this unit.” The superior explains as he paces around you, watching closely for any sign of sorrow. “They will steal everything we’ve worked for and burn us to the ground.” He scoffs. “Not that they’ll get that far.” 

“Where do I come into this, Sir?” You look up at him, blinking the projection away as a smirk form across his lips.

He bends down, resting his hand on your thigh and squeezes it forcefully. “Your job is to defeat them, protect us as a family.” You can feel his nails digging into your skin, drawing blood. “You’ll do that, won’t you, soldier?” 

You nod in response, knowing you have no choice out of this. “Yes, Sir.” You tell him, keeping a straight face as you ignore the tears welling up in your eyes. 

Once, a long time ago you knew the Avengers. You admired them and what they did for Earth and those who lived on it. But then you watched them tear apart Sokovia, the damage caused. You watched everyone you knew disappear, pools of blood soak snow as you stood and pinpointed those you cared about, dead. 

When HYDRA found you, they knew something about you was special. They told you to trust them, and as a young adolescent, you had no reason to not comply. That was your biggest mistake, you should’ve noticed the soldiers holding guns ready to shoot if you tried to run. You never had a choice in the matter. 

From the moment they laid their eyes on you, you belonged to them. 

“Good.” He states as he rises back to his feet. “Just to be sure, Doc?” He waves the Doctor over as you turn your head, seeing him holding the mouth guard. 

“Wait, please,” You begin to panic as you try to fight against the restraints, but they’ve learnt from last time. “you don’t have to do it, I, I’ll comply. I promise!” You try to reassure them, but the superior shakes his head.

“We just have to know, Soldier. This is the only way.” He smiles to you sweetly as he reaches out, resting his hand on your cheek.

You spit in his face, watching as he harshly steps back. “Full power.” He yells to the Doctor who forces the guard into your mouth as you fight back tears. “There’s no coming back now, Soldier. Good luck.” He turns on his heels and the guards part from the doorway as you watch him leave. 

Cool metal rests against your forehead as you look at the Doctor. “I’m sorry, dear.” He mutters to you as he shuts his eyes, pulling the level as you scream. 

*

Securing your gun to your side and knife into the sheath you were ready. 

“You know the plan, right?” You feel someone tug on your uniform, tightening your belt around your waist. 

“Yes. Do you?” You retort, looking over to your accomplice with a sinister smile as he secures his helmet. “They’ll be here any minute,” A laugh escapes your lips as you take a deep breath before walking out onto the roof. 

“Won’t know what’s hit ‘em, will they kid?” Simon turns to you, watching as you shake your head in anticipation. “Come on, we better get into position.” 

Lying on your stomach, you hide behind the edge of the main unit. Closing your eyes, you listen out for the sound of footsteps and muttered commands.  “Two left, three to the back.” You listen to a voice instruct and turn to Simon, giving him the signal.

“Be safe, kid.” He tells you as he stands on the edge of the roof, jumping down as he rope around his waist eases him to the ground. 

You rise to your feet as you watch Simon trying to fight against three of the Avengers. Your eyes follow their movements, memorising their basic combat training and main stances. “Too easy,” You mutter under your breath as you build energy into the palm of your hands, watching the trees beginning to shake.

“What the hell?” Steve yells as more soldiers walk out from the unit, firing guns.  “Just keep going, try and get inside Cap.” Tony calls out as Natasha tackles several soldiers whilst Bruce throws multiple at once. 

Tony rises from the ground and flies forward, unaware of the tree being lifted from its roots and being thrown in his direction. 

“Tony, watch out!” He turns just in time to avoid the tree as it crashes beneath you. 

“Damn.” You sigh as you lift three trees up at once, focusing on them as you hover them above Captain America, Scarlett Witch and Black Widow.  Just as you go to drop them, you’re tackled off of your feet to the ground. 

“What’re you doing?” Iron Man yells at you, trapping you beneath him until you punch his shoulder, sending him flying back. As Tony hovers in the air, disbelief crosses his face as you stand up, brushing gravel from your clothes. “That, that’s not possible.” He states as you run at full speed and jump from the building with nothing to hold you back. 

Landing on the ground, you watch as soldiers part for you to walk through. 

“They’ve got a weapon oncoming guys.” Tony announces, watching as you pass through, taking a gun and firing it. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” He mutters to himself as he flies over, firing down at HYDRA soldiers. 

The Avengers continue to dodge your bullets and Natasha runs toward you. 

As you fight her, she struggles to keep up. “You’re a kid?” She questions as you smile sweetly before punching her square in the face, knocking her unconscious with your sheer force.

Quickly you weave through their defence systems and attacks. You might be outnumbered, but they’re underestimating your potential.

“Kid, give up. You don’t wanna do this.” Steve stands in front of you as blood covers his face. 

You wipe away the blood that coats your lips as you hold your fists up. “Trust me,” You start, squaring him up once again. “there’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” 

Steve can feel himself losing momentum and looks around for a split second, noticing Natasha in Bruce’s arms as he runs back toward the Quinjet. Wanda is trapped by three trees as Vision fights off anyone who comes near her and Tony is above firing down on the soldiers surrounding them all. 

Holding your gun in front of Steve, you watch as he lowers his shield. “You giving up, Captain?” You raise an eyebrow as he pants heavily. 

“No,” He tells you, securing his shield as you both remain still. “I just have to ask, why are you doing this?” 

Steve watches as your hand twitches. He can see you fighting with yourself as your eyes remain focused on the gun, but your hand wants to lower it. 

“I have no choice, Captain.” You admit sadly, a glimpse of yourself fighting through. “They’ll torture me and kill me eventually if I give up.” You tell him, and for a split second, Steve can see Bucky in you. 

“I have a friend like you,” Steve steps closer cautiously, keeping his eyes on you but occasionally glancing to the gun. “he was HYDRA’s weapon, so I understand that you feel like there isn’t a way out. But I promise you, there’s a way out.” He explains, resting his hand on your gun. 

Your eyes plead to be saved, but your hand remains tightly locked around the gun. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble as you pull the trigger, watching blood seep through the blue on his shoulder as he falls back. 

His shield falls to the ground, and you lower your gun. “It’s done.” You tell yourself as you close your eyes, stopping the tears from returning. 

“You’re just a kid,” Tony lands behind you as you quickly turn, holding your gun back up as your trembles return. “let me help you.” He states and you shake your head.

