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demonsandmischief · 16 hours ago
Come Home To Me Part 5
Marvel - A Sam Wilson Imagine
Sam Wilson x Female Reader 1.4k Words
Here's Part 4 and my Masterlist for additional parts
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-Part 5-
The ending.
You liked Washington DC. You liked Sam's house and being able to see the things he enjoyed.
It was also nice that you had the opportunity to be able to walk or ride the subway to wherever you needed. Even though there was a car for you to use, you couldn't drive. Sam had promised to teach you when he got back.
The only downfall was when he had to work. Sometimes he was gone for days. Two weeks had been the latest so far. It did give you a chance to find yourself beyond your sweet soulmate, but you always missed him terribly.
For this mission, it had been five days since you had last seen him.
You took boxing classes once a week to give you something to do. You considered getting a job, but you still were very uncomfortable and wary around other people.
It was also really difficult to sleep without him. The nightmares return full force. You didn't mean to be so attached to Sam, but how could you not, given everything that you went through?
You hum to the music as you eat some cereal for breakfast. Sam's place was full of old records, CDs, speakers. It was comforting to listen to the things he liked.
Sam: Miss you.
You grinned when you read the text. He had managed to call last night, and it had been so good to hear his voice.
You: Miss you more.
You could just push the messages right to his head, but you promised yourself you wouldn't when you learned they gave him serious migraines. Not to mention you had no idea what he was up to and you didn't want to be a distraction.
The TV program you had on in the background cut off to an emergency news broadcast, and even though it was muted, it still caught your attention. You turned up the volume.
It was definitely an adjustment to be without him, but you were learning lots of new things. How to cook and clean, different kinds of movies and TV shows. It was nice to feel like a normal person doing normal things.
Everything had been good recently, but that never lasts long.
"We interupt your scheduled program to inform you of the reports of a plane hijack containing US officials, including the Vice President. The plane has since crashed over Pennsylvania and is believed to be an act of terrorism. Captain America is believed to have been helping get the plane under control, but has not emerged from the crash site. Emergency personnel are on the scene."
You watched with horror as the cellphone video played, capturing your glimmering man falling from the sky before disappearing into the dust and flames.
You turned it off as a quick reaction, your heart pounding viscously in your chest. Your stomach threatened to turn, and your spoon hit the table with a clatter.
Oh god. Please let Sam be okay.
He had just texted you. He had to be okay. You cringed as the video replayed over and over in your head.
He had to be okay because you loved him.
Your phone ringing broke through your sluggish mind and you scrambled to get to it in time. It was an unknown number, but you answered.
"Hello?" you whispered.
"It's Bucky. Sam's been hurt."
A sob left your mouth but you muffled it with a shaking hand, "Is he okay?"
Bucky didn't say anything, only adding to your worry. You didn't even know Bucky was with him, or any of the details
"He's going to be fine, Y/N," he gave a tired sigh. "I'll come pick you up and take you to the hospital to see him. Is that okay?"
You nodded, before realizing he couldn't see. "Okay."
Sam was pretty banged up when you got there, but he was alive and you had never been so relieved in your life.
You sat impatiently by his bedside. The doctor told you his suit had taken the brunt of the impact, but he still hit his head pretty hard. Some of his ribs were fractured, along with his right wrist. He had been very lucky.
You dried your tears for the billionth time. Where would you be without him? Sam saved your life. He was your soulmate, your home.
You had dozed off in the stiff plastic seat when he woke.
He hissed as he shifted and stretched.
"Sam," you cried, reaching for his hand. "Don't move too much. Let me get the nurse."
"It's okay," he said hoarsely. "I'm fine. It's just a headache."
"You scared me," you whispered, feeling new tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Shh," he soothed, running his thumb over your knuckles and closing his eyes again. "I hate to see you cry."
The hospital monitored Sam's head injury for about a day before they cleared him to go home.
Bucky had stuck around and he drove you and made sure Sam was settled.
"Thank you for everything," you told him. "Are you sure you don't want something to eat before you go?"
He shook his head, "My girl is waiting for me at home. Let me know if there's anything he needs. You have my number now."
Sam was out cold. He was taking some medicine for the pain, and you felt beside yourself, not knowing what to do or how to help.
You had fallen asleep on the couch when you were startled awake by Sam standing over you.
"Jeez," you gasped, pushing yourself upright. "You scared the hell out of me. Why are you standing over me? Why did you get out of bed?"
Sam chuckled, "I'm sorry. You should have seen your face."
He nudged you over and sat down beside you, pulling the blanket onto his lap.
"Hey," you protested. "I was using that."
"Too bad. You have to scoot closer if you're cold. Why didn't you come to bed?"
"I don't want to hurt you, Sam," you protested. The cool air caused bumps to form on your arms.
"C'mon. You can't hurt me. Get over here before you freeze."
You hesitated. "I'll just get another blanket." You stood up, but he reached for you.
"Please, baby. I just need to hold you. I promise to tell you if you hurt me, okay?" He said it so soft and sweetly that you couldn't do anything but comply. Besides, all you wanted was for him to hold you.
You sat as close as possible without leaning too much on his ribs, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his left arm around you.
He reclined the couch, and you adjusted the blanket so it covered the both of you.
It was pretty quiet, and you could feel yourself starting to go to sleep when he spoke.
"All I could think of was you."
"What's that?" you mumbled.
"When I fell, all I wanted was to come home, to be with you."
You hummed, reaching for his hand. He kissed your head.
"When I accepted Captain America, I accepted my fate. I told myself that I would be okay with dying, but now I have so much to live for."
You smiled, turning slightly to see his shining eyes. He leaned down for a sweet kiss.
"I was terrified when I saw that video, and then Bucky called me. Like I told you before, I don't want to be anywhere you're not."
He sighed, "There's always a risk. It comes with the territory."
"I know," you whispered. "And I know it'll never get easier for me, but we can handle it."
Sam nodded, leaning back and closing his eyes.
"I'm surprised your sister hasn't personally come up here to beat your ass."
He laughed, wincing at the jostle it gave him. "That's only because you were around to tell her what's going on."
You smiled, "That laugh was payback for nearly giving me a heart attack."
Sam peeked down at you with another chuckle "You're a brat, but you're my brat."
You shuffled a bit so the blanket was pulled to your chin, a warm contentment settled over the two of you. He reached over to turn off the lamp.
"I do love you, Sam," you whispered very quietly into the darkness.
He groaned playfully, "You just had to wait until it was dark. How am I supposed to kiss you now?"
You giggled, a light happiness swirling in your stomach.
"I love you, too," he said back. "So much."
Tag List: @superwholockruleztheworld @imiiimargo @hiuahoe @idunnomayn @cable-kenobi @nialeesato @bklynxbaby @wolflover384  @mytbel0st @burnalley @heyarely16 @lilithknight1111  @loveyou5everr  @yougottalovefandoms @lets-love-little-me @cxlpxrnia @daddyissuesmademe @queentorresstuff @spookycereal-s
Thank you guys for loving this series. I've been in such a mental slump and struggled with this, so I hope it ended okay. I appreciate each and everyone of you.
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barnesdogtags · 18 hours ago
Real or Not Real? (Part 3)
Summary: Bucky made a bet with Steve that he would have a girlfriend before their trip back home to Brooklyn. Steve is bringing Nat and Bucky doesn’t want to be the third wheel. When he forgets about the bet until a few weeks before the trip, he asks you to be his fake girlfriend in a panic. Just one week, that’s it. But the line between real and fake quickly becomes blurred, leaving you to wonder if you’re really playing pretend anymore.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff
Tags: fake dating, “there’s only one bed”/sharing a bed, mutual pining, slight friends to lovers
PART 1 | PART 2 [masterlist - requests are open]
Word count: 1.6K
Nat chose an old, small diner for brunch. Across the street was an old run down movie theater that was surprisingly still open. 
“Remember when I made you go on that double date there Steve?” Bucky asked.
“Yeah, and my date went to the bathroom and never came back.”
“What a bitch,” Nat mumbled. 
“In her defense, I was very awkward and about four inches shorter than she was.”
You pictured young Steve and Bucky at the movies. It wasn’t hard to imagine what they looked like, you had gone to the museum before to see their exhibit a few months ago. Seeing how different Steve looked was a shock at first, but Bucky pretty much looked the same. 
You wondered what he was like on his dates, probably very flirty and smooth. He liked to brag about all the girls he got with back then, but you always teased how he must’ve lost his charm since he hadn’t gotten any dates since then. 
