Part Seventeen of The Fixers
The General smiled at Bucky in the throne room of the Asgardian palace. However, they might as well have been back in the medical room of the Russian base, for all Bucky cared.
“So then, Soldat,” the General said, “what are you going to do to me?”
Bucky frowned; this wasn’t how the General usually talked to him.
Of course not, a voice inside of him said. This isn’t your general; he’s a demon.
Bucky smiled to himself.
“What do you mean by that?” Bucky asked. He pretended to sound bored so that the ‘General’ would get annoyed at him.
“What I mean is, I’ve used you as a puppet for so long. I’ve brainwashed you, I’ve tortured you and used you like a child plays with their toy soldiers. And I’d gladly do it again. Doesn’t that anger you, Soldat?”
It did anger Bucky a lot, mostly because he knew he wasn’t the only one.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? How have you managed to stay this young during all this time? You can’t have been put in the ice since you ran off, have you?”
The truth was that Bucky had been given a thing called an Infinity Formula, which slowed down the ageing process, and made him a little bit better at fighting and exercise than a regular person. It also made him heal faster.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bucky replied.
“I knew you’d do that. You couldn’t resist. Does it bring you comfort of the old days?” The General smiled.
Bucky slowly pulled out a knife, and gripped it in his right hand.
Despite the palace room being full, Bucky only concentrated on the General.
“Bucky, don’t,” Sam said, suddenly appearing in front of Bucky.
“Get out of my way, Sam,” Bucky growled.
“No. You don’t need to do this.”
Sam gripped Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky slowly pulled Sam’s hands off him.
“Sorry, Sam. I have to do this.”
He walked towards the General, who pulled out his own knife.
The two men circled each other, both poised to fight.
The General leapt at Bucky, aiming the knife at Bucky’s throat.
Bucky almost laughed at he easily blocked the move with his metal arm.
The knife was lodged into Bucky’s metal arm, and he took it out and threw it to the side. He then kicked the General in the stomach, and flipped the knife in his hand, just to show off.
The General snarled, and lunged, knocking him flat on his back.
Bucky got up quickly, jumped onto the General’s shoulders, and was about to go to town with the knife, when the General flipped Bucky over, causing him to drop the knife in surprise.
Bucky swore loudly. He didn’t have his bullet proof vest on. He only had his black domino mask with white fabric to cover his eyes, a long sleeved red Henley shirt, black high waisted jeans and his black combat boots with the silver steel caps.
The flip had caused him to land on his back on a cold marble floor; it was definitely going to leave a bruise.
The General laughed.
“You have grown weaker. You are sloppy. You’re not as good as you used to be. You-“
He never finished his insults because Bucky had got up by then and kicked him hard in the stomach, quickly spun around and kicked the General in the head with the steel cap on his boot.
“I’m James Bucky Barnes. And nobody tells me what or who I am, especially you!” Bucky snarled, rage driving him on.
The General fell onto the floor, but Bucky wasn’t finished with him yet.
He picked the man up by the scruff of the collar, and held onto his throat tightly. He turned up the steam pump on his metal arm, and watched as it burned the man’s throat.
The man didn’t react. He must’ve died when Bucky kicked him in the head.
But a part of Bucky was glad he had the final word.
He looked around at his friends, huffing a little.
Sam looked shocked, Natasha and Steve looked worried, Clint looked scared, and Thor, Luna and Loki looked at him with admiration.
Bucky smiled at them, and then turned towards Hel and Katherine, who didn’t look happy.
“So,” Bucky said, still a little out of breath, “would any of you like to challenge me?”
And then half the palace roof fell down.
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello to all beautiful people! Happy pride month my lovelies!!! This has been in my head, forever and I couldn't get past it. Every time I wanted to write something else, this was right there to remind me...
This is the first part. The second one is being written right now.
Warnings: My English. Everyone is alive, just cuz.
Word Count~ 9k+
Summary: It would turn out to be the most difficult thing you had ever done, but you didn’t know that. Your heart would break into many pieces, nowhere to be found, but you didn't know that. Not one moment of your life had remotely prepared you for what was about to come. You were told it was a simple and easy mission. You were reassured everything would be alright because there was no chance whatsoever to fail – it was considered to be an effortless, straightforward mission. After all, how hard could it be – it was just one file, go in, grab it, get the hell out and return home safely and fast. Unfortunately, no one had ever informed you about the circumstances under which you would have to act. Because playing a part was easy, playing people…that was another story completely. SPOILER WARNING - Time travel kinda fic!
Part I – Oblivion.
It was one of the few moments of serenity everyone would enjoy, partly because they were so rare. No wars to be fought, no worries to be dealt with, no missions to be completed. That to the Avengers meant sleep and training, while to you meant more babysitting than usual. Fury had appointed you and trusted you enough to report back to him, anything out of the ordinary. Your job had gotten pretty boring, pretty fast – most of them were never around, anyway. Days like this one, however, were testing your patience – and loyalty.
Even though he did not appreciate your calculating eye, at first, Tony was more than happy to give you your own room and enough freedom to run around the tower as if it was your own home. Well, after a certain point, it became your home, since you moved your things out of the rented apartment; you weren’t spending any time there, anyways. You usually stayed within your boundaries and only recorded anything really off, because soon enough you learned that they were a quirky bunch of people, getting closer as the years rolled by, even fighting like a family would.