“Why should I trust you? I’m safe here, I, I’m home.” You try to hide the fear in your tone as the soldier's retreat, leaving you alone on the field as your mess is left for the superior to review. 

“This isn’t a home,” Tony states, motioning around you. “this isn’t somewhere you should be kept. We can help you, stop them from using you in this way.” 

“I can’t. If I try they’ll kill me.” You tell him. “The last person who tried to escape didn’t make it to the gates. He was hung there for weeks to serve as a reminder.” What you didn’t mention was how you had been at HYDRA for a month at that point, a twelve-year-old exposed to the true horrors they held. 

“They didn’t have the Avengers to help them though, did they?” He retorts as he removes his mask, revealing a kind face. “Let us save you, we can stop them from getting into there.” He points to your head. 

“How do you know it’ll stop?” You question, desperation in your tone as you wish for freedom more than anything. “How do I know you won’t just kill me? I’m HYDRA after all.” 

“You deserve a chance.” Tony tells you, his eyes focusing on you closely. “If you can release my friends, I promise to get you out of here alive.” 

You sigh to yourself as you look over to see the trees still crushing Scarlett Witch. “I thought she could’ve gotten herself out.” You mutter under your breath before forcing the trees up. 

“Are you alright, Wanda?” Vision helps Wanda to her feet as she stumbles over her footing. 

Holding onto Vision tightly, she looks over to you with fury in her eyes. “Don’t, Wanda.” Tony states. “She means no harm.” 

“She’s HYDRA, of course she means harm.” Wanda bitterly retorts. 

“I’m sorry,” You call out, lowering your gun to the ground and holding your hands up. “I, I had no choice.” 

Wanda can see your whole body shaking as Tony looks back at you. “Were you in that room?” She questions, walking closer toward you as Vision closely follows. “With that Doctor?” 

Flashes of the events run through your mind as you nod. “Daily.” You tell her and her heart breaks for you. 

“It’s okay,” She tells you, resting her arm around you. “you’ll be safe.” 

“We better go before more come back.” Vision states as he takes Wanda, flying off with her as Tony helps you and Steve. 

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” You motion to the unconscious soldier in Tony’s arms as you fly alongside him. 

“That’s like having a papercut, kid.” Tony jokes, watching as you finally crack a smile. “We just need to make sure you’ll be alright.” 

“Thank you,” You mutter as you reach the Quinjet, looking up at it before glancing back at the gates now behind you. “and I, I’m Y/n.” 

Tony smiles softly to you as he steps aboard the Quinjet, waiting for you to follow. “Come on, then Y/n. A new life is just ahead.”

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#avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #avengers oneshot #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers headcanon #avengers series #avengers writing #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel oneshot #marvel fluff #marvel angst #marvel x reader #marvel writing #marvel headcanon #avengers au #avengers au x reader #avengers x reader au #au #au imagine #avengers au imagine #avengers au imagines

[marvelvsmarvel]

Cap’s Super Power

After analyzing the fight scenes between Cap and Bucky I started to think about what we know about Cap as a fighter and seeing his actual progression in the MCU and how this speaks to being a super soldier not only physically but tactically and strategically.

First Avenger: It’s the Superman fighting where he’s literally physically superior than everyone that he really only needs to swing or kick to win a fight. He still uses a gun and uses the shield in the most basic way as protection or a frisbee. Learns at minimum that the shield can absorb bullet damage completely when fired directly.

Versus Red Skull: Kinda the same example of his fights with Bucky. Cap was used to easy wins that when he first hits Skull and he takes the blow it’s terribly shocking. Skull is only not as surprised because he understands the capabilities of their abilities. Their fight isn’t as crazy in a technical manner again as fighting styles back between American and Germany wasn’t so broad from boxing + street fighting but again when you’re used to winning most fights with a punch or kick someone who can actually take the blows makes a match and in the end it ultimately was a draw.

Avengers: There’s the moment when he first hits Loki and he barely moves and Cap realizes “oh crap he really might be a god”. Cap’s insufferable yet utterly amazing willpower and ability to learn and adapt and strategize in combat and warfare are verily considered a part of his super powers or abilities. We see that for the first time here as he keeps at it against Loki and lasted against an army of aliens who are kicking his butt. Again when he went under he fought Nazis with wild tech and a super steroided Red Man Group member and then woke up to a demigod and aliens... in the future. His will power is insane! But his strategic mindset is in full display coordinating this advanced fighting group of individual abilities whom he only just met hours before against an army no one anticipated of unknown tech and weaponry. (He did research up on the Avengers members but more or less spark notes.) He also learned about the sonic blast that occurs between Thor’s hammer and his shield on the fly. All in all probably the most beaten up he’s ever been with or without serum and had a realization of the number of “I should be dead” moments that solidified how durable and strong he might actually be.

The Winter Soldier: After fighting an army of aliens and winning Cap looks to take it easy and routinely by hooking up with SHIELD to refine his abilities and knowledge on modern warfare and it shows. Primary difference is in his shield-wielding every which way from his turtle defense position to redirecting bullets to taking down a quinjet with only that shield. There’s obviously more psychological trauma in this one fighting his previously accepted as deceased bestfriend (and that never quite goes away) but also psychological in that it seems possible that this is the first time he’s been stabbed and shot by a bullet. Now I know he fought aliens but still he was never shot before. I point this out to show that post Avengers he had an idea of what he could do and how durable he could hold up in a fight but here I think he believed he was going to die in the final fight with Bucky.

Age of Ultron: Once again the strategy is on full display as the team works much more like a well oiled machine. (It is suggested that he was the one that trained them as a unit as well since he trains the new members at the end.) He and Thor use their weapons-combos in a few different ways.

Verse Ultron Bots: It is noticeable that Cap works their joints which seems like their most vulnerable spots but it also just neutralizes them. This is like Fighting 101 but it shows up later in more noticeable ways.

Civil War: Strategy again only with a fun wrinkle in which he trusts Wanda to literally toss him into a building. It’s understandable that on paper Team Cap had way less fire power and so the pregame strategy had to be key. There was a joke that Cap literally could’ve killed Peter when he dropped that container on him but I think that in the one on one fight between Spidey and Cap that he got a gage of his strength primarily when Peter webbed his arms into a tug-o-war situation.