“How many double dates did you guys go on?” You asked.
“Just a handful, Steve always made excuses for why he couldn’t go.”
“I know you weren’t mad when I did, just meant more girls for you,” Steve laughed.
A small part of you felt jealous, but you told yourself it’s because they’ve been friends for so long while you’ve only known them a few years.
“None of them compare to you though doll. You’re my favorite girl,” Bucky smiled at you and held your hand under the table. 
It was impossible not to smile back and you blushed at the nickname. You definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that all the time. Without thinking about it too much, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. It was faint, but you saw his face turn a light shade of pink. 
While everyone ate their food, you wondered if Bucky would’ve liked you back in the 40’s. Would your paths have crossed at some point? Would he take you on a double date with Steve, or a date at all? Would you guys have been friends?
Bucky noticed you had gone quiet. “Are you alright?” 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about some stuff.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing serious, I was just wondering if I would’ve been alive back then if we would’ve been friends...or more.”
“I definitely think Bucky would’ve had a crush on you,” Steve chimed in. 
“Really? What makes you say that?” You were very curious what he was going to say.
“You guys make sense together, and I don’t think a different time period would change that. Plus I see the way he looks at you.”
“I agree. Bucky is definitely smitten,” Nat added.
The pink on his face was replaced with a deep shade of red. He let go of your hand and you tried not to feel hurt by it. It didn’t matter anyways, Nat and Steve couldn’t see it.
“How do I look at her exactly?” 
“Like she’s the only one in the room. Sometimes it’s like I can see little hearts in your eyes,” Nat laughed, clearly amused at how flustered he was getting.
The waitress interrupted with the check. Bucky insisted on being a gentleman and paid for your meal. You wanted to go back to the conversation before, but it seemed like it would be weird now. Did he really look at you like that? If so, you had never noticed. Did you look at him a certain way? Not knowing was going to bother you.
“We should go inside the theater, just to see if it’s changed at all,” Steve suggested.
On the walk there, you reached over and held Bucky’s hand. When you walked in, Steve and Bucky both gasped. 
“Nothing has changed,” Bucky said.
You watched him look around, admiring the smile on his face. He was thinking back to all the time he spent there, whether with Steve or his family, and the nostalgia was almost too overwhelming. Steve was feeling the exact same way, and you were happy to be sharing this moment with them. 
“Would you have taken me here for a date?” Nat asked Steve.
“I don’t think I would’ve gotten the courage to talk to you. You were out of little Steve’s league.”
They continued their conversation, leaving you and Bucky alone. Something had shifted since the conversation at the restaurant, and things felt awkward now. It was never like this with Bucky, you two were always comfortable around each other, and it was never hard to make conversation. But right now, you didn’t know what to say.
“Hey, will you take a picture of me?” Bucky asked.
He handed you his phone that he just recently upgraded. Before this one he had a flip phone, which everyone constantly made fun of him for, and you finally convinced him to get something newer. You had to show him how to use it, and he still doesn’t fully understand it, but it’s been entertaining seeing him figure it out.
You took a few and then moved outside. Steve joined in, and they all turned out pretty cute. Bucky even posted some on Instagram (with your help) and whatever was going on between you two earlier was gone now. 
“This is one alley where I got my butt kicked and missed the movie I was seeing,” Steve said. The alley was filled with garbage and a large dumpster in the back.
“And I got there right on time to save your ass,” Bucky paused, “That was uh, the day I got drafted actually.”
Everyone went quiet. It was a sensitive topic for him, and you could feel something shift again, this time among everyone. No one knew what to say, everyone was scared of saying the wrong thing.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up,” he apologized.
“It’s alright. Are you feeling okay?” You asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t want to ruin the moment, so can we just keep walking and change the subject?”
Nat started asking them more about their childhood, but it was mostly just Steve talking. Bucky would occasionally chime in, but you knew he was remembering the war and everything that happened as a result of his drafting. You squeezed his hand in an attempt to let him know you were there for him if he wanted to talk later. He was grateful that you were there with him, just being with you made him feel a little better.
-   -   -   -
Everyone was pretty tired when getting back to the hotel that night. Walking around Brooklyn all day, especially out in the sun, was exhausting but still a lot of fun. You had forgotten about the bed situation until you and Bucky got back to the room. He went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and you quickly changed into your pajamas and waited for the bathroom. When you came out, Bucky was making a bed on the floor.
“I told you, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”
“I’ve done it plenty of times before, I’ll be fine.” 
“C’mon Buck, we’re mature adults. Plus you’re an old man, sleeping on the floor for a week will really hurt your neck and back,” you teased. 
“Fine,” he muttered and climbed into bed next to you.
It was big enough that there was space in between you two. If you fully stretched your arm out, your fingers would barely be touching him. 
“If you want to talk about what happened earlier, you can. I’m here, whether you want me to just listen or give advice. I just want you to know that.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, and you were worried you made him upset. 
“Thanks. It’s nice being back home, but then I start remembering my life know. I think about everything I missed out on, and how different things would be if I never would’ve gotten drafted. Steve wanted so badly to fight and he almost didn’t get to. I never wanted that, but I didn’t have a choice. I start thinking of all the people I hurt, and who are still hurting because of what I did. I hate knowing that I’ll never fully move past this.”
Things felt intimate now. The lights were off, and he was just an arms reach away, opening up in a way that he hadn’t before.
“Do you want my advice?” Bucky nodded at your question.
“I can’t begin to imagine how that feels, and I’ll never know what it’s like being in your situation. What I do know is that what happened wasn’t really you. Like you said, there wasn’t a choice. It’s awful, but it’s something you have to live with now. But I believe you can move past this and accept what happened. It might take years, but it’s not impossible. You have to stop holding onto the past, but I know that’s easier said than done. If you want me to, I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
“I know you’re right. It’s just hard to believe that right now, but eventually I will. Therapy is helping, but I know I have a long way to go,” he turned to look at you, “And of course I want you there with me.”
“Then I’ll gladly be there.”
It was quiet again. The moment felt even more intimate as you stared into each other’s eyes.
“We should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, got a big day tomorrow.”
“Right. Well, goodnight.”
He turned his back to you, and the hurt from earlier came back. You turned away from him and tried not to overthink it as you fell asleep.
tag list (let me know if you want to be added): @piggyinthesea - @ginger-swag-rapunzel - @sergeantbuckybarnes - @intothesoul - @multiplums - @geek-and-proud - @ourbestfriend-mishacollins - @mggpleasedontlookhere - @lamoursansfin -  @plaidconvers - @learisa - @lickmymelaninn - @buendiabebeta
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allandoflimbo · 19 hours ago
Ashens (Part 18)
Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian. Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 17,000 (I’M SO SORRY) the first half of this story is flashback. The second half is the present.
Chapter Warning: Sex, twice. Sad Sex. Filthy sex. SMUT. VERY strong Language. Bucky and Reader will be very toxic in this chapter. It might be triggering if you’ve ever been in an emotionally abusive relationship. 
Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.
Full Masterpage |
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There’s an imminent smell of old wood garnish and pumpkin spice escaping a bright orange glow that flickered in the background.
The odor was extremely strong, trickling through the thick and heavy air of the twelve by twelve room. There was a draft coming in through the window and it continued to help push the flame directly towards the center of the room- the scent marking anything in its direct path with a faint reminder of the close arrival of winter.  
Though the glow of a candle was soothing, to many it was anything but pleasant; scented candles were a new thing and it was said to be something for the upcoming future generation. 
The idea behind it was that it carried an artificial smell that held a memory you could carry along with you wherever you went. Its point was to remind you of where you were or what you wanted to be feeling, come the fitting setting. This specific pumpkin candle was to remind us all that it was a season of festivity and gathering, and much-needed warmth. The other obvious reason being that pumpkin was delicious. 
If you weren’t eating it,  you might as well be smelling it.
To most people, it made no sense. Why would you want to smell something so delicious and not be able to physically consume it? It was a pleasant odor coming from an artificial chemical, completely contrary to what is expected. Put simply, it was an empty promise.
One more strong whiff of pumpkin, mixed together with the cozy sound of a crackle of fire, he blinks and Bucky is brought out of his daze. He’s now entirely environmentally aware of his surroundings and sounds coming from additional places come into his perspective. 
Within a moment’s relapse, he chooses again to regain focus on the other specific sounds aside from the antagonizing fake fire, gazing his eyes over the pleasant words in front of him.