Natasha called you a friend, and that was one of the highest honors achieved. Tony would let you play with his tools even though you had absolutely no idea what most of them did and Steve had offered to train you. Come to think of it, thank God he did. Wanda and Pietro, really felt like the siblings you never had, although Pietro was a flirtatious little shit. Vision was the wise uncle and Thor, when he happened to pop by, was a literal God. Bruce was always so timid and flustered by Natasha.
But then a stranger came in. Just when you had decided that you would never find the courage to ask Steve out, someone else invaded your space like nothing you had ever experienced before; and he was never really close to you, physically.
You only caught glimpses, bits, and pieces of that man, at first. You knew that Tony did not trust him at all and that Steve trusted him enough for the both of them. You knew he had a metal arm and he was called “Winter Soldier” by Tony, but Nat and Steve called him Bucky. Wanda seemed interested because for once she could not read a mind. At that, you called Fury and he was as cryptic as ever, only informing you to stay on your feet. Your gut was nudging you to do your own research but at the same time, why bother when the research material was few doors away?
You did find out about everything, eventually, mainly because you kept asking everyone up to the point that drove them insane. Once you saw his face, you knew why they were keeping him low-key monitored 24/7. He was accused of many things, that was without a question. You were watching at the live footage of the camera keeping an eye on him and you could swear that he looked straight through the lenses and burnt your face. The thing was… no one was trying to keep you away but he never wanted to get close to you or even greet you. You entered a room, he found another exit. At first, you didn’t think much of it. A person with a shitload of trauma couldn’t socialize… big whoops. But then, it started getting weirder each day.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have paid that much attention, if it wasn’t for Steve apologizing for his behavior only to you. Steve seemed off as well. It was a strange vibe that other times was so ever-present and others… you couldn’t even remember what you were worrying about. It had flooded your mind when you first met him, but again, didn’t think much of it. You were too busy gawking at him to really care about your intuition. And then, once you got used to him being well… him, the same feeling nudged you again sporadically. This was one of those times. You wanted to ask him what was the big deal but you never did.
You shook your head and walked down the aisle towards the kitchen. It was rather late for you but insomnia had taken over again, leaving you a not-so-hot of a mess. Your head was definitely not on your shoulders; you preferred dreaming wide awake, as if in a trance, all those scenarios in your head, wondering what if one of them came true…
You weren’t sure why you ended up in the kitchen, in the first place; your feet had carried you without your permission. You exhaled rather loudly while massaging your temples, eyes shut. Opening them was probably a mistake. You came face to face with blue eyes with a silver tone. Your heartbeat would have picked up if it wasn’t for the exhaustion.
“Hi” you simply offered and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and all but ran away.
“Bye” you said loud enough for the entire tower to listen to you, but your patience had reached its limit. You rolled your eyes at your tactics and his attitude and grabbed a bottle of rosé wine, walking back to your room. Why not the roof, you thought, and up you went.
“I never told you to be besties with her, nut-head. But that’s rude. Even for you” you heard Tony reprimanding someone and your stomach was already in a not. You froze, trying to catch everything you could hear.
“Says you!” Natasha exclaimed, defending…him? It didn’t make sense.
“Stop it. I mean, do you even know if she is loyal to you or someone else?” he questioned but surprisingly enough it wasn’t Steve or Natasha – the two people you thought of as friends – who defended you but Tony.
“Bullshit. You better fix this Rogers. Now” he coldly demanded and exited. Thankfully, the room had another exit and so he didn’t catch you. Not that he couldn't figure it out if he wanted to. You anticipated someone to prove him wrong but no such thing ever happened. However, Natasha said something that kept bothering you for the longest time.
“We both know that’s not why you are shit to her… and you, a coward”. You didn’t sit around for more bickering. Wine down we go, you thought.
“Good morning sunshine” Tony yelled at you, making you wince in pain. You had pulled yourself together and went for “work” – replacing Pepper while she was running the company. So, you did everything Tony threw at you. He was quite the mentor if you were honest. But times like this one really did push your buttons. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked at him and Steve.
“Hello, obnoxiously loud for your height person” you specifically choose not to include Steve, something he noticed as he arched his eyebrow. Tony caught on pretty fast but instead of staying out of it, he jumped right in.
“Who got your knickers in a twist? No! Don’t tell me! Captain Virgin?” he exclaimed right when Bucky was passing by, making you groan in frustration and facepalm. Steve turned red but kept his composure while his best friend was in shock. Tony seemed rather unphased by the scene. You tried to hand him a file but he raised his hands.
“I don’t like to be handed stuff” he said as if it was the single most mundane thing to say. You looked at him dead in the eye and got up from your seat.
“And I don’t like that I have to put up with everyone’s bullshit. But you don’t see me going like this every time one of you acts like a 5-year-old now, do you?” you said without breathing and slammed the file on the counter, in front of him, leaving the three men in awe and a bit worried.
You started walking away when Steve called for you and made you turn on your heels, approaching him like a shark was approaching its victim. He needed to know that he had hurt you.
“Come on, don’t – ”
“No, no. When you realize that I have been here even before you came along, and start treating me with respect, then I will come back. Until then, good luck sorting out your loyalties – because you should already know mine” you deadpanned and shot Bucky a poisonous glare. For a second there, you saw guilt and pain but you turned around before that second became more.
You stormed out of the tower and walked aimlessly, without really knowing where you went. You walked by the Empire State Building and your feet carried you towards Brooklyn, without you even noticing it. Hangover at its best but you tried to walk it off along with your anger. You passed a couple of coffee shops before you decided to enter one. The ornate facade and all-wood interior, with a dash of stained glass, and its extremely low-key vibe, transported you to an earlier era. It also helped that it was tucked on a street corner in Boerum Hill surrounded by handsome brick townhouses.