Versus Iron Man: That Fighting 101 breakdown started with taking out the thrusters on one foot. Keep the combat close within his arm reach to avoid the hand repulsors and other long range weaponry which of course is a huge advantage to Iron Man. Again seems obvious and plus they’ve trained and fought together but he makes the cognitive effort when he charges Tony dead on with his shield. Attacking the neck area (joint) in rage he literally rips the helmet off (but that is a common opening for the suit). He takes out the arc reactor thus neutralizing the suit. (He did luck out with a strategic enclosed location...or did he pregame that as well...?)

Infinity War: The tactical aspect of fighting with foreign weapons without training such as the Wakandan gauntlets and Proxima Midnight’s spear is demonstrated. This is his second go at aliens only this time the army is a mindless horde. He’s a lot faster and stronger since Avengers and it shows.

Versus Thanos Round 1: It’s not a fight but there’s things to analyze. He charges in and doesn’t initially attack but slides under and behind. He strikes his knee (joint) and then uppercuts his chin. An uppercut to the chin is a classic knockout punch but it’s also practical being Thanos’s most exposed weak point and the height difference. He also gets to gage his strength in a game of mercy but Thanos hand vs all of Cap.

Endgame: That insufferable willpower...

Versus Thanos Round 2: There is the idea that Cap knew he was able to lift Thor’s hammer and with that came the understanding that he would “possess the power of Thor”. With a clear understanding of this he wields Mjolnir as if it was always his and calls lightning at will but first the breakdown. Throws the hammer to save Thor with dramatic effect. This time he attacks first with a Mjolnir uppercut that levels Thanos. Then the behind the back sneak attack by tossing the shield knowing it would be deflected and then throwing the hammer at it to create the sonic blast. A flying knee to the chest because he’s still bigger than him and stronger than him. So afterwards using the hammer and the shield he goes knee (joint) to uppercut again but now seeming to be on an even power scale with Mjolnir that 40’s Brooklyn back alley boxing mentality comes out attacking the head over and over again. Then he calls the lighting and literally give his best shot. Obviously Thanos turns up the heat and regains the advantage BUT if Cap was on par with strength and ability there’s no saying who wins that matchup.

Overall I just love the detail toward progressing Cap as a fighter. The super soldier serum was a one and done and it made what was good great but that didn’t just include him physically but mentality and spiritually as a good man and as a warrior.

#Steve Rogers #fighting #super powers #captain america #team cap #chris evans #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel studios #avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #avengers infinity war #infinity war #avengers age of ultron #age of ultron #captain america the first avenger #the first avenger #catfa #catws #the winter soldier #captain america civil war #civil war #cacw #spiderman #red skull #iron man #thanos #ultron

[lookalivefrosty]

Summertime

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (but, really, Winter Soldier Bucky x Female Reader)

Summary: Three days ago, the Winter Soldier walked away from Hydra. They’ve just sent you to bring him back.

Word Count: 7,656 words (!!!)

Warnings: a heavy helping of angst, descriptions of injuries and pain, canon typical violence. The reader is an enhanced human with the ability to manipulate pain. (Let me know if you come across any others I’ve missed, I’ll gladly add them!)

*Reblogs of course are welcome, but please do not repost this story to any other websites without my permission!!*

A/N: This was written for @jbbuckybarnes​‘s birthday writing challenge. Happy belated birthday, and thank you so much for reassuring me that it was okay to post this past the deadline! I didn’t mean for it to take this long, but the good news is, this is the first thing I’ve written and actually liked in about five or six years. So, yay? I really hope you and everyone else who reads it enjoys it! 

P.S: my prompts are bolded, the not too shabby moodboard was made by me, and the title of the fic and lyrics within said moodboard are courtesy of My Chemical Romance’s ‘Summertime.’ Oh, and, the totally awesome text divider seen just below (and several times throughout the fic) was created by @writeyourmindaway​ (thank you)!

EDITED ON 5/24/2021 - no major changes, only a change in spelling for two of the characters' names.

“You ever think of where you’d go if you got out of here?” you’d asked the Soldier once, the two of you hunkered down in a safe house somewhere in Alaska. It’s been so long since then that you can’t even remember what mission had brought you there - or maybe you should say, so much has happened since then that you can’t remember. 

He didn’t answer your question. He couldn’t. His programming limited his dialogue to giving orders to those ranked below him and answering the questions of those ranked higher. You’d been able to see his answer in his eyes, though, sitting there on the opposite side of the hallway from him, your faces illuminated by an oil lamp he’d found while sweeping the basement for any threats. 

They had narrowed slightly, his way of wordlessly saying, ‘No.’ 

No, because he never thought he would ever escape from Hydra; and neither did you, for that matter. But it was nice to think about, especially back then. Freedom.

“I can remember,” you’d said slowly, not missing the faint look of surprise that crossed  his usually stoic face at the words. You shouldn’t be able to remember anything that occurred before they wiped you the first time. But you remember this vividly, too vividly for it to be a mere fragment of your imagination. 

“I can remember,” you’d started again, “this place my parents and I used to go to along the Blue Ridge Parkway.” 

And then you’d told him about it. How after visiting a few tourist attractions you’d park the car at a lookout spot and stare out over the miles and miles of autumn colored trees in the valleys below, untouched by man aside from the randomly placed house. Far away from where you stood, blue tinted mountains pierced the overcast sky - and it was beautiful. 

He’d listened to every word you’d spoken intently, his gaze never straying from your face as you reminisced on happier times. And when you’d finished, he’d looked sad. You could feel the longing in his chest within your own, and see a sparkle in his stormy blue eyes that seemed to say, ‘I would take you there, if I could.’

And he has, hasn’t he?

Here you are, standing at the very same lookout you’d told him about that night. It’s warmer than you remember, greener, seeing as it’s summertime - but it’s no less beautiful. If you squint you can see ghosts of the past; two figures standing against the most breathtaking of backdrops, smiling with their arms around one another as you took their picture.

You miss them. 

Your parents. 

You wish you could remember more about them. 

About yourself. 

Your old life.

“Empat.” 

His voice startles you, but not because you didn’t know he was there. You’d felt his presence step within the reach of your powers almost twenty minutes ago; had known it was him because you know his aches and pains as well as you know your own. The phantom pain where his left arm used to be, the carpal tunnel syndrome in his right wrist and hand from years of holding a gun, and all the other wear and tear seventy years of assassination work has put on his still visibly young body. New to the roster, though, is the break in his right forearm - no doubt an injury gained during his fight in D.C. three days ago. A fight you’d been sidelined for, but should have been battling alongside him. 

If you had been, that break wouldn’t be there. You’re certain of that.