To his dismay, they don’t sink in. He is distracted by the harsh rain pellets and the distant undeviating sound of a honking Durant. Unlike the candle, those sounds didn’t stand out to him as empty promises, but instead as a reminder of the harsh reality of the outside world. 
His strong and confident fingers appeared to skim the yellow worn-out pages of his book on their own accord; his eyes still looking, but not necessarily seeing. Looking closer, with shoulders painfully slumped, he squinted his blue eyes. The words blurred into one and he began blinking desperately and shifting in his seat. He tried to regain his proper vision, not enjoying the sensation of not knowing or seeing what he was trying oh so hard to understand. 
His right thumb gave a slight unconfident tremble as he tried to pick up the next page. After a couple of failed attempts, the paper not obeying (most likely due to his careless attempt- it’s not like he was actually reading it),  he sighs in aggravation. 
He closes his copy of This Side of Paradise harshly between his hands, bringing it to his face. He bounces his right leg uncontrollably up and down as he tapped his pointer finger on the cover of the worn-out novel, resting one elbow on each knee.
It was a nervous tick he picked up somewhere along the way. 
The walls of the study room seemed to want to envelope him warmly, as if trying too hard to show comfort and security. There was an eeriness that made him constantly tremble and not feel comfortable at all. Maybe it was the hideous wallpaper, or maybe it was that disgusting odor of varnish from the freshly repainted wooden chair that he smelled when he first came in and could not stop thinking about. 
There was no longer a sound of a honking Durant, and the rain seemed to dim down drastically as he continued to look into the distance. He wondered if it was the December air leaking through the slightly ajar window that made the tightness in his chest grow cold and frigid.
Aggravated, he placed the book down next to him on the side table, avoiding the waiting and apprehensive eyes staring at him. They had been staring at him for what felt like hours but had been only mere minutes. 
He knew he was a strong young man, he'd always tried to be because that's how he was raised back in his little home town of Shelbyville, Indiana. And if asked about it, he would speak of it with great confidence.
When his mother passed away, his father had been the one to make sure to teach him that nothing like her death would be strong enough to tear him down. That instead, it would, and should, be a motivation for him to be a better person each and every time. He would need to transfer that hurt and despair into physical action. 
But clearly, it had to come with a price and tremendous hard work. Things like that, non material things like emotional determination, could not be bought. If you wanted to be great, you had to work to be great. If you wanted to be strong, you'd have to work for it. He’d have to push through all the heartache and pain to reach that level of excellence that he knew his father wanted to see in him.
That is that natural characteristic they’re born with: soldiers.
It was well known, Bucky Barnes was a military brat. His father was always well respected at Camp Lehigh. They'd say back at camp that he was much like his father: loyal, headstrong, patriotic, and obtained strong morals. It was practically in his blood to be a fighter. A fighter for the good in people, the kind, and the innocent. It was his duty, and when he'd grow up to put his own two feet in combat boots himself, he would be prepared to take on any mission he was told. He would be more than capable of doing so. 
They all promised him this and he himself grew up believing it. 
But this, this of all things, was not something he was prepared for.
Because he's realized -at this exact moment- that his entire life he has lost almost everything and gained absolutely nothing in return. He'd put himself out there so many times to try and do the better good, from giving his last twenty five cents (that he initially wanted to use to buy flowers for the new pretty girl he met) to the little boy he saw walking down Broadway with no shoes.
He excelled in every class he'd ever taken because he knew it was good for him because it would make his father proud.
The shadow that belonged to the eyes and voice from earlier sat down in front of him behind a large desk that had a plaque. 
It read ‘Director' in golden ink that had begun to fade from years of scratching and unkindly picking by kids that faced much less traumatic sentences than this.
Bucky's eyes lifted for the first time in what felt like a long time. He could feel the strain on his heavy eyelids as he did so. He regretted it the moment he looked up, because that's when reality seemed to have punched him directly in the gut. His eyes swelled and he blinked away quickly, not letting emotion get the best of his masculinity. 
He'd refused to let a tear out.
But the look of pity on the man's face is what did it for him, it made him want to completely fall apart. He didn't like being looked at that way. He didn't like being the victim, the way it felt. He hated it with a passion. He wanted to run out of there and hide himself away for at least one small moment and cry. 
"I'm so sorry." 
That was the response he exactly did not want to hear. Bucky let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his short hair as the words rang in his ears like ticking bombs. Again, he didn't like the pity. 
He tried to deny it and shake his head back and forth to himself but all that did was drive tears to trickle out of his blue eyes. 
He knew this would pass with time, but being weak was not the reaction he needed to put on display. He was a soldier for heaven’s sake. No matter how destroyed his life seemed to be getting, he couldn't let it show.
Bucky cleared his throat, making sure his voice would sound strong before he would begin to speak. 
And it was.
"It's not your fault.”
Twenty-one. That's how old Bucky Barnes was when his father passed away.
+  +  +
They were both laughing so hard that she started getting tears, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the laughter or the bitter cold. They were both so caught up in the events of the night neither noticed how cold it really was. 
Once their laughter dwelled down, she continued to stare at him in total admiration. He was something else  for sure. She wanted to feel his arm around her again. She looked down at his freezing hand and took it into her cold one.
“Tell me about you, James.”
He smiled when she looked back up and he gave her a tight squeeze.
“First, tell me what a fine dame like you is doin here in Brooklyn.” A playful smile plays on her lips, but it’s a rhetorical questions so he continues, “What do you wanna know?" 
She smiles even wider and this time it reaches her eyes, “Everything. I want to know everything about you by tomorrow mornin’.”
The fact that she suggested spending the night with him made him gulp. 
He looks down at her lips and nods slowly.
He followed up by telling her that the apartment he had rented out for the next few weeks was just a couple of blocks away. On the walk there she had questioned what he meant by rent for a couple of weeks to which he responded with that he would explain there, but that they should get warm first. 
When they arrived, his door ended up being three floors up. His dingy beat-up door made her smile inside. He gave off a classy, rich, stuck up vibe, but really he was simple and not much for being out there. She liked that he seemed so original.
He inserted the key into the normal door lock and bolt lock and opened the door for her to let her in first. She stepped into the “foyer”, if it could even be called that, and took a look around. It was more like a two by two feet space. She walked in the rest of the way and took a look around. It was basically a small studio, but a lot smaller. It was one room, inside there was a tiny kitchen on the left corner, a window that looked out to another brick wall, and to the right a metal bed with a white blanket.
But it was made, military style.
He walks over to his record player and places the needle gently down on the vinyl. If You Only Knew starts playing quietly. 
He looks over his shoulder at her and notices her facial expression.
“Yeah, sorry” he chuckled dropping his keys by his iron stove, “I know it’s not much, but it’s temporary. You should’ve seen my old place before I left for training.”
He catches himself when he says it but it’s too late. Her head snaps to his direction and her face holds an emotion that he can’t really pin point. He can’t tell if it’s fear or surprise. He swallows hard and tries to direct the conversation to a different direction. 
He curses himself in his head for his stupid slip up. He goes to the far kitchen and opens the cupboard, “I got some cookies, uhm,” he doesn’t know what to say with her staring at him like that. He closes the cupboard and runs a hand through his brown hair. It’s silent. 
It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. A car honks outside after it runs through a puddle and Ella’s voice is haunting. 
“You’re in the army.”
He’s caught off guard and his eyebrow raises at her voice. He looks at her. It wasn’t fear or surprise that she had felt when he said that, it was sadness. It was the one feeling he was afraid she’d feel, it was the reason why he didn’t want to tell her just yet. But it was too late, she knows now. 
He nods. 
He sees visible tears build up in her eyes. He doesn’t want this, he wanted this to be happy. Just a half hour ago they were laughing and now she’s in his apartment, shattered. She nods quickly and crosses her arms across her chest. 
She was different and he knew it the moment he saw her. Any normal girl would love to be with a soldier, but not in this case. Not when it was something like this. 
She looks at his bed and his window and shakes her head. This was a damn pit stop. 
The made bed revealed just how loyal he was to what he had signed up for and she knew there was no backing out. But he was perfect, she couldn’t lose him. She had to at least stay for the long hall, she thought. It wouldn’t last forever anyway. 
Her eyes meet his again. The tears had been blinked away and evaporated and her strong satire was back. 
He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the sink, sighing. He had been waiting patiently for her response. Whatever she said would ever make or break this, and for God’s sakes if there’s anything he didn’t want to do it was break this. 
“How long?” Her tone was strong. 
“How long till I leave?” He was a bit confused by the question.
She nodded. 