Although it had basically the vibes of a bar, it felt familiar and even… comfortable to you. It was called Brooklyn Inn and you had never seen anything online for it. It felt old and vintage but it was so welcoming to you as if you belonged there. You hadn’t planned on staying there but you found a seat by the bar and had the intention of ordering a coffee but you remembered why you run away and instead you ordered a glass of Malbec.
The wine was exquisite; rich, dark, and full-bodied with hints of black cherry, vanilla, and sweet tobacco. You were informed that it started with grapes from France but ended up being produced in Argentina and that the glass you were holding was indeed, French. You found comfort in that and it perplexed you. Your eyes traveled around, looking at all the different people in the pub and how many more would have had their drink here… until your gaze fell on him. You had no idea how to feel or even express that. But how did he find you? He approached you, a bit reserved but not too much. It felt that it was his idea to find you – or at least, you hoped to. You were a sucker for those people… brooding, traumatized and devilishly handsome. He sat down next to you, and you got the feeling that he had done that more times than you could count; it felt natural. Almost everything felt just the way they were supposed to.
When the bartender came to take his order, he greeted him and even held a small talk, which meant two things. Bucky was
capable of talking, just not to you and secondly, he came to this place, quite often too, if you were to judge by the friendliness and the fact that the guy knew what the “usual” meant. He was fucking dushing, you noticed.
“And one more glass of Malbec for the lady” he added right after, leaving you confused as fuck but surprised in a good way, too. You just sat there, looking at your glass, not daring to disturb whatever universe you had entered.
“I am sorry for being a jerk to you” he confessed while the drinks were served. You thanked the bartender and took a sip.
“Try looking at me when you apologize” you softly mused and you noticed a side smile forming on his lips, one that he quickly dropped. To your surprise, he did. And you found yourself captivated by his eyes.
“I am sorry, doll” his mouth betrayed him and your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He quickly apologized again and remained silent. You felt so awkward that you let out an airy laugh. It might not have been for you in particular but getting to be called doll but the one James Barnes was on your bucket list. The man in front of you was an infamous flirt back in the day – that much you knew from Steve, when he actually talked to you.
“S’ okay… Sergeant” you commented with an eyebrow slightly arched. He actually blushed at that and you felt very proud. You put down your glass and turned towards him.
“But why? Why were you a jerk? No offense” you quickly added, hoping to get an answer this time. He cleared his throat and adjusted his body as well. You could literally see his brain malfunctioning.
“It’s just that… I don’t know and I am not big on trusting strangers” he said but you didn’t believe it. If he didn’t know you, he could have asked. If he truly didn’t know you, he wouldn’t know where to find you – alright, maybe that was a coincidence, but what about your drink?
“Bullshit” you softly challenged him while looking at him dead in the eye but smiled nonetheless and dropped it. You sat there for a while, enjoying the vibe and the drinks until you took your wallet out to pay and leave. You weren’t sure if it was his manners kicked in, or if it was a force of habit but he stopped you…in a very physical way. He touched your hand and pushed it back – you weren’t even sure he realized it.
“Thank you, but I can pay for my drinks” you said steadily. He gave you a funny look and placed 30 dollar-bill under the receipt.
“I know” he simply commented and he gave you his hand to help you out of your stool. Yeah, you had entered another dimension. Exactly because you were so unprepared for all of it, really, you just complied. And the touch was pushing you further down a slippery slope. He even held the door open for you. “Wait, wait. Why are you being so nice?” you suddenly asked him, making him smile in question.
“Can’t I just be sorry for my attitude?” he questioned. You were about to say no but… oh, well.
“You’re going to poison me? Have you spiked my drink?” you kept asking and he let out a small laugh. He declined every accusation with a ‘nope’. You ended up walking around Brooklyn with him and you didn’t even notice. He was silent for the most part but that didn’t bother you, as you simply let your mind and eyes travel as far as they wanted. Brooklyn was the heart of the entire New York City. It was so oddly familiar to you, even though you hadn’t lived that long there.
“So… you and Steve… he tells me you are close” he tried to make small talk. It took you by surprise the fact that they had talked about you. You thought about the statement for a bit.
“Sure. I mean, obviously, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s a good friend” you answered truthfully. He was a very good friend. He was there for you since you met him. Come to think of it, he and Bucky acted exactly alike. Mmm, not exactly, but they both avoided you in the beginning, and then everything was perfect. He too, wouldn’t talk to you, although he did talk to you, just not… in an elaborated way. More like in
the ‘I see you here every day and I have to be polite’ way.
“Oh” it was all he said. The conversation, if one could call it that, died down after that. And it was getting late. You had to return to your job and have a talk with Tony to get him to cooperate and sign the damn contracts he initiated. “This was lovely, weirdly enough. But I do have to get back” you soothed. It was the strangest day for you. Or so you thought. He, on the other hand, had no intention of going back so early.
“Have ever been to Coney Island?” he blurted out, leaving you dumbfounded. You blinked a couple of times before answering.
“No, I don’t think I have” you told him as you crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He slightly frowned but you really didn’t understand why.
“If you need a guide, I am available” he offered while he took a step back. You really didn't know what to think.
“Brooklyn born and bred, huh?” you joke but he took pride in that. Why wouldn't he, you thought.
“Yes ma'am” he confirmed and left you wondering what the hell just happened.
“I should go. Thank you for... the normality” you waved goodbye. He lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Without another word, you took your separate paths.