You could only do so much with the amount of distance between you, but because you care, because you wanted him to know that you knew he was there, you’d cast your healing warmth over the fracture, numbing it until you could touch him and heal it completely. As thanks, he’d given you this time with your memories. Time before the inevitable had to happen.

But time is up now, and he’s standing right behind you, his voice startling you not because it’s unexpected but because he’s never been able to call you anything, let alone the name Hydra had given you. Empat, meaning Empath. His programming simply didn’t allow for it. To hear his voice say it now - after months and years of knowing each other, fighting alongside each other, nearly dying for each other -  well, it’s quite a shock to the system.

Three days, you think. It’s only been three days since he walked away from the Triskelion wreckage, walked away from Hydra, and already he’s regained the ability to speak autonomously. And here you are, sent here to drag him back to the very same people who stripped him of his ability to do so in the first place. 

You, because they know that in spite of their best efforts to keep him as emotionless and empty as possible, he feels something for you. Because if it’s you asking him to, he might come back willingly, without a fight. Because if it comes to a fight he’ll hesitate before killing you, and give you the opening you need to-

“Empat,” he says again, interrupting your internal ramblings. The sound of it threatens to bring tears to your eyes.

You don’t want to do this.

But you have no other choice. 

“Hi, Soldier,” you greet him gently, and he takes that as his cue to move to stand at your side. He places himself on your left and it’s such a familiar position: you and the Soldier shoulder to shoulder, against the world. Normally it would bring you comfort; but today, it just makes you sad. 

As if he can sense it - which he probably can; he has a knack for reading people - the Soldier brushes the back of his hand against the back of yours in a silent offer of comfort. You turn your wrist and intertwine your fingers with his without a second thought, and together you gaze out over the mountain range, silence hanging thick in the air between you for what feels like a lifetime. 

And then, “Is it what you remember?”

So you were right. The red star on the tracking device had stopped in this town with a familiar name yesterday not by coincidence, but on purpose. He’d traveled west, deep into the peaks and valleys of the Blue Ridge Mountain range just so he could bring you here, to the location of your only remaining memory. 

It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you - that you can remember, at least - and, God, do you want to cry. 

“Yes,” your voice and your smile is strained, “Thank you.”

He squeezes your hand tighter in response, causing a bolt of pain to shoot up towards his shoulder and down to the tips of his fingers - but he shows no signs of feeling it when you glance in his direction. He was trained to suffer in silence; if you weren’t, well, you, you wouldn’t have the slightest clue that he was in any pain at all. 

“Your arm?” you inquire, turning your head to face him at the same moment he turns to face you. It’s only then that you realize what he’s wearing: a black baseball cap pulled down over his brunette tresses, a dark denim jacket over a black t-shirt, blue jeans and his usual pair of boots. The shoes are the only part of his attire that you recognize, but you have to admit, this casual look he’s got going on… 

You like it.

“Steve,” he tells you, as if you know who Steve is. You raise your brows. “The guy on the bridge,” he amends. “Captain...Captain America.”

Right. The target Hydra had sent the Soldier to kill not once, but twice - an anomaly, as he usually gets the job done on the first try. You’d been as shocked as your superiors when he came back from the fight on the bridge to report the mission as failed - but more so due to the foul mix of emotions churning within him than the failed mission itself.

 It was astonishing to see him in such anguish so openly; to feel the full force of his normally repressed guilt, anger and sadness. You’ve gotten glimpses of it in the past, during those precious few minutes between him being awoken and being wiped. But only one other time had you seen him so distraught, which could only mean one thing.

The target - this Steve, whoever he is - had somehow broken through decades of wipings and programming to free the man Hydra had tried so hard to keep contained, and every sour emotion he’s felt while locked in his cage - though only for a moment before Alexander Pierce ordered him to be shoved behind the bars again.

It’s not easily done; liberating the man that lingers beneath the surface of the Soldier.

You would know.

You’ve done it before.

“You knew him,” you say simply, recalling the trembling words he’d spoken that day. Words that, when combined with the look on his face and what had happened after he’d uttered them, had shattered your already broken heart into even smaller shards.

“But I knew him.”

“I don’t know,” the Soldier replies eventually, and he’s lying - to you and himself. 

But that’s okay.

You assure him as much with a small smile.

“Here,” you change the subject, “let me…” you turn your body towards him and bring your right hand up to cup the back of his, which still clings to your left one, as he turns to face you as well. You close your eyes and focus on the break, casting your warmth over it and holding it steady as it guides his bones back into place. As it does, your body takes his pain and converts it into ammunition, adding it to what’s already been piled high within you thanks to the metal choker around your neck. 

Hydra’s scientists had designed it especially for you; a necklace that would, whenever your handlers deemed it necessary, electrically shock you continuously so you would have to be constantly taking your own pain away. Whenever you use your healing abilities - regardless of whether you’re using them on yourself or someone else - your body absorbs the pain and stores it within until you either unleash it on someone or your handlers shut the necklace off and the power coursing through your veins is allowed to dwindle away on its own.

It flows through you now, but you’re so used to the uncomfortable prickling feeling that accompanies it at this point that you hardly even notice it’s there anymore.

How sad that is.

“Thank you,” the Soldier says after you’ve finished healing him and open your eyes again. That’s another first: the Soldier thanking you aloud instead of with his eyes and soft, secret touches. If it weren’t for the current circumstances, it would have brought you joy.

 “Don’t thank me,” you beg with a rapid shake of your head. “Not when you know what I’ve been sent here to do.”

“Empat, it’s okay-” 

“No,” you interject harshly, dropping his hand and retreating a few steps backwards. “It’s not okay, Soldier. It’s not. Because you knew,” your smile is sardonic as you point a finger in his direction. “You knew they’d send someone - that they’d send me - after you. You knew what they’d make me do to bring you back. So why, Soldier? Why didn’t you cut the tracker out? You could have been free,” your voice cracks on the last word, and you feel his chest ache in response.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before dropping his focus to the grass between his boots. You stand there, blinking tears from your eyes and waiting for him to say something - anything - in defense of himself, but he doesn’t say a word. 

He’s maddeningly silent.

“Why would you do this?” you demand again, your voice frail in spite of the anger rising inside of you. The Soldier is slow to raise his gaze back to yours, and even slower to give you an answer.

“‘Cause I wanted to.”

It hits you like a punch from his left fist, and you find yourself unable to speak.