Bucky felt his heart sink. It wasn’t long. She would not like the answer. It was not good. She concluded this herself by his delayed answer and his stare at the floor beneath him. 
She let out an exhausted sigh and a click of her tongue as she turned away from him. Now she was angry.
“Five days.” 
They’re silent, standing there letting reality sink in. Minutes pass by. She takes a seat on his bed and takes off her coat. He watches her every move intently, wondering if she would decided to stay for the long haul or run out of his cheap room he dared call an apartment. 
“Like I said. I want to know you.”
He heart soars and he smiles. He re opens the cupboard and takes out a box of cookies. He fills up two jars with milk and hands one of them to her as he practically dances over to her. He sits criss crossed on the bed. She chuckles at how innocent he looks just sitting there like that in his dress shirt and suspenders, like a kid.
It’s awkward at first, trying to sit cross cross with a long dress on, but eventually she manages by pulling her dress up around her thighs. Bucky blushes at this. She brings him out of the moment.
“So what are you doing in Brooklyn?" 
He smirks, “I live here, Doll.” She gives him a confused look. He takes a deep breath and decides to start from the beginning, “I moved here when I was a teen. My father was in the army since we used to live back in Indiana. I used to go with him to camp, I loved everything about it. The respect those men held, the strong mentality they had, there’s was so much about what they were doing that made me see there was something greater to live for. To make this country better for us, so we can live and be peaceful and happy. There are way too many nasty people out there who don’t deserve to breathe our air. We are good people and I want to save the good people. It’s something serious, putting your life like that on the line. Unfortunately not all are willing.” 
Daisy smiles at him talking about his love for the military. She remembers her mother’s words at that moment. 
It really was in his heart, his love for humanity, “it’s in my blood, just like dad. I did training in New Jersey where he was stationed.” Mentions of his father makes him trail off for a second and Daisy notices. She places her hand on his, “and then they sent me back here for some additional work just until our physical forms go through to see who gets accepted. Who does leave in five days.” 
Daisy perks at this, “So you’re not actually certain if you will leave?” 
Bucky chuckles to himself and looks down. He reaches for another cookie, “Doll, my dad was well respected on the forces. They raised me to do the same. They practically have my name already there ready for me. I know I’m not staying.” 
Daisy stays silent again. Bucky tosses the cookie back down and reaches for her cheek. She gasps and looks up at him, her blue eyes soft, “I’m not saying this to make this harder. I’m being honest with ourselves, because,” he looks at her eyes and then her lips. She swallows hard when she sees him looking there. Her heart starts to race in his chest as he moves in closer, “because I know all we have is five days and I want to make the most of it. I’ve only known you for a few hours but what I feel with you is something I know will last forever.” 
The moment he says this he feels like he’s just put his heart own on his sleeve. Something he has never done. There was no taking it back now. He’s never had a relationship like this before, he prays to God he didn’t just mess it up. He starts getting afraid when she doesn’t respond, she just stares up at him. His eyes swell up slightly and he wants to add that it’s okay if she didn’t feel the same. 
But No. he didn’t not want to lose this. So he slides his hand from her cheek even higher up the side of her head through her hair and watching her, “Please tell me you feel the same.” His voice is low and full of emotion. Hopeful.
She’s never felt this. This had to be the boy of her dreams, and now she felt like the one that was dreaming all over again. Just three hours ago she never even knew this man existed, but all of a sudden she felt like she’s known him all her life.
She moves in closer and watches his Adam’s apple bobble up. The proximity was too much to bear. He was too much, and yet she wanted more. She wanted him.
And she only had five days. They had five days. 
And they were going to make the most of it. 
The moment her lips crashed onto his was a moment he wouldn’t forget. The fire that exploded inside of him was a bright red flame and it burned through his heart. Instinctively, he brings his other hand up as well and slides it to the other side of her face. She slides her left hand up his thigh and he growls against her mouth, their tongues meeting for the first time. It was fast, hard, and needy.
He raises himself up onto his knees so he’s towering above her still criss-cross body. Her hand raises up higher up his thigh and he feels her delicate fingers reaching in his waist band. He growls against her mouth once more.
She uses his belt loop to bring his body downwards as she uncrosses her legs and lays herself down onto his bed. Bucky’s right leg drops down the side of the bed and accidentally kicks the glass over. They’re lips still stay connected and he’s bringing his right hand to the strap of her dress, and now Ella’s voice sounds like a goddamn melody. 
He’s about to pull her strap further down but he stops himself. 
He pulls away and they’re both breathing heavily, Daisy whimpers at the distance he puts between their lips. The sound makes him want to go back to what he was doing, but he stops himself. 
She’s about to question him when he places her strap back against her clavicle. He pats it down gently and the act makes her laugh. His lips are swollen and she kisses them one more time. He moans into her mouth. She pulls away and lets him speak. 
“I want to know you, too.” He says. 
“We will. We have five days.”
 +  +  +
Her legs had curled up against her chest as she laid on her side, a single finger making soft patterns against his chest. It moved up and down sharply as his breathing became affected by what her touch was doing to him. He had stared down at her finger and then grabbed it diligently. She watched silently as he used his right hand to unfold her twirling fingers and fold it with his, holding it against his body. 
She looked up at him incomplete awe, her eyes drifting down to his approaching lips. He dipped his head just slightly as he brushed his lips against hers. 
They had stayed up all night talking about their goals, and what they loved to do. Daisy was a simple, innocent,, young girl. She loved dancing and flowers and she also admired the simplicity of innocence. She grew up in a Christian household and her morals were up there. They both laughed together when she brought up the fact that she never would’ve had thought she’d be cuddled in bed with a man she met only hours before. 
They commented about their families, how Bucky’s little sister had been taken away from him not too far back, about his mother’s death. 
“What about your father?” She had asked. 
Bucky remained quiet as he stared up at her. She noticed his change in demeanor and her eyes squinted. Bucky let go of her hand and switched his position from on his side to on his back. He brought his leg up and folded his hands on his chest.
He felt her shift and lean against him. He looked over and saw her resting on her elbow, her left hand drifting up his neck and into his hair. She pulled on it slightly making him close his eyes. 
“James.” She whispered, pleadingly. He opened his eyes and looking into hers. 
“He passed away,” he could tell she was going to start saying condolences as her mouth opened but he beat her to it, “this morning.” 
He thought she was going to start giving him sympathy, he expected it. But instead he felt her rest her head on his sturdy chest. He was taken aback at first, but then smiled softly and took in a deep breath. He allowed his hand to snake in through her soft blonde hair.  
“You’ll get through this. You’re strong.” He swallowed as he felt her hand skim against his chest, feeling him. He didn’t want to push her into anything and was thankful that her hand just went to his waist, pulling his body closer to hers, “I can tell.”
“I want to be with you. And when I get back from war, I want to be with you again.” 
+  +
She knew she was taking a risk by inviting him over to her house, but she had wanted him to meet her family. Sure this was fast, but how long did they truly have together? She obviously remembered the stories her mother told her.
Underneath the anxiety, love, and happiness she felt as he helped her mom cut the carrots, she genuinely hoped her parents would love him, too.   
“How long have you known this boy, Daisy?” Her mom had asked over her shoulder as she washed some lettuce and tomatoes in some cold water in a bowl under the sink. Daisy bit her lip. Her mom noticed her hesitate, “ Daisy .” 
Her tone was judging and all too motherly. Daisy looked up and saw her mom giving her a glare that quickly told her that she didn’t like where this was going. Daisy felt defensive. 
“Momma, before you judge me, he’s an amazing gentleman and I fully trust him with everything,” she saw her mom shaking her head to herself and murmur something but the sound of the sink water drowned it out. Daisy got up exasperated and walked over to her mom, “Think about it, when was the last time I brought a boy home? You know I don’t bring just anyone. You are going to love him.” 
Her mom smiled and looked over at her, shutting off the water.
“You are lucky I’m me and not your dang fatha’, Daisy.” She washed two more tomatoes, “Do you?”
Daisy gaped at her, not really know how to respond to that. To be fully honest she didn’t really think about it. When it came out while she was cuddly with Bucky earlier that day, it was natural and she hadn’t thought twice about it. But it seemed to soon to tell, but yet not fully impossible. She’d never felt the way she felt that when she was with Bucky. She felt heat creep up into her cheeks and her mom started to smile. The moment was interrupted by a strong voice.
“Love who?” 