You were thinking about how people were constantly moving at quantum speeds, in their minds, in their work, building patterns and seeing past through their everyday lives. Having this socially constructive mentality that they needed to be productive to be seen as equals to their peers. Constantly in motion, to be more and criticizing their imperfections. It felt like a constant need to keep striving forward, but they would eventually lose focus on their true essence, on what their really needed. So caught up in thinking about who they were going to be that they didn’t even recognize who they were right now.
You caught yourself being one of those people and tried to find stillness in your lives, moments of silence, to come back within, to allow the rest of the world to keep moving forward, to see new objectives intuitively flowing through.
The sky was so soft, you felt that it would melt if you touched it. The darkest blue was stained with little balls of color. You wished that you could see the night sky at its glory, without the lights and pollution to destroy the magic. Your room didn’t have the best of views, anyway. You gave up trying to imagine how different the velvet canvas would have looked seventy years ago, and strolled around the compound. Everything was still and serene as if no one was even breathing. You always felt torn between big crowds and solitude, being with company and being alone, living in a big city and leaving everything behind.
He was such a fucking contradiction. He was flirtatious, charming, and romantic, but also introverted and emotional. You could never really know because of how adaptable and changeable he was. You understood his mood swings better than anyone, but it was hard even for you, to keep up with the stream of emotions that never slowed down.
He was someone whose identity had been obliterated by pain—a pain that had destroyed almost every last vestige of his personhood. It was for this reason that he almost never spoke, you thought. He was still fighting whatever HYDRA did to him. You thought of the reoccurring presence of a piercing, metallic scream—a scream that was positively visceral, expressive of a tremendous amount of pain, panic, and fear. Brutal and brutalizing, that noise playing in his head over and over again, impacted him on a palpable, instinctive, organic level, giving sonic form to the blank, numbness inside the Winter Soldier’s mind. He was trying to fight it and you could see that. The demons were still inside, though.
Steve had told you that Bucky was one of the few people that actually recognized what it was that made him good, before his transformation into Captain America. has been made of the fact that Bucky Barnes is one of the few people to recognize the greatness in Steve Rogers before his transformation into Captain America. You saw the way he believed in Steve, too. But you wanted to yell at him that, yes, Steve was great but so was he. He didn’t believe he could achieve that kind of greatness but he didn’t mind, he had plenty of time to come to terms with it, as he had revealed once, a very unholy hour.
And that was exactly what made him great; his selflessness, his choice of friendship instead of jealousy. You were watching him again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watched him and observe the way his hair had grown the last few weeks and how some strands were falling down to his eyes. He brushed them away, harshly, and you wondered how these bruised hands would feel on your skin. His skin glistened warmly like desert sand when the sun caressed him.
You watched bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or was it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It was your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse. This time, he was watching you too. His eyes were blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug
blue that broke through the purple sky like a whispered sunset. Bucky was watching you and he had no intention of averting his eyes and you felt your blood freezing inside your veins. It was a bitter realization of how much power that man held over you. Your body shivered.
You couldn’t prevent it anymore; your eyes were drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotized you over and over again and you were terrified by the light but you were more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. You blinked. You sit there, frozen in time, while everyone else became witness of the silent conversation between the two of you, but you had a hard time understanding if it was your heart that hammered beneath your ribcage or if it had stopped.
You were dreaming again. You were daydreaming that there was a gap between reality and something like blood was sticking between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you didn’t mind because his hands were on your neck, on your face, in your hair – “do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still” - and you were, you were still, you were quiet when he dragged you over to the wall and pushed his knee between your legs and you wanted this, wanted him and his fingers dug painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he held you still, so still you couldn’t move and it hurt…
You shook your head. Your mind was playing with you, mocking your naivety. He was watching but he was only watching, as were you – from afar. Never once getting closer than that.
“Are you okay?” a worried whisper, violently shook you out of your dream. It felt so real; his touch burnt marks and you could swear you knew how they felt.
“Yes” you said as in a trance. Steve didn’t believe you. He knew that answer, he used that answer. He looked at you concerned but you looked at the other man walking behind him, not really paying attention to anything he said. You often wondered if he was able to just… read your mind. It was easy, too easy, to fall for him. He was tender and familiar. He understood so much of his surroundings and experienced deeper than anyone you had known. But you wished you knew if he truly felt – it seemed easier to be numb.
Steve arched an eyebrow and gave you the look, which was actually wasted since you weren’t looking at him. Bucky saw you and didn’t turn away, instead he looked right back at you.
“I have to go” you blurted out and left as fast as your legs could carry you.
“What about Nat?” you heard Steve asking and you swallowed your heart. “It’s different” Bucky simply answered. You stopped breathing so you wouldn’t miss a word.
“How? They are both from your past” Steve offered but your head couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“That’s not true and we both know it” he replied and silence took over. You had taken one step when a response was out there, for you to deal with it.
“Of course, I know. But she doesn’t know and we cannot tell her”.
Days and nights passed by in an everlasting circle. Minutes turned into months and your life moved on. You never asked what was the big secret; you took what they gave you and cherished it. You never lied about anything, you were always there and somehow, you had gained Bucky’s trust. He confided in you, he laughed around you without worrying about what people might think, as did Steve. But they never said a word. You had caught some other weird comments as well but you brushed them off. They would tell you when and if they felt comfortable. You had a pretty vague idea about it and you tested it more than once but never crossed a line.
Little things like small comments about their past, questions asked but never answered, words that didn’t correspond with today… you didn’t really know what to think but you started realizing that something was going on… since before you met them. Maybe they knew a girl with strong opinions and quick temper back in the day and they were projecting. Maybe, they just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Who could blame them?