He... He wanted this? He wanted you to be sent after him? To potentially have to fight him, to have to drag him back to the people you’ve always told him you wished you could help him escape from?

“Listen,” he urges, seeing the look of hurt and betrayal that’s overtaken your features. He’s lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture, and his left one catches your attention, as it’s donning a black winter glove. Where did he even find one of those this time of year? “I did it because I didn’t know how else to find you. I went back to the bank after...after the fight, and everyone was already gone. You were gone, and I had no way of knowing where you were but I knew that if I left the tracker in, it wouldn’t be long before they sent you after me. It...It was the only way I had to be able to see you again,” he finishes with a sad, tearful smile, the same one he’d given Alexander Pierce that night after his first encounter with Steve. 

It pulls at your heart now just as it did then, but at the same time -

“You could have been free,” you echo your earlier words, sounding every bit as devastated as you feel. Your tears make the Soldier a blur as he steps closer to you, raising his hands to tentatively cup the sides of your face. You blink and a pair of them slip down your cheeks only to be quickly smeared away by his thumbs, gloved metal and bare flesh alike.

“I don’t want to be free if you’re not free with me,” he tells you softly, and you see those words for what they are: a testament of his love for you. It’s the first time he’s been able to voice such a thing, and you want to find joy or at the very least solace in it. Truly, you do. But right now, with the situation at hand, knowing he’s tossed away the only chance at liberation he’s had in seven decades all because he didn’t want to leave you behind, you can’t. 

You just feel guilty. So incredibly, debilitatingly guilty.

“I’ll never be free of them,” you state grimly, pulling out of his hold and putting some distance between you. “As long as this necklace is around my neck, I’m stuck. They’ll ramp it up as soon as I get too far for their likings and kill me. But you - you had a chance. And you threw it away because of me,” you practically choke out the last word. You pause for a few moments to collect yourself before continuing to speak, your eyes fluttering shut to send another pair of tears down your cheeks.

“I’m begging you, Soldier. If you love me, cut the tracker out and leave. I’ll tell them you beat me unconscious before I could move to apprehend you, or… I don’t know. Something. Just please don’t make me take you back there. Don’t make me the reason you go back there, I…” your throat gets too tight for you to speak any further, so you open your eyes and try to communicate with him through them, as he used to you.

I won’t be able to live with myself if you do.

He lets your unspoken words hang between you for exactly seventeen shaking breaths, and when he goes to speak, he looks apologetic, telling you he’s not going to change his mind even before he confirms it aloud. 

“You know I never get to choose what I want for myself,” he says, a pleading tone to his voice. His eyes are equally as imploring as they stare into yours, trying to get you to see just how much he needs you to do this for him. “I want this, Empat. I do. So, please, for once in my life - let me have what I want.”

…How are you supposed to say no to that?

The answer is simple: 

You don’t.

“Alright,” you sound as defeated as you feel. “Alright.”

The corners of his lips twitch upwards, but the glossiness of his eyes conveys what you feel twisting inside of him. The fear. The sadness. The anger.

He reaches out, asking for your hands, and you unfold your arms to give them to him, biting back a sob as he intertwines his fingers through yours.

“Whatever you have to do,” he says slowly, “Do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply to gather what little strength and courage you have left in you; then, you breath out a single word:

“Sputnik.” 

A moment later, the Soldier collapses at your feet.

…

...

You couldn’t do it.

You’d told him you would, and had fully intended on honoring his wishes - but it was one hour into the three hour drive back to the safe house your handlers were waiting for you within that you realized you just couldn’t. You couldn’t take him back to the people who have been holding him hostage for over seventy years, doom him to another who knows how many more  years of brainwashing and torture. You couldn’t, and you wouldn’t.

So you turned the car around, much to the displeasure of your handlers. The wattage of your necklace shot up almost immediately after you’d made the u-turn, and you’d almost driven into the guard rails due to the sudden onslaught of pain. You’d quickly smothered it, though, and righted the vehicle on the road, backtracking until you reached the abandoned house you’d spotted only a few minutes prior in the drive.

It had caught your eye because of its reminiscence of that safe house back in Alaska. It’s a small and barely standing home made of deteriorating wood, its front door hanging by a single hinge. Upon entering it you’d found it had the same damp, moldy atmosphere, and a similar, familiar layout - a ground level with two bedrooms and a bathroom, a living room and kitchen area, and a basement. Its windows were shattered, parts of the wood flooring were either caved in or missing altogether, and you’d even found an oil lamp while you were scoping out the basement. 

Talk about déjà vu.

As for getting the Soldier into the house, it was as much of a struggle as it’d been to get him into the car your handlers had sent you out in. Somehow, though, you’d managed, and had tied him to a weathered dining chair that had squeakily threatened to collapse under his weight when you’d dropped him into it. 

What had happened after that is nothing more than a blur of blood and tears, right up until you’d collapsed into an identical chair in front of a boarded up window, staring as if you could see right through the planks to whatever lies beyond.

You don’t know how much time has passed since then, but you haven’t moved since you’d sat down. You’ve barely even breathed.

There’s a pounding in your head from previously shed tears and there’s dried blood on your hands, your clothes. You’re shaking so badly you don’t know how you haven’t vibrated right off of the chair and into a clump on the floor.

He hasn’t woken up yet. You’re starting to worry he may never - that there’s another code word that has to be used to wake the Soldier after he’s been shut down by ‘sputnik.’ 

Wouldn’t that be just your luck? To do everything that you’ve done in the time since he’s been unconscious just for it all to be futile because-

A soft groan sounds from behind you, and you hold your breath.

Did you actually hear that? Or did you-

“Empat?” he rasps, a confused lilt to his voice. You almost start crying again at the sound of it. 

He’s awake. 

Everything you’ve done isn’t for nothing, after all.

“I’m here,” you get to your feet and move towards him slowly. Taking in his disoriented expression, you ask, “How do you feel?” 

You being you, of course, you already know how he’s feeling; he’s got a headache similar to your own and he’s discombobulated, stiff and sore. Still, you ask him - not only because it’s nice to do so but because you want to hear it out of his own mouth.

However, instead of answering your question, he raises one of his own. “Why are you covered in blood?”

You stop right in front of him, shaking your head. 

“It’s not mine,” is all you offer, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face since he can’t do it for himself. You then trail your fingers down the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut briefly in response to the gentle touch before he seemingly forces them open again, assessing you with his stormy blues.  