Both Daisy and her mother’s face fell at the heavy tone that washed over them like pure ice. Daisy’s eyes drifted up to her dad who was standing in the door way. He held a cigar in his right hand, his leather covered foot tapping away. He eyed them both, clearly he was eavesdropping and was not liking where this conversation seemed to have been going.
Daisy gulped. She looked down and fidgeted with her fingers. 
“A boy, daddy.”
“Daisy invited him for dinner.” Her mom added casually, draining the water out of the bowl with her hands. The silence was deafening. Her dad could tell she was avoiding his gaze. 
He chuckled maniacally as he tapped his cigar with his pointer fingers, some ashes tickling towards the freshly mopped floor. Daisy watched as if it were poison. Suddenly, she was very fearful.
“Is that so?” 
Daisy nodded, finally looking up. Her dad looked serious, territorial even. 
“Charles, quit scarin’ her. I hear he could be the one.” Her mom winked at her. 
Her dad squinted angrily, “The one? And I’m just now hearing about this kid?” He walked over to his wife and rubbed her back soothingly, still giving Daisy a disapproving look, “and did I just hear love?”
Daisy groaned in aggravation, running her hands through her curls, “Mom, stop that.” Daisy sighed as she wiped her hands on her little dress and walked back over to the stool that sat on the far side of the large kitchen, “he’s a great guy. Daddy, I know that, it’s why I invited him today.”
“I just don’t get why I’m not meeting this damn boy.” 
Daisy flinched at his tone, “Daddy, please.” 
“Then explain it to me!” 
Daisy dropped her face into her hands, “I was just worried about you meeting him because he’s not the typical guy you go for. But I do care about him, please, just give him a chance. He’s very sweet.”
Daisy practically felt her father roll his eyes. She looked up and saw a snarl on his face.
A soft knock on the door and Daisy immediately flew out of her seat to open it. Her dad made a comment to Daisy’s mother about agreeing to this in the background, but Daisy was now momentarily too excited to care. She took a deep breath as her hand wrapped around the doorknob. 
She opened it and the moment her eyes landed on him, her heart went soaring and she literally felt herself smile. All the anger and fear she felt before dissipated. His reaction was mirrored to hers, his pearly whites making her blush hard. His gorgeous eyes wrinkled at the sides as he smiled. He looked perfect in a soft black suit, underneath it is a  white dress shirt, but the top button undone. His hair was in a small quiff and shiny from his pomade.
She extended her hand out to take his in hers and pulled him inside playfully hard. They both giggled together, Bucky’s face leaning down to kiss the top of her cheek. She hadn’t realized how hard she really pulled him until he stood right in front of her, their fronts touching. She was blushing as he stared down at her face and then her lips. 
He tilted his head slightly and started to lean down, and her eyes drifted shut, when the moment was interrupted but a cough.
“So you must be the boy Daisy won’t stop going on about.” 
Bucky pulled back, red tainting his cheeks. At that moment he realized he had just been caught almost wanting to devour this woman’s daughter’s mouth right in front of her.  He stepped back bit and straightened out his back and cleared his throat. 
He brought his one hand across his chest and with the other he extended it out for a handshake. No longer lust in his eyes, he was now completely serious, his mission being to impress a high class family. Her mom smiled at how charming he was.
“Mrs Davis.” Bucky greeted with a firm shake and smile.
She could tell by his strong handshake that he had been raised well. She exchanged looks with Daisy, who clearly looked terrified and expectant of what her reaction to him would be. She looks back at Bucky.
“Daisy never mentioned your name.”
“James, mamn.”
“That’s a strong name.”
Everyone looked up to follow the voice. Charles stood there tall and brooding, another cigar in hand. Bucky stretched out his arm once more, too eagerly this time, “Please to meet you, Mr. Davis.”
Bucky waited as Charles stared down at Bucky’s hand, not taking it and clearly not wanting to anytime soon. Bucky stood there awkwardly, fear and rejection creeping into his guts. He slowly lowered his arm, Charle’s gaze not leaving his face.
“You live on the upper east side, too? What’s your Street? You’re dressed like a damn paper boy.”
Bucky’s face fell immediately and Daisy inwardly groaned. 
Bucky licked his lips nervously and then fixed his back to stand taller as if to appear powerful. There was no way he was going to let this man tear him down. 
“No, sir,” He hates that his voice is shaky. He gives Daisy a nervous side glance and then back to her dad, “I live in Brooklyn, sir.”
Her dad frowned and both Daisy and her mother knew this was going to go down fast.
“Brooklyn,” his tone was disapproving, “What do you do for a living, boy?”
Daisy took a step next to Bucky, “Dad, that’s enough.” 
Bucky frowned and realized Daisy hadn’t really told them close to anything about him. While he understood, he was now dreading the whole entire conversation that would go down. Him and Daisy shared a look before Barnes looked back up at Charles.
“I’m in the military, sir.”
Her dad raised an eyebrow as soon as the words left his lips, then a scoff. Daisy looked up to his her mother’s face fallen and sad. 
Bucky’s eyes darted between Daisy and her father, suddenly realizing that something that he said was not good.
“Sir, was something I said -“
“Daisy, tell me hows a boy who doesn’t have a real job suppose to be with my daughter? A goddamn soldier? Jesus.”
“For heaven’s sake, Daddy!”
“Charles, stop that!” 
Daisy’s mother’s angry voice made everyone go silent at once. Bucky felt small, wanting to fade away into the ground below him.  
Charle’s scoffed, tossing his cigar at Bucky’s beat up dress shoes. It was the best pair he owned and even those were not his best. He swallowed hard, trying to not feel small and sad.  
“I’m gonna get Jimmy and then we can eat.”
Bucky stared down at the cigar at his feet, his heart feeling heavy. “A goddamn soldier”. 
It replayed over and over in his head.
Suddenly, he felt a comforting hand on his back. He looked up and saw Daisy staring down at him, sad.
“Just a goddamn soldier, Daisy?” He motioned upwards with his hand. “What is this?”
Daisy looked down, “James, that’s my father, okay? If anything, let’s just be glad he didn’t kill you. He’s like that with everyone.” That actually did help Bucky feel slightly better as he stood up taller. Daisy’s hand reached up as she cupped his cheek, “And the soldier thing, he’s weird about that. I’m not sure why.”
Bucky stared at her for half a second, doubting every word, before he simply complied and nodded. He smiled slightly. 
+ +
 The dinner was quiet and tense, and over much too slowly. Bucky had quickly pulled Daisy out into the hallway to say goodbye before he left, groaning into her mouth how he was never going back in there ever again. They both laughed and kissed.
And now here they were at the bar, the night before he had to leave. Bucky didn’t want to leave, because he had a feeling that this would be one of the last few days he would have any peace and serenity. His gut was twisting and turning as he played with the strand of her hair between his thumb and pointer finger. As his gaze drifted from her lips to her blue eyes he just knew deep inside that this is exactly the kind of feeling he wanted to be feeling for all of eternity.
He felt it when he touched her, when he looked at her, and when he held her in his arms. 
It was like a wave of fresh air that reminded him of home - Daisy was his new home. He knew it happened fast, they all did, but sometimes true love doesn’t have to be complicated. When its meant to happen, it just simply happens. It’s simple as that - as simple as him tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her that pearly white smile that made the cheeks on her face turn a crimson red.
She leaned her forehead onto his as he held her close by her waist, the piano in the background that was once haunting, now insanely beautiful exactly like the woman in front of him. 
When Bucky had told Steve he might ask her to marry him one day.
Those words Steve said kept ringing in Bucky’s head, even as he now held Daisy in his arms, but they meant absolutely nothing to him. She was his sanctuary, his now, and he would take it by the hand.
He would take advantage of these last few hours he had with her and he would pretend all is good in the world and it would stay that way. It had to.
He kept telling himself that so he, himself, could believe it. The truth was it was all going to go downhill, he could tell.
He knew that once he left for New Jersey tomorrow that he wasn’t going to automatically be drafted into war, there wasn’t a necessary need just yet. But his father had told him the speculations of how the US wanted to go after the Nazis, and he knew there was something else his father wasn’t telling him, and it would not be long before hell broke loose. 
That’s when Steve and all the others would eventually be even more so analyzed and drafted, and so would Bucky - without a doubt.
Sure, he was courageous. It wasn’t that he was scared to go, but he needed to be certain that Daisy would always be safe. He would surely miss the moments of having her in his arms, safe and happy. 
Softly, he took her left cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the top of her cheek bone,. He needed to take advantage of this moment that was staring them dead in the eye. He needed to. It didn’t matter how fast it was, how much he wanted to treat her preciously, and how much he respected her faith. He needed her. 