Bucky was on the cold tiles of his bathroom and was pressing his hands flat down until the chill crawled up in his bones. He felt burnt and touched and scorched in all the places that he thought had healed a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, the water tap was dripping in tandem with his heart. Drop, drop, drop, your name was spelled…
You had just entered his room, waiting to find him looking outside the window. Instead, you heard the ragged breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw crime scenes. A marketplace in the afternoon glow. Orange lights switching to red. Honking cars. His lifeless eyes fixed on his target. And the scene always ended with a twist – his target was no longer the bold man; he was no longer the Winter Soldier, it was no longer the present, you were no longer safe.
Drop, drop, drop. Bucky opened his eyes when the sun had long died on the horizon. One of his hands was resting on the tiles – the other wasn’t his. He felt like an emergency. But you kneeled down and sat next to him, with both of your hands on the tiled floor. He remembered a scene that had yet to happen. He wanted it to.
“Tell me you need me”, he said and his lips were shivering against your sunburned skin, “tell me you need me, tell me you can’t fucking breathe without the scent of my cologne or the taste of my skin under your tongue. Tell me”, he said and he was frantic, almost wild in his eyes, “tell me you want me. Tell me you want me so much that it fucking burns inside of you. Tell me you’re not ashamed”, and this time the man was almost begging with his hands roaming all over your face and his eyes blinded from the dying sun, “tell me you love me, please, tell me that all the flesh I burn and all the blood I swallow underwater is worth it. Tell me you won’t leave me”, he whispered and something tasted acid like bile and salty like tears in the back of your throat and the air was unusually hot, and each of his words left knife marks between the hollows of your ribs.
“Tell me this isn’t all in my head”, the man finally broke out and covered himself with your body like a blanket made of waves and you kissed his eyelids and watched as the skin under your lips melted to ashes.
“It’s too cold for you” he croaked and you chuckled. You shook your head, and you knew that even in the dead of the night he could see it.
“You’re not too cold for me” you reassured his not spoken worry. He was terrified and you only got a glimpse. Fridays were supposed to be movie nights – the guys educating you in old cinema – but you didn’t mind at all the scene you were witnessing. You slowly approached him and even more reservedly you offered your hand in a kind gesture – he could pick himself up, physically, but sometimes that was not enough. He touched you, grabbing onto your hand for dear life. The lights were off inside his room. He didn’t turn them on and you respected that decision.
It was late; again. In any other scenario, you would consider this romantic but his fragile state made you scared and angry at the people who bent him backward. He sat on his bed and you didn’t dare move from his side. He had been careful enough to hide this part away from you, to hide the panic attacks that came with it, the nightmares, the voices. You sat there in absolute silence until you moved your hand to touch his metal arm. He looked at you as if you were insane – because he was afraid of himself enough for the both of you.
“I’m scared of the darkness inside of me. It is growing, day by day, and I fear the day it consumes me. You called me a hero when we first met, Steve told me… but I feel like I have been the villain all along” he found himself confessing and you had no idea what hit you. You had seen him down, sad even angry but never so… broken. Ready to give up everything.
“I called a hero because no one else would be standing here, sitting next to me, talking about their trauma. I called a hero, not because heroes are pure light – no, because every single one of them is trying to fight the demons inside. Because, you have walked through the gates of hell, into the firepits, and survived to see… not the pearly gates but this mediocre existence, full of mundane little things” you admitted without even realizing what was the very essence of your words.
“I tried to unlearn how to hold the guns and the knives the way they taught me. I tried to unbury myself from all those corpses of people they put above me. I tried to erase them from my system. With scissors and razor blades and butcher knives and broken shards of a mirror. I don’t want to be killed twice” he winced at the thought and you acted out of instinct, cupping his face with your hands and looking deep into his eyes, to see where those demons were hiding and obliterate them any way you could. He was taken aback but didn’t move.
“Do I scare you?” he asked in a small voice, too afraid to destroy the stillness of the moment.
“You could never”.
He lied sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like autumn. You wanted to drown in it.
His hand was in your hand and your hand was in his and his lips were on yours and your lips were on his and his fingers touched your skin and yours touched his shoulders and-
You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. It felt so… right. So real. You could almost touch him and sense his warmth but something was off. In your dream, he was younger, careless, carefree…and you never felt the metal of his arm.
You had made a promise of never falling asleep when he was around because even if it felt so damn right, you never wanted to make him uncomfortable. However, seeing him sleeping so peacefully took some of the guilt off of your shoulders.
He was serene, almost resembling the disoriented dream of yours. Softer, mellow, and not tormented by those demons that hunted him each waking moment. You tried your best not to touch him and slipped under the bedding, still very much able to understand just how much heat he was radiating, making you fall asleep again. Easily.
There was half a carton of milk leftover from breakfast on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight from the carton. He scowled at you and took a glass from one of his cupboards. His hand reached out, but stopped. You waited for the touch to burn you. It didn’t.
“Darlin’, we do have glasses” he mocked you but his hand cupped your face, lips inches apart, when he moved away with a wicked smile.
“Fucking sadist” you whispered and tugged him closer for a quick kiss. He smiled, lethally blinding. The only thing that mattered was him; the kitchen disappeared from view and you shut your eyes closed, getting lost in the moment.