“Where are we?” he asks. You freeze in your movement.

“Hour away from where we were,” you supply. He ponders that for a few moments, tearing his eyes from you to take in what he can of the room before meeting your gaze again.

“Are they coming to extract us?”

You drop your gaze.

“Empat,” his tone is low; dangerous - the closest it’s been to the one he uses while giving orders on missions this entire time. You turn away from him and clasp your trembling hands together.

Every so often your handlers have been knocking up the voltage of your necklace to tell you to hurry up and get you and the Soldier back to the safe house. You’ve been having to use more and more of your powers to keep yourself from feeling it, from being harmed by it, and it’s drained you more than you’re willing to admit. 

You don’t know how much longer you can fight against it. You need to get moving before they ramp it up beyond the reach of your powers and kill you, which they’d very clearly told you they would if you failed them.

You’ve only hung around this long waiting for the Soldier to wake up to make sure that he would wake up; you didn’t want to leave him behind without knowing for a fact that he was going to be okay. 

But he’s awake now, and really there’s no reason for you to be here anymore... Yet, you can’t bring yourself to move any further away.

“Empat,” the Soldier calls for you again, this time more desperate. “What did you do?”

You close your eyes. 

He’s going to be so upset with you over this.

But perhaps that will make it easier for him to move on.

“I cut the tracker out,” you inform him, hearing him inhale sharply in response. “I…Understand why you didn’t do it yourself. I’d do the same thing, to see you one last time - but you know that if our roles were reversed you would refuse to take me back to them. So you shouldn’t expect me to,” you face him again, letting him see the tears that started running down your cheeks as you were speaking. 

He looks as devastated as you feel.

Biting back a sob, you walk back up to him and cup the sides of his face, as he had yours earlier, and lean down to rest your forehead against his. You remain in that position for only a moment before pulling away enough to peer into his tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry I have to be another person keeping you from what you want,” you brush your thumbs over his cheekbones, “but I can’t do this to you. You’ve been with them so much longer than I have, Soldier; you’ve been through so much - too much. You deserve to be free, to live. And you’ve got a chance,” you smile at him sadly. “I can’t take that from you.”

Those words appear to be what takes him over the edge, as with his next blink, the Soldier’s tears spill over. They run down his stubble covered cheeks and quickly find themselves wiped away by your waiting thumbs.

“They’ll kill you if you show up without me,” he chokes out. And he’s right. You know he is. But,

“You would do it for me.”

You have him there, it seems - because he has nothing to say to contradict your statement. You nod, for no particular reason, and press your lips to his forehead; your silent I love you, your wordless goodbye.

You pull away from him with the intentions of leaving, but before you can even straighten your spine he says, “Y/N.”

You freeze.

That name…

You pull further back and meet his gaze.

“What?” 

“Y/N,” he says again. “That’s your name. Your real name.”

Your breathing hitches.

You don’t know how, but you know he’s right. You can feel it. 

“How-” 

“You told me,” he answers your unfinished question. “When we first met, before they wiped you that first time - no one told you I couldn’t talk and you - you introduced yourself to me. You were terrified of me, I could tell - but you still stuck your hand out and told me your name. I couldn’t,” he pauses to gather himself, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I couldn’t have told you my name even if I could have remembered it, but I put my hand in yours, and you smiled at me. Do you know how long it’d been since someone had smiled at me? Without any malice behind it?” he leans forward against his binds, baring his wet eyes into yours. 

You don’t say anything. You’re completely and utterly speechless, staring at him with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip. You drop your hands from his face and take a step back, absorbing every single word he has to to tell you.

“They wipe me to make me forget, but I never forgot that moment, Y/N, no matter how many times they did it. I never forgot your name even though my own was long gone.” The Soldier presses on, “I don’t know why, but I feel like it was for a reason. Like I was supposed to be the one to remind you what it was - to help you remember who you were. But I can’t do that if you’re...If you…” 

He doesn’t finish, but it’s not hard for you to figure out what he was going to say.

I can’t do that if you’re dead.

“I don’t know what you think I can do,” you force the words out around the lump in your throat, “I die if I go back without you. They’ll kill me if I stay with you - either way, I’m dead. There’s nothing we can do-”

“Yes there is,” he insists, desperate. “We can go there - we can fight them-”

“And they’ll kill me as soon as they realize what’s happening,” you dismiss the suggestion, “right in front of you. I don’t… Want you to have to watch me die, Soldier. I don’t want you to have to carry that around with you for the rest of your life - can’t you understand that?”

“Untie me then. Let me try and get that thing off of you-”

“What?!” you take a step back as if he’s struck you. “Are you insane?! You’ll get electrocuted if you touch it!”

“Not if you protect me from it,” he counteracts. You shake your head and go to protest against the idea, but he starts talking again before you can. “Don’t you remember the day you realized what you could do? What you could really do?”

Of course you do. That’s another memory Hydra couldn’t rip away from you no matter how hard they tried: the day you found out the true extent of what powers Loki’s scepter had bestowed upon you. The day that you were promoted from the Winter Soldier’s nurse to his partner in crime - literally.

Seeing the look of recognition in your eyes, the Soldier latches onto it. “You can do it again. I know you can.”

“Your arm,” you point out. “It’ll conduct the electricity - send it straight towards your heart. And I don’t know if what I can do is enough to protect you from the damage that would cause.”

His face falls. 

Clearly, he hadn’t thought of that. 

He parts his lips to make another argument but before he can get a single word out the wattage of your necklace suddenly increases again, making you cry out and fall to your knees. You just barely manage to smother the pain this time; if they turn it up any higher, you’re not sure you’ll be able to.

“I knew you couldn’t do it,” a voice taunts in Russian from somewhere behind you. Recognizing it, you lift a hand in the general direction it came from and feel the power coursing through your veins gather in the palm of your hand before a cloud of black smoke erupts from it. The man lets out a scream of pure agony a moment later before hitting the weathered floorboards, dead. You look over your shoulder and take in the lifeless form of the handler before turning back to the Soldier, wide eyed.

“Untie me now,” he orders, and you know better than to argue with him.

As Hydra’s motto claims, ‘Cut off one head, two more will take its place.’

You’re gonna need his help.

So you scramble to your feet and round the chair he’s tied to, unsheathing the knife strapped to your thigh. It’s not easy to cut through the rope, which had been specially designed to restrain the Soldier, but it’s not impossible, either. You have him free before long and he puts his hand out for the blade, which you hand over without even thinking just in time for two more figures to step through the doorway.