“Come to my apartment with me,” he noticed her gulp and her mouth opened slightly. Daisy’s mouth went dry and she watched his usual blue eyes turn a heavy grey.  Bucky smiled slightly, “I don’t want to seem like I’m making you do something you don’t want to, but I just…” his voice drifted off as his gazed dropped slightly. His eyes became clouded with disastrous visions of the future.  He blinked it quickly away, wanting to just see the image of Daisy underneath him. Just her and her pearly white skin and those gorgeous lips kissing him. 
At that moment Daisy knew exactly what he was asking.
She was a virgin and she had mentioned that to him when they started talking about the topic of her faith. She technically wasn’t supposed to be engaging in anything that was sexual before marriage to which Bucky simply nodded. At that moment, he decided he wouldn’t be too strong on her nor mention anything of his past sex life which would surely leave her blushing. He loved fucking.
But as she stared at him right then and there, realizing this could be the last moment where they’re both happy together and not  having to worry about anything, she wanted just exactly the same thing he did. She closed her eyes tightly together and leaned her face closer to his, giving him a deep and sexy kiss on his top lip, biting it as she pulled away. 
Bucky practically growled at her action, never seeing this side of her. Daisy was innocent, a classy lady, one that should always be treated as such. Sure, he knew of her passions for burlesque and lingerie (when she told him he had practically tried not to cum right then and there in his bed), but that was a dirty little secret that he concluded shouldn’t be mentioned out loud. She was always that beautiful, young, and morally behaved girl that stole his heart.
When she let go of his top lip, which was definitely throbbing now, he narrowed his lusty eyes at her and took it as a sign of acceptance.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly shaking the whole time he walked her to his dungy little Brooklyn apartment. He looked straight adorable in his little Italian flat hat and suspenders, his coat draped across one of his arms, the other holding her hand as he slid his key into all three locks of the door. 
She swore she could see him shake a little too when they had gotten inside and he put his coat on the tiny kitchen table and he turned to her. 
The room suddenly felt even smaller, the air between them hot and utterly thick. 
He eyed her up and down and swallowed hard. She wore a beautiful black dress that covered every single part of her that he now wanted to see exposed to him. 
Her lips were slightly red from the many kisses they shared on the way to the apartment, and her pinup eyeliner was so damn pretty as it shaped her eyes to perfection. She was damn gorgeous and she knew it. 
He slid off his dress shoes and then walked over to where she was standing. Her heart hammered away in her chest as his stunning blue eyes traced her body. The moment he finally stood before her, he realized he didn’t want to do with her what he did with every other girl.
He lifted his left arm to the side of her neck and watched her chest fall rapidly up and down. He grabbed her there lightly, and then slid it down the side of her body, eyeing the beauty that was simply her. 
“I’ll be gentle.”
He grabbed her right hand and pulled her along over to his bed. She looked down at him as he stared up at her, in awe and in love. She brought her hands to his face and touched his perfectly combed hair, smiling.
She stopped when he laid his hands over hers and brought it down between them. His face was now serious as he whispered, “Lay with me.”
He wanted to make love to her tonight. 
Did they and it was slow and tender. 
+ +
Bucky had told Steve he’d be back soon. It wouldn’t be too long - maybe a month, maybe even a few weeks. Bucky stepped onto the steam train and Steve and Daisy had stood next to each other as they waved him goodbye. The moment he sat down in his seat and the vision of the love of his life and his best friend became nothing but silhouettes, he threw his head back against his cold seat, taking a deep breath. He made a vow to himself that now was the time to make himself, his father, and his country proud. 
The only thing he wanted more than his girl was to save the lives of every person he possibly could. 
He took an additional deep breath, running a damp hand over his face. He stared up at the iron ceiling as the train swayed side to side and up and down over the slightly uneven tracks, making its way south.  
He fidgeted uncomfortably as each horrible made up scenario of what could happen when he arrived went through his mind. He wondered if the chief and sergeant would agree that he’d be as fitting as his father in taking his place and if he’d make the best soldier he always wanted to be. 
He took a deep breath and simply leaned his head against the glass. 
His blue eyes watched as the scenery of green and trees became the last of peace that he had a feeling he would feel for a very long time.
+ +
Wheaton, New Jersey
 The train ride wasn’t long; a little over an hour which was just enough time for Bucky to take his well-needed nap. When he had arrived at the station, he had noted the Jeep he was told that would pick him up along with two others who were on board. He didn’t even bother to meet up with them while onboard the train, wanting to take as much time to himself as he could, knowing it was probably his last opportunity.
The Jeep zoomed down a dirt road and through an intimidating metal gate. Bucky watched as young men ran around the perimeters, training intensely. Others were talking amongst each other as they took their break, sweaty bangs dangling onto their foreheads. 
They looked at him in curiosity as his car sped towards its destination, probably wondering what was so special about this guy that he had to get to where he was going so quickly. 
Suddenly, the car came to a heavy jolt and a hand slammed down beside him on his seat announcing their arrival. He jumped slightly at the intrusion but took a deep breath and opened the dingy door. 
As Bucky stepped off the jeep and into the dirty mud of his new camp, he knew he needed to find his uniform and combat boots as fast as he could. 
He stared down in a slight grimace at his freshly destroyed dressed shoes - he had just gotten them shined. He scoffed to himself and dragged it’s front against a random dry patch of grass trying to get off as much as he could. A young man jogged by, kicking some mud up onto Bucky’s new pants. Bucky looked on at the man as he ran, a look of anger written all over his face.  
From a distance (from beneath a random tent that provided cover for a rest area, Colonel  Douglas Smith watched in amusement the entire scene unfolding.
“This is Barnes’ son? The sniper?” He snarled under a grimace. He turned his head and gave Williams a disappointed look.
Another man -Williams- which sat to his left, looked towards Bucky’s direction over his daily newspaper. He watched on along with Douglas and smirked as Bucky looked around, lost. 
His eyes drifted to Smith and then back down at his paper,  giving it a slight smack, “Yes, sir.” humor tinted his voice heavily.
Smith shook his head in wonder as Bucky dusted off a piece of lint that was on his coat’s collar, “He better be right about this, or I swear to God.” 
Bucky’s eyes scanned his vicinity, eyes narrowing diligently. His eyes finally landed on someone who seemed to be who he should be looking for, judging by their attire and posture of authority. Also, the fact that they had been looking at him first.
“He seems too pretty to be as good as they say.”
“His father says he is the best.”
Colonel Smith eyes Bucky up and down as he made his way over, sporting his new suit and fresh suspenders. As soon as he reached the two men, Bucky nodded at each one and took off his Italian flat hat, tucking it into his armpit revealing a perfectly groomed gorgeous head of hair drenched in pomade. 
He reached out with his right arm for the Colonel to shake with a bright smile on his face, “James Barnes.”
“Colonel Douglas Smith,” he nods over to the man sitting down who seems very busy jotting something down, “This is Sergeant William of the one-oh-third.”
“Colonel. Serg.” Bucky confirms with a nod to each.
“Sit, boy.” Colonel demands with a motion of his hand in front of him. Bucky politely abides as he pulls out a chair to sit himself down. Bucky places his hat down in front of him and takes a deep breath, “First, I’d like to give you my condolences.”
Bucky momentarily stalls as his eyes drift back and forth between both men, but then clears his throat nodding, “Thank you, Sir.”
“Your father was a great man. Quite a fighter used to say he raised you from young to be the same way.” Colonel eyes Bucky up and down. Bucky gulps, finally feeling the pressure he had been slightly dreading from the beginning. He knew they were expectant of him, and now he was here to prove it and he wasn’t sure he had the balls of steels he had one day ago, “That true?”
Bucky clears his throat, “Yes, sir.” He leans down to reach into his briefcase and pulls out a beige file. He puts it onto the table and slides it across to Colonel. Smith is impressed by his promptness and professionalism and sees William smile from his peripheral. 
“What’s this?”
Bucky clears his throat once again, “Dad trained me for many things,” he took a brief glance around the base, “I experienced boot camp at the age of fifteen. I’ve done long races, obstacle races, everything that tested my endurance, boxing, running- both in the rain and scorching heat. I’ve bled, I’ve learned not to cry and hold my own. I know tactics, I know what it takes to be a soldier, sir,” Bucky notes their faces still hold no expression of amazement he was looking for and he feels his palms sweating harshly, “My father did it so I knew how to be strong and prepared for when the time was right.” 