You never talked about your dream to anyone. Even Wanda was forbidden from snooping around there. At least you hoped she didn’t. They were all the more vivid and you thought that you were either falling even harder or you were wishing for something that could never happen in your line of work. You had stopped reporting to Fury – and he knew. You had practically been adopted as the rookie who would help around and on missions but your skills were more intellectual than physical. Now, you could kill, you could fight, maybe not as well as Natasha or Steve but you preferred not to.
Bucky preferred you not to be anywhere near but it wasn’t his choice, after all. He had grown closer, almost attached to your hip but not exactly. There was something missing, something that didn’t exactly fit but you shook it off, as you had done with Steve, and moved on.
Today was one of those effortless days; no worries whatsoever. Tony was insisting on preparing brunch, but him being … him, you all ended up eating a makeshift breakfast. You had been seated on a high stool as you spotted the half-empty carton of juice on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight out of the carton. And then everything was in slow motion, everything was familiar. He rolled his eyes and scowled you, as he took a glass from one of the cupboards. He poured the leftover juice into it and with a mocking smile, handed it to you. But you were too frozen to do anything but look at him, eyes wide open and mind shut.
“What? We do have glasses here” he told you in a funny way as if he had no idea what just happened. The man in front of you was the same fucking person in the same fucking context. But how could that be? Were you predicting the future? Or… had you lived that before?
You took too much time to answer, or even react in a way that they grew worried. But you didn’t know how to reassure them that you were okay because you weren’t. Your mind was playing tricks, one moment you were standing in the tower’s kitchen and the next you were on a stool in a vintage kitchen, small and cozy, with just one man. And then back to now. You tried to hide your face in the obnoxiously big cup of tea you had in front of you, which did not go unnoticed but you just couldn’t cope.
You were wondering whether or not should you respond the way you remembered you had, in your dream, or just let it pass. After a while, you knew Wanda was going to scoop and that why you warned her, quite loudly too. Please, don’t. Don’t. You knew she heard your thought clear as day because her eyes popped and blushed slightly, leaving Pietro wondering what had happened. You let it slide for now and kept your posture while everyone else was having a rather good time.
The whole thing wasn’t dying down any time soon but you needed air to breathe and space to exist. But you also needed an exit strategy. Or rather… a line. You stood up, thanked Tony but not really, and said you were going to start working for a living, meaning you were about to play around in Tony’s lab. No one found anything suspicious. While walking behind Bucky, you slightly leaned in and whispered that line.
“Fucking sadist”. His eyes shot up and his head snapped at you. He recognized it, and you were more than assured that this had happened again. But how, you didn’t know. For now, you were content knowing that at some point in this world, at some distant reality, you had felt his lips on yours. You would come back for answers but for now, you just went out to get a proper coffee. No Avengers.
Lately, you had been feeling rather off, out of touch with reality but you didn’t mind that much. Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming about images that had flashed before your mind when you were asleep, while others you were just thinking about him. It was just him. Every day, all day.
“Don’t make me use Wanda” Tony warned you out of the blue, startling you and making you look up, avoiding his gaze. He rolled his eyes so hard that you were afraid they were going to get stuck.
“You wouldn’t” you fired back, very much assured that he would not even think about it… but he surprised you.
“Well, it’s not like I need her powers to understand that you have been crushing on Barnes” he outed you without even worrying about people actually listening. You wanted to shush him but that would put you in a difficult position.
“Tony… please don’t” you simply asked of him. It was the first time you saw him worried and perplexed, at a loss of words. But then, corking an eyebrow, he just dropped his job and came to sit next to you. It was his lab, you couldn’t say no.
“Listen, you know that I am not particularly fond of his company – ”
“Tony, you hate the guy” you cut him off, making him arch his eyebrow again in agreement. You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“All I want to say is be careful” he concluded and made you realize that he did care about his team; well, not everyone, but for the most part, he did.
“Thank you, Tony, but let’s be realistic… I am never going to make a move, and I don’t think he is interested in making one either” you summed up what you had gathered. Tony seemed to disagree with your statement, shaking his head but not saying a word, which was suspicious.
“What? Do you know something?” you pushed further but he just got up and went back to his job.
“Not everything is what it seems, honey” he cynically quoted and left you with a gazillion questions, which he wasn’t going to answer. You knew that he knew something and that Steve knew too. Maybe Natasha, but you weren’t sure, Wanda probably, since she can pretty much-read minds, and therefore Vision as well. Clint had a family, Pietro had god knows how many girls, Thor was in Asgard and Bruce was falling for Natasha. Sam and Rhodey were placing bets for all of you. They all had their own problems to be invested in your non-existent love life.
All it took was a mission gone wrong and Fury was breathing down your neck each day and each night, demanding you report to him every single detail. Which you didn’t. Not everything. Why would it matter that you spent most nights sleeping next to Bucky because it had become a thing after having heard him suffering and barging in without second thought? Why would it matter that you never left that night or any night after that? Why would it matter that he had opened up about his past, slowly revealing all those details that you, somehow, already knew? Why would it matter that Steve was trying to warn his best friend that this was a bad idea and upon confronting him, he went silent and couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Why would it matter to Fury that you had been having all those dreams that seemed so real, vivid, and true to be just that? Why would it matter that you had a beautiful friendship with Wanda and Pietro? Why would it matter that Thor was hitting on you, ever so discretely, but permanent enough to make Bucky jealous? At least you thought he was… or rather, hoped. You really didn’t understand what difference it would make… Maybe if you had been completely honest with Fury, he would never have given you the solo mission. Perhaps, it would have been for the best. Probably not.