“Sput-” the handler who had been just a syllable away from shutting down the Soldier again gets cut off by the knife you’d given him embedding itself in his chest. A cloud of black smoke engulfs him a moment later and he chokes on it for a moment before collapsing just as the first had.

Next, gun shots ring out. If any bullets hit you, you don’t feel them - all you can feel is the power in your shaking hands, the slight ease of its pressure as more of it is released onto the third Hydra agent. She does little more than gasp before her eyes roll back in her head and she lands on top of her comrade.

The Soldier surges forward, scavenging the closest body for any weapons. He finds a gun just in time to get a head shot on a fourth agent.

“We need to get out of here,” he states the obvious, taking a shot at a fifth one. 

He doesn’t miss.

You clench and unclench your hands, the power surging within them making it impossible for you not to fidget. “My tracker’s still in, they’ll just follow us,” you remind him, “and the necklace-”

“Search them for the remote,” he meets your eyes briefly over his shoulder. “Someone here has to have it.”

You nod and kneel beside the body he’d taken the gun from. You rummage through the handler’s pockets, coming up short on finding the device that would free you from the necklace. From Hydra. 

It’s unreal to you that this is even happening right now; you never thought you would ever have even a chance at freedom, but now -

As if it’s punishing you for even thinking about escaping, the wattage of your necklace suddenly spikes. And as you’d predicted, this time you can’t completely cover the pain it’s inflicting on you - it’s too strong, hurts too much. 

You scream and fall sideways, clawing futilely at the electrified metal around your neck. For several long, agonizing moments, all there is is pain, pain, pain - and then, suddenly, it’s gone. 

You think at first you’re dead; in fact, you’re certain of it. But then a hand taps on your cheek and you open your eyes - when had you even closed them? - and see the Soldier’s face hovering over your own. It melts with relief and he says something to you, but you can’t hear whatever it is over the ringing in your ears. 

You’d tell him that, if you weren’t so dazed.

After some time the Soldier gives up on getting a response out of you and helps you to sit up, watching you closely afterwards, presumably looking for any signs that you’re going to pass out. You don’t, though your head does swim, and find yourself blinking rapidly trying to get your eyes to focus. They land on the doorway when they do, where a familiar man stands holding a familiar object, the sight enough to make your blood run cold.

Having noticed the shift in your demeanor, the Soldier follows your line of sight, tensing just as you had when he realizes what you’re looking at.

The ringing in your ears fades away just in time for Talon, the highest ranking of the handlers, to speak. 

“Drop the gun, Soldat,” he commands, shaking the hand holding the remote to your necklace pointedly. “Or watch your precious little empath die.”

The Soldier swallows thickly. Then, he obeys, the gun clattering onto the wood floor just beyond your reach. 

“As I thought,” Talon muses, his smile anything but friendly as he approaches you and the Soldier at a slow pace. His eyes are fixated on the latter, but his thumb hovering over the red button on the remote is enough of a deterrent to keep you from trying anything.

You don’t refrain from openly glaring at him, though.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe, hm?” Talon inquires coolly, his lips falling into their natural frown. “First chance at freedom in almost seventy years... And you toss it away for a girl you’ve known for two,” he holds up two fingers on his free hand for emphasis, and you flinch. Even though they’re the same words you've been telling yourself this entire time, they somehow sound even worse coming from someone else’s mouth. 

The handler doesn't show it outwardly, but he notices how his statement hits a nerve. You know this because, for a moment, his irritation gives way to amusement; he can tell you're feeling guilty, and he's enjoying it.

Bastard.

Talon comes to a stop a few feet away from where you and the Soldier are sat. His eyes, their irises the color of green peridot, flicker back and forth between the two of you a few times before he seethes, “She makes you weak.”

The Soldier tightens his arm around you, and you can feel the anxiety rising within him; the anger. You want to spare a glance in his direction but opt to keep your gaze fixated on Talon, afraid of what he might do if you were to be momentarily distracted.

“It’s pathetic,” the handler goes on, “and if we didn’t need her help to sort out the mess your failure-” he jabs an accusing finger at the Soldier “-created, I would have you kill her. Slowly and painfully, to punish you both.

"I should regardless, considering what she was about to do,” he moves his focus onto you, now. “You should count yourself very lucky, Empat, and pray that I still find you useful when all this is said and done.”

Your glare turns deadly at the threat. In response, Talon hits a button - not the red one - to make your necklace come to life, albeit on a much lower setting than it’d been on before. 

It’s a warning more than anything, but it still hurts.

“Yes, you will both be punished harshly for your recent acts of disobedience - eventually,” Talon states, tossing the remote into the air and catching it, quite literally playing with your life. “There’s simply no time for it now, as we leave for Sokovia tonight, per von Strucker’s request. He’s made a call for all of his creations to return and help defend their birthplace,” he stuffs the hand holding the device into his pocket and seems to consider you before adding, “He’s very interested in seeing how your powers have developed since he’s last seen you, Empat.”

Unease claws its way down your spine at the words, and though you’re not sure why - you trust it. You may not consciously remember von Strucker, but there’s a girl locked away in your mind who does; who’s warning you that he’s no one you’ll want to see ever again. 

You trust her.

Talon sighs exaggeratedly, having seemingly grown bored of this one-sided conversation he’s been having with the two of you. 

“Get her up, Soldat; we must get going,” he commands. You feel your heart lurch, and finally tear your gaze from the handler to look at the man who’s yet to let you go. 

There’s a look of calculation on his face; the one he bears whenever a mission goes wrong and he has to come up with a new plan on the spot. What could he possibly-

“My name,” the Soldier snarls through gritted teeth, glaring up at the other man with pure hatred swirling in his chest. “Is James, Buchanan, Barnes. Not Soldat, not Asset - James. Bucky.”

You gasp silently in response to what he’s just revealed, and place your hand over that of his that rests on your waist, squeezing it tightly. Right now is the most inappropriate of times to feel happy, but you are, because the Soldier, your Soldier, he has a name. Well, he’s always had one - but now he remembers it; now you know it. You know his name and you know your own - your first one, at least - and, wow. You have names. Real, genuine names and it feels so surreal, so right, even if you are currently standing on the verge of losing them again.