Colonel Smith crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, not yet touching the paper in front of him. Bucky looked on in simple embarrassment from Smith to his folder, wondering if it was pointless to show as much pride as he did.
 Smith’s strong voice makes Bucky jump when he starts talking, “You think that because you’ve trained since you were a young boy, but clearly have no experience being on the front line, that you are an American Soldier?” 
 Bucky automatically becomes defensive and his posture becomes confident. He didn’t like the nagging, the accusation of something he was not. That’s when he realized, he needed to prove himself. He was good, and they wanted to see it. 
He leans closer to the table and crosses his hands out in front of him, “No, sir, of course not. Not yet,” His voice was strong and clear. The colonel sat there waiting for what Barnes had to add, “I have no experience yet with being in a war, not yet. But I have other experiences, first-hand experience.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“Guns.” Both Smith and William now give Bucky their full attention, looking straight at him in total interest. Smith even moves up closer to Bucky.
Bucky is almost one hundred percent more confident now than he was ten minutes ago because now he’s finally talking about something he knows he can own up to well. This he enjoyed immensely.
“Sure. Your file we have here does show you are good with targets, that you know what weapon is best for what, that you helped your father when it came to assembling and reassembling them for the troops, and that you are great at knowing the anatomy of a gun but many here can do that with intense training. What do you have that the others here don’t, James?”
The colonel was pressing now, and Bucky at that moment realized that what he was doing was not because he didn’t see a reason to not trust Bucky, but more so so he could prove himself, and this was his chance. 
Bucky looked Colonel Smith straight in the eye with a snarl. He slammed one finger down on the table in front of them, “I’m not just good with targets. I hit them all.”
“I do not miss. This file,” Bucky again slams his finger down on the folder in front of them, “There are diagrams, spreadsheets, rough drafts, charts, and all my grades for every algebra, geometry, physics, and trigonometry class I’ve ever taken. All As. It also includes my use of Pythagorean theorems.” Colonel raises an impressed brown and opens the file. His mouth is slightly agape as he reads on what is pages and pages of mathematical equations, transcriptions, and each a different weapon usage. 
For a cocky good looking guy, Bucky was clearly very very intelligent - a closet nerd.
“I might no be a soldier yet, but I’m already a good fucking sniper.” 
William and Smith are smiling now as they see Bucky in the way they wanted to, “Look, I’ll go out there tomorrow if you need me to. Sure, I’m a kid, but that just means I have the time to learn more. I’m ready to fight.” 
Colonel stares at Bucky for a beat. He nods, takes the folder in his hands, and stands up. Bucky looks up at him, “You will be here to assist Serg. William and I. And then we’ll see where we take you from there. We want a hard-headed kid here to help get these other guys in order.” His voice was softer now as he spoke on, “Soon, we’ll be out there in the real world and I feel you’ll do fine, kid. Your health record looks great, I saw your previous training records here at the base and they are impeccable,” 
“Thank you, sir-“
“but,” Bucky swallows hard. Smith hands the file over to William, “We want you to focus on shooting. And train these damn ass kids that this isn’t just a game. William will escort you to your temporary quarter.” 
 Bucky nods and stands up, a wide grin on his face as Smith initiates the handshake this time, “Good luck, Kid.”
+ +
That's how he spoke to her for two years. He missed her, he missed Steve, and he missed school. He missed Brooklyn, but he missed her most of all. She was everything he had ever wanted and more. 
They refused to lose touch, but it seemed to have gotten harder the longer he spent time away from her. He almost started forgetting what it was she looked like and he did not like that at all. 
He hoped more than anything that she didn’t forget what he felt like, what his cock felt like the inside of her pretty self. God, he missed her so much. 
He’d be laying down in the bunker after one of her letters where she’d admitted that she missed all of his body, and suddenly he’d find himself a panting mess, a hand wrapped around himself. No other women in his life made him cum as much as she did. She was perfect.
Dad has been gone for four weeks and I don’t know why. Jimmy has gone with him- it’s just me and mother. I overheard her saying something about Germany but I’m not quite sure.. Or maybe it was something else. Though none of that matters to me, James- I want you. Please come home to me.
He would pick up his pen and start writing.
 I’ll be home soon, my love. I want and miss you, too. 
For some reason, a chill ran down his back as he reread the words “something about Germany”. 
Like an awful memory that has never happened, he sees a child in front of him. It was a little girl and she screamed in agony for mercy. She was getting strangled to death by his own hand, a silver glint caught his eye- 
Bucky jumped up looked upfront his lap from where he was writing to see Williams looking at him in curiosity, waiting. 
“Be right there, Sergeant.” 
Take care of Stevie for me, Daisy. Be careful, both of ya. 
Much love,
+ +
He’s standing in front of the men, showing them how to correctly calculate the wind and kickback of a PPSh-41. Ten iron cans laid on the grass as Bucky allowed his gun to swing back towards him. He smirks and slides it back into place in the holster around his waist. 
“Johnny, you’re up.” Bucky would announce each boy’s turn until they’ve all managed to hit all targets. Some of them taking more thirty tries each to succeed.
As much as he’d try and teach them how to properly shoot each and every gun they had on hand, it was evident that they’d never be as good as him.
But there were good in other aspects, some of which actually reminded him of Steve back at home.
“Faster.” Bucky would demand as he walked in front of them as they did fifty push-ups each. He knew they could handle it.
Williams and Smith watched from afar as Bucky’s men eventually became some of the strongest and most courageous they’ve seen in a long time. 
They shared a knowing look and Smith gave a small nod.
Bucky’s gaze drops from the men he’d grown to love down to his feet. He didn’t expect to be there for two years. He didn’t think he would go that long without seeing Daisy, but they ended up loving having him there.
 Within weeks he had the entire infantry under his finger. At first, he wasn’t too keen on yelling at them at what to do and how to do it, but with time he realized it was for their best and they realized that too. He was actually not a complete asshole when it came to bossing everyone around, but to be fair it mostly had to do with the fact that they were all not too much younger than him either, some even older. 
+ +
It had been Friday night when Bucky had everyone in their bed by 8 o clock, without a complaint or disobedience.
Bucky sat in his little office under the vintage desk light as he was reading one of Daisy’s latest letters, where she spoke about how her father had come home briefly but was quickly leaving for Siberia within a few weeks and how much she was dying to hold Bucky back in her arms again. 
She kept begging and begging him non stop. 
Bucky’s face was crestfallen as he wrote back that he promised he would be back, and that he had to talk to her about something special when he saw her again for the first time.
Truth was, he was going to ask her to marry him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her even if it was from such far away. Bucky was tucking the letter into the envelope when someone cleared their throat from his left.  
His head snapped and he smiled when he saw it was colonel Smith.  
“Bucky, mind if we speak for a second.” Bucky nodded his head and tucked the letter in his back pocket. The colonel noted this with a nod, “That for the lady?”
Bucky smiled slightly, although it was also sad, “Yeah. Miss her,” 
Colonel patted a hand on his shoulder, “I know, kiddo.” 
They were about to go into Colonel’s office when Smith turned around. Bucky practically walked into him, not expecting him to stop so suddenly in his path. Bucky’s face was serious and he felt worried at the tension that quickly grew, “What is it, Colonel?”
Contemplating before speaking, he looked over Bucky’s shoulder, “The men love you,” 
He looked back at Bucky, “You’re good. Really good.”
Bucky should’ve been proud of his words (he was slight) but he could tell something was going on. Smith’s tone and his eyes were off, something was clearly up. 
“What’s going on?”  
The colonel looked down. It looked like for a second that he was going to back out on telling Bucky. But clearly this wasn’t something anyone could control anymore, “They want them in.”
World War II had merely started about a little over a year ago. Nazi Germany was at its peak and troops were being sent out constantly. Bucky knew there were several infantries being sent in, along with the heavy draft. Bucky had spoken to Steve back at home and Steve kept mentioning about the guys all being deployed out, but not all. They were still trying to recruit more as time came, seeing who was eligible and who wasn’t. Bucky tried to convince Steve as much as possible to quit trying to join the army, to stop lying on his forms to get accepted.  
At their base, they were training until they were to be pulled out.
And now was the time.
“But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” 
Bucky’s heart plummeted for a fraction of a second.  He wondered what else he possibly had to say. 
Colonel turned into his office and allowed Bucky to follow behind. Bucky closed the door behind him, reluctantly and with a hard swallow. 
“There’s a group being deployed in two days. To England, the one-oh-seventh.”