Tony was watching you like a hawk, whenever Bucky was in the same room but even he had to admit that whenever you were around he was more of a puppy than an attack dog, and he kind of appreciated that. Deep down, he knew that you and Steve were right about him but his pride and grief didn’t let him say it in so many words. He showed it by calling him by his name, joking with him, and even sitting next to him. Bucky was grateful for every single chance he was given, and every single day he tried his best.
All those little things, you thought of as personal and never disclosed them with Fury. Maybe too personal. They had become your family and you couldn’t just turn on them. As you watched them interact with each other you just saw a big, kind of dysfunctional but very loving family.
“So that’s your thing… you observe” he startled you and you quickly turned around to see a smug-looking face.
“It’s the best tactic” you carefully answered while searching for any kind of sign in his eyes. But he gave you very little. You shouldn’t have hoped for anything more but you were crushing indeed. He kept staring at you, checking you out from head to toe. You could tell that he … at least, appreciated your look. You were wearing a dark red dress with an elegant halter neckline, form-fitting bodice, empire waist, lace-up elastic back, and knee-length skirt. It had a black ribbon sash that garnished your empire waistline providing the perfect finishing touch. A winged eyeliner and bold, dark red lips were all you needed, makeup-wise.
You knew that he was still looking at you when you decided to grab your drink and walk over to the others, leaving him to admire your naked back as you swayed your hips a bit more. It didn’t take him long to join you.
The night went on pretty smoothly. Tony was a rather drunk jerk, Pepper was embraced and slightly angry at him but nothing new there. Wanda and Vision were in a world of their own and no one could blame them; Thor was drinking with Steve, while Clint and Pietro were betting who would pass out first. Rhodey and Sam were comparing their flying style. Bruce and Natasha were flirting shamelessly and you were enjoying your beer while listening to a very talkative Bucky. He hadn’t shut up ever since Steve had brought up old Brooklyn. And all the girls Bucky was seeing… There was cockiness in his voice and pride in his attitude, two things not so usual.
Some people would call that a small party, a gathering, but to you, that was just another Friday night. Everything was perfect until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced one Nick Fury and one Maria Hills. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and you simply swallowed hard. You felt it in the pit of your stomach. He was there for you. And it was never that simple with Fury.
“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” he mocked you, but Tony was faster.
“Sorry, we’re closed. Invitations only” he said very seriously. He was still not big on trusting him and honestly, he was right. You stood up and tried your best to hide behind Bucky’s broad silhouette. He sensed it and was confused but not a moment later, he froze. There was a moment of realization that you would understand later on. He tried to shield you from Fury’s view, while Steve… did the same, as he walked in front of you.
“It won’t take long. I just need to borrow her” he pointed directly at you and a rush of cold air was pushed down your lungs. No, every part of your conscience and subconscious was trying to warn you; it was as if your body was scarred to move. You shook it off and hesitantly walked towards him.
“It’s only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back” you assured them but the look on Bucky’s face was one of dread. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. Fury rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be in the other room” he informed you but you really didn’t care about him. Your hand was on fire by his touch.
You looked worried as well but you couldn’t understand why. Bucky seemed to know more than he let on but now was not the time. He simply brought you closer to him with desperation. You didn’t know how to react. He had never been that touchy or that straightforward with you.
“Remember this, please” he begged you, and as you were going to ask what, why and other possible questions, he cupped your face and planted a pained kiss on your lips. Your breath was caught on the back of your neck, your mind shut down and your eyes had never closed that fast before. You felt the agony, the emotions flowing towards you, the pain-stained past… you felt him.
He let go, unwillingly. He looked pale as if he had seen a ghost; or maybe you were one. His eyes never left yours and when his hand fell through thin air, his breath hitched, he immediately tried to grab you but Steve called him, ever so softly, that you never heard it clearly. But alas, it had to happen.
Dumbfounded, you walked into the room with Fury, not being able to process anything, still feeling him close but too far away.
“You talk to no one, you change nothing, you come back to your boyfriend and you still say nothing, got it?” he deadpanned but you were too lost to be able to understand any of it.
“What do I do?” you asked purely out of habit. He went into details, nothing too descriptive. You had to use one of the things he gave you to be transported, whatever that meant, in and out of where you were going. You had to find a file with the number 32557038 in a military base and return home. Under different circumstances, you would have declined but you were not in the right mind and all you wanted to do was go back to Bucky and have a do-over. But, alas.
“You’re going now”.
“Press this when you’re ready and press it again when you’re done”. He didn’t give you much of a choice, as he pressed it for you, and you spun around.
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A Few Weeks Pt6
Hello All!!!! I am so sorry for the long wait on this part. Thank you for the support and kind words! I look forward to getting some more parts out to y’all soon! As always request and tags are open.
Summary: You are suck in a house with Hiddleston, Stan and Evans and Stan decides he wants a sweet treat.
It is a shorter part but I feel the story coming back and will have parts up very soon!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Y/N was in a god-awful mood. She was bored and frustrated. Messing around with the men was fun and had its perks, but you could only organism so many times in a day. She opened and closed the fridge, pantry, and cabinets for the fifth time today, hoping something would change or magically appear. She noticed the whipped cream and strawberries and knew there were baking ingredients in the pantry. It had been years since she had baked anything. She cooked all the time, but baking took time, and it was time she usually didn't have. But she had the time now, so might as well. She wanted to make a strawberry shortcake. It was perfect for summer. She started pulling out ingredients and looked up a recipe on her phone. It was very apparent she was rusty at the skill by the time she got the shortcake in the oven. The kitchen counter floor and herself were covered in flour and other ingredients. Y/N got the kitchen cleaned and started cutting up the strawberries when she felt a hand at her back and a kiss on her cheek.