“I gave you an order, Soldat,” Talon emphasizes the title pointedly, and you whirl back onto him with a glare even more murderous than the first had been. “And I expect you to follow that order, or I’ll-”

In your peripheral vision, you see the Soldier - James, you remind yourself - pull out a gun and line up a shot with expert ease. You barely register the action before he’s pulling the trigger and an ear piercing bang echoes throughout the abandoned house.

The bullet hits its mark, of course - a fatal head shot. 

Talon’s body falls towards the ground and when it makes impact, whether his hand was just carrying out his last request or your luck is just that bad and he happened to land on it, the red button on the remote gets pressed. 

The wattage of your necklace spikes, and it’s the most excruciating and unbearable pain you’ve ever felt. Your lips part to scream but the cry doesn’t even get a chance to escape before you succumb to the pain being inflicted upon you, your world going dark.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And then…

And then there’s light.

Not a heavenly, bright light, but a dim, golden glow. 

You blink against it a few times, trying to focus your vision, all the while casting your healing warmth over the pain in your head. The world around you finally aligns and you realize that you’re in a car, sprawled across the back seat with your head lying on top of a rolled up denim jacket.

Your last few moments of consciousness return to you as the headache is successfully smothered to nothing, and immediately your hand shoots up to grasp at your neck - the action sending a jolt of pain through your arm.

Brows furrowing, you withdraw the limb and bring it to eye level, finding a bandage wrapped tightly just below your elbow. You bring your other hand up and pull the bandage down carefully, revealing a stitched up wound right where Hydra’s scientists had implanted a small tracking device beneath your skin seemingly so long ago.

The implications the sight brings forth make your heart stutter.

Slowly, almost afraid of what you’ll find, you lower your hand back towards your neck -

Finding nothing there. 

And the fact that your necklace is gone is your second indication that something huge happened while you were unconscious, as the only time your handlers ever take it off of you is when you’re off mission and locked away in a cell. Gingerly, you rub at the scarred skin where it usually rests, putting the few pieces you’ve gathered so far together. 

Your tracker has presumably been cut out, your necklace is gone, and both of those things could only mean-

You stop yourself short, realizing you’re getting ahead of yourself.

You can’t let yourself think that until you know for sure it’s true. 

So without moving - because if it isn’t him, you’re gonna want the advantage of the person in the driver’s seat not knowing you’re awake - you close your eyes and reach out with your powers, studying the only other soul in the car. You take into account every familiar ache and pain in their body, the fragile hope within their chest, and you smile.

“Soldier?” you call, ignoring the pain in your arm as you push yourself up into a seated position. Startled, his icy blues snap towards the rear view mirror.

And then they melt.

“No,” he responds, a smile tainting his tone. “I’m Bucky.”

Disbelieving and overjoyed, a laugh bubbles up in your throat. He maneuvers the car to park it on the side of the rural road and you slide off of the back seat, leaning over the center console to look at his face. He turns to look at you, too, grinning - something you’ve never seen him do before. 

He’s offered you slight tugs at the corners of his lips in moments where he was more ‘James’ than ‘Soldier,’ yes, but not ever this - this flashing of his teeth and crinkling at the edges of his eyes. Bathed in the golden glow of the rising sun and freedom, he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi, Bucky,” you greet him breathlessly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Hi, Y/N,” he returns, and the next thing you know you’re being pulled - squealing - from the back seat towards the front, and his arms are around you, holding you tight against him. In the cramped space of the car, the embrace is awkward and even on the verge of painful - what with all the levers and the steering wheel digging into you; but you don’t care. You just wrap your arms around him, too, and pull him impossibly closer, a different kind of tears filling your eyes as you bury your nose into his dark hair. 

“I thought I lost you,” he heaves out the shaking words against your chest, trembling in your hold. There’s so many emotions twisting within him that it’s hard for you to decipher them from one another, but most prominent of all is his guilt; his overbearing, gut-wrenching guilt. It makes you realize, with a sinking heart, that not only had he thought you dead, he’d thought he’d been the one to kill you - inadvertently - by shooting Talon.

“I’m right here,” you murmur into his hair, pressing a kiss to it after. “It’s alright - we’re alright, Bucky. We’re free.”

At your words, he pulls back enough to meet your gaze, an almost mystified look on his tear-stained face. It’s the smallness of his voice as he repeats your last two words back to you that causes your own tears to spill over. 

“We’re free.”

He almost sounds like he doesn’t really believe it, and you can understand that, as you hardly do yourself - but still, you try and reassure him, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, Bucky, we’re fr-”

Bucky presses his lips against yours, cutting you off.

Taken aback, you stiffen at first - but then you melt into him, one of your hands moving to cup the side of his face and pull him closer, the other sliding down to rest over his heart. It beats strongly against your palm, setting the pace for the kiss, the first the two of you have ever shared. And, oh, what a first kiss it is: gentle yet passionate, grounding but freeing all the same. 

It warms you from the inside out and tingles beneath the surface of your skin in the most exhilarating of ways, making you feel so alive - reassuring you that you are, as it would be so easy for you to convince yourself that you’re not, since this is the closest to Heaven you’ve ever been. 

If you could have it your way, it would never end; you would stay in this moment for the rest of your life, reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s lips moving against yours and his arms encasing you, the mix of positive emotions swirling in your respective chests. Your lungs however eventually betray you, and you have to part from him to catch your breath - but you don’t go too far. You only move to rest your forehead against his, a happier rendition of a moment lived not too long ago.

You stay like that, just basking in one another, for an eternity. And then he asks you, in a tone that tells you he’s open to anything you might suggest, “Where do you want to go?” 

You smile as you open your eyes, meeting his waiting gaze. 

“Anywhere,” you tell him simply. “As long as I’m with you.”

A/N: first and foremost, if you’re reading this, bless you for making it this far, and I really hope you liked this one-shot! I’d love to hear any thoughts you may have on it :).

I’ve been planning the story of Bucky and this specific reader in my head for months now, so to see them finally “come to life” is a pretty great feeling. I hope you guys love them as much as I do, because I’ll hopefully be sharing the journey that led them to this ‘epilogue’ with you soon 💜.

One last thing, I want to give a shout out to every single person who has given me words of encouragement and advice over the past few months as I’ve talked about picking up writing again. Especially @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors, whose reaction to just a snippet of this one-shot and constant support throughout the writing process pushed me to keep going even when I felt like giving up and dropping out of the challenge. I’m so sorry I kept you waiting to see what happened for so long! I hope the wait was worth it!

 ( @buckyreaderrecs and @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors, I did it you guys!!  💜)

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