"What are you up to, ms betty crocker?" Sebastian quipped with a smirk on his face.
"I am baking, if you must know."
"Baby, you know that the flour is supposed to go in the recipe, not on you, right?" Sebastian teased.
"YES! I am a little rusty at it, okay." Y/N fired back, half playing around, half a little frustrated at making the mess she did.
"Aww, turn towards me, let me see you."
Y/N turned towards him and saw the smile grow wider on his face. She launched into defending herself. "Stop, don't laugh. I turned the mixer up to high at first, and flour exploded well, everywhere." Embarrassment turning to pride, she followed, "Can you bake at all? No, I didn't think so!"
"Come here, darling, let's clean you up a little," he said while pulling her toward to sink and grabbing the roll of paper towels along the way. Sebastian wetted and then rung out a paper towel and started wiping off the flour on her cheeks and neck. The timer for the shortcake went off, and she rushed to grab the oven mitts and pull them out. It was steaming and just barely golden brown, absolutely perfect. She just hoped it tasted as good as it looked.
Sebastian finally asked, " Those look amazing. Can we dig in?"
Y/N quickly shouted, "No. First, they have to cool; then, I need to assemble them. Plus, I have to finish cutting the strawberries."
"Fine, I will wait then since it appears I have no other options." He resigned, kissing her on the cheek and walking off.
Forty-five minutes later, she had all the berries cut and the cakes out of the pans and ready to assemble. She was thoroughly enjoying herself at this point. The hard stuff was done. She just had to put cream and strawberries on them, and she would be done. She took her time enjoying the process of making everything look nice. Sebastian popped his head in through one of the openings and smiled at the delicious treat in front of him. The woman he had indeed come to admire and care for was standing in front of him with the most blissful smile entirely in her world, enjoying the task before her. He couldn't help himself. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a little squeeze and kiss on the neck. Goosebumps broke out over Y/N skin, and she smiled, saying, "Nice try, it still isn't ready. I need to put it in the fridge and let it chill."
"excuse me then he stated mockingly, opening his arms and allowing her to walk over to the fridge and place it inside. When she felt like it was safely on the shelf, she turned around to find Sebastian's finger extended towards her with a dollop of whipped cream on end and a dangerous smile on his lips. Y/N knew what he had in mind and felt her clit throb at the idea of it.
She sauntered over to him. When she was close enough, she slowly leaned forward and took his whole finger in her mouth, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. Sebastian's cock immediately throbbed at the look of her mouth wrapped so tightly around his finger. He couldn't keep himself from letting out a growl as he watched the sultry scene in front of him unfold. He pulled his finger from her mouth with and pop. Y/N scooped another dollop of whip cream, but instead of keeping it on her finger, she smeared it on her neck right below her ear. Y/N rolled her head to the side, allowing him more access to the sensitive spot. He placed soft kisses around the cream at first, taking her breathing to become sporadic, then he took just the very tip of his tongue and licked a thin stripe of the whipped cream. Y/N felt the wetness between her legs growing. Sebastian moved his hand to cup her jaw. He was kissing and licking up all of the sweetness from her neck. He started to bite and move from her neck to her jaw, then finally to her lips. He kissed her long and deep, his hand going into her hair. Her hands grabbing his shirt to keep herself upright. Sebastian grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, and put a long line of the cream drown her chest right between each breast. He immediately dove in, licking and sucking the cream off. He then worked his way to each nipple, nipping, tugging, and massaging. Y/N moaned and let her head fall back.
Sebastian continued his assault, letting his fingers work at pulling off her shorts and panties. He slid a finger into her and felt how wet she was. He spread her legs with his knee, gave her another long kiss, then whispered, "Jump." She didn't hesitate and hopped up on the counter. "Good girl," he praised, watching her lean backward. The cool countertop made her hiss when her warm skin met it. Sebastian didn't waste another second. He fused his mouth to her center, licking and slurping up her juices. Y/N was arching off the countertop, digging her hands into his hair, trying to get him closer, and wanting to cum hard. He continued working at her clit, and Y/N could feel the knot in her stomach start to tighten. Sebastian finally slid a finger in her making sure she was ready, then slid in another. Y/N was a moaning mess on the counter, desperately trying to get Sebastian to go deeper. Finally finding her voice, she begged, "Please ... need you... in me." Sebastian was more than happy to oblige, stripping out of his jeans and crawling over her on the counter. He slowly pushed into her, making both of them moan at the pleasurable sensation. He started thrusting and could tell she was very close, but today he wanted to cum with her simultaneously. He saw the bowl of cream and dipped his finger in again, thrusting into Y/N hard and fast. He could feel her tightening around him, squeezing every inch. Y/N was sure there would be marks from her nails in Sebastian's shoulder with how hard she was holding on to him. Sebastian whispered in her ear, " Open, darling," and she did. She started sucking off his finger as he pumped in and out of her. The sight of her sucking his finger with her tight lips and his cock being squeezed pushed him over the edge. They both came at the same time, creating a unison of moans and cries. Sebastian slowly pumped once more than looked down at the beautiful woman below him. She had the slightest signs of perspiration starting on her hairline and had a blush on her cheeks. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, whispering, "Come on, darling, let get you all cleaned up."
"I think I will take over that task for you," Chris said, leaning against the wall with the strain of his cock pressing against his shorts. "What do you say, princess? Up for another round because you right now are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."
Y/n was embarrassed at first, but upon hearing him and seeing how turned on he was, she giggled and nodded.
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