Bucky’s heart jumped into his throat. Pride filled deep within his gut and he tried to contain as much excitement as he could. 
Smith went around his desk, “We agreed that you’re more than suitable to be deployed as well. So you’ll be with them.”
Bucky smiled. It was finally his time. It wasn’t just his men, but him as well.
“A couple of weeks. The week before you’ll be allowed one week at home to see your friends,” Colonel looked at the letter that was peaking out behind him, “and your girl.” Bucky felt like he was going to cry from excitement at this point. Colonel’s face was still serious, “we want to assign you as an official Sergeant.”
The earth seemed two have shifted for a moment while Bucky processed the words. He couldn’t believe they would want him to serve at that level. Bucky’s brows raised in surprise as he stood motionless.
A soldier he always knew he would become one day, it was practically in his blood, but “Sergeant?” 
“Yes, sir.” Smith crossed his hands out in front of him and stared up at Bucky, hopeful, “I knew the moment you started talking that you were different. You’re good, you’re loyal, you’re a true born soldier just like your father always said you were. You wouldn’t dare lay a hand on something unless they were worth it. You know how to take charge and you’re willing to be on the front line.”
That same image of a tormented child being strangled to death by a hand flicker’s through his mind's eye, except now the kid is thrown against a brick wall, completely deceased.
Bucky swallows hard, “My men, they will be with me?” He knew the answer because he was already told upfront but Smith but he needed to be sure. He needed to know all of them would be there by his side when he killed Schmidt.
“Yes. Drafting starts soon, son. You’ll be home for a little bit to say goodbye.” Smith smiled, “Go get your girl.”
+ +
He’d made sure all their beds were made before they all left to say goodbye to their loved ones one last time, and he made his as well. What good Sergeant would he be if he weren’t the best example if he were a hypocrite?
He hadn’t told Steve nor Daisy that he was coming home- wanting it to be a surprise. He stepped off the train, a tailored uniform, his new Sergeant cap on his head, and a pin on his left chest. He was ready. 
A sharp wind blew in from the west, making him frown slightly in pain. The January air burned him like fire but yet gave life at the same exact time. This was reality and it was like a slap to the face. He was here to say goodbye. 
Bucky had grabbed a paper from the boy at the train station and saw something about Howard Stark’s Expo and he felt like a little boy all over again. He loved Howard Stark, to be frankly honest he was quite a nerd for it. Not only did he make the best weapons that Bucky would love to have his hands on one day, but he also loved how smart and genius he was. How he was never afraid to reach the unreachable and to do what no one else had the guts to. He would kill to meet him one day and just tell him how amazing he was.
So he had to go to his expo before he left. He was ready to see his best friend and his girlfriend and that’s exactly who he was going to go with.
Bucky had been walking excitedly from the train station to Steve’s house, but he was not expecting to see him getting beaten up by a gentleman in an alley outside a theatre. 
Anger blew up inside of Bucky as he ran towards the scene, “Hey!” He called out, grabbing both of their attention. 
When Steve saw Bucky his eyes lit up. 
Bucky grabbed the bully by his collar and kicked his ass while Steve watched from the corner of the dirty alley. 
“I think you like getting punched.” 
Bucky said as he helped Steve off the floor. 
“I had him on the ropes.”
Bucky decided not to comment any more on how Steve needed to lay off and instead wanted to spend the last few hours he had with his best friend and his girl. He told Steve about how he was sergeant now for the 107th and that he was leaving for England in the morning the next day. 
But he was also excited to share with Steve the one thing that Steve knew Bucky loved the most - Stark. When Bucky pulled out the newspaper that showed the expo that was happening that night, Steve notices the fanboy smile written all over his face. He couldn’t wait to pick up Daisy so they could all go.
When Bucky and Daisy saw each other for the first time, he had spun her around so hard her dress spun with her. Bucky kissed her so hard and she cried as she told him how much she missed him. 
Steve just stared back in boredom. 
“Are we going, or…?”
They both giggled and Bucky punched him playfully on the shoulder, “Come on, punk.”
The three of them walked into the expo. Steve was looking around in awe while Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as he held Daisy’s hand. She wore a beautiful dark drey below-knee dress and brown leather oxford heels and her lips were coated in the most beautiful shades of red. 
It was everything Bucky had ever dreamed of. Stark literally blew his mind, especially when he brought out the beautiful to die for women and then make a car fucking fly. Even if it was for just a second.
Bucky’s heart soared.
Daisy looked up at him wonder and she watched his face light up in pure happiness. She didn’t know someone could be so beautiful and that she could love someone so much. She raised her right hand up to his face as a firework went off behind his head in the sky. It was blue - the same shade of his eyes. 
He wasn’t expecting that gesture from her at that moment, so when he felt her soft little fingers on the side of his face, he snapped his head down to look at her. Her smile faded as he gave her a look of pure want.
She traces his lips with her thumb and leaned her head down on his chest. Her heart soared even more as he brought her to him in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of her head and then told Steve that they should call it a night.
Steve gave Bucky a tight hug and told him to be safe. 
“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Bucky warned him with a smile.
When Steve split ways with the couple at his door, he knew exactly what they were up to. He was happy for his best friend, he just hoped they weren’t too emotionally involved more than anything. He didn’t want to see Bucky get hurt.
He looked at his best friend with a weird sorrow. He wasn’t sure why something in his gut was telling him that this happiness, this simpleness, was going to be very short-lived. 
+ +
When they had gotten back to his apartment, he had her against his door and his lips were on hers.
This was it.
 Snippets of that flash of that dead child kept hitting Bucky over and over as he kissed Daisy up against his door. 
He tried to get rid of those images as much as possible as he grabbed her gorgeous legs, pulling them around his waist.  
That seemed to have done the job perfectly because he felt himself growing hard for her. 
“Please.” She pleaded desperately over his lips. He pulled away from her for a second and just stared at her beautiful face trying to take it all in. Reality hit them like a truck as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. This was goodbye, for a while. 
He leaned in slowly, and this kiss was different. It was love and care, and so much need. A need for forever. He felt tears building behind his lids as the thought of never getting the chance of holding her like this ever again tried to take over his brain. She tightened her legs around him, her hands going to the straps of his belt.
“God, I missed you, Daisy,” He moaned against her mouth. He brought his right hand between her legs, pushing her panties to the side. He slid one finger from her clit down her slick slit and her head fell back with a thud against his door. She groaned out loud at the sensation that wracked through her body, “Missed the sounds you make. I love you so much.” He growled against her.
She ran her hands through his hair and pulled his face away from her neck to kiss him deeply again. She nodded against him as her hips met the rhythm of his hand, confirming that she felt the same way. 
“Please take me, James.”
He walked them over to his bed and gently laid her down. She stared up at his lustful eyes, her lips swollen from his kiss, and her dress bundled up at her waist.
Bucky didn’t waste two seconds to pull it off her. Next, she helped him pull off his uniform jacket and shirt, revealing his gorgeous abs that she wanted to lick over with her tongue. 
Next, she removed his pants. 
She slowly tucked her fingers into the underside of his underwear as she bit her lip. It was obvious that she was teasing him. 
“Just take it off.” He ordered. 
She did as told and practically whimpered as his hard cock was revealed to her. She sat up and reached behind herself to unclasp her bra. 
When he saw her perky breasts, he leaned down and kissed her once more. The first time they had sex it was different. It was innocent and timid, but now that he knew her body and she wasn’t so shy anymore, it was more carnal. The first time was about opportunities and their future. 
But this, this felt like goodbye.
“I can’t wait, Daisy. I need you.” He confessed as he laid her down all the way. She nodded against his understanding.
He stretched out his left hand to hold onto the headboard while the other grabbed his pulsing shaft. She spread her legs and he slid into her with a long moan. 
He looked down at her and watched as she arched her neck back in pleasure, the nails of her left hand digging into his sides.  
“Faster.” She moaned. 
The other thing that was different about this time was how fast it was. The first time it lasted for almost an hour, they had made love in the most sensual way that left his skin crawling. This time they were both so close so fast, they just needed that release due to being away from each other for so long. 
She was practically screaming as he fucked her fast and oh so deliciously into the bed below her. It was so good that after only a few minutes she was looking down at the spot where they both met, her lips formed into a perfect o. 
She started nodding quickly. She cried. Bucky groaned as he twitched inside of her, his pleasure growing just as strong as hers. He was right behind her. He put his other arm up on the headboard too, letting his restless hips do all the work. 
All that was heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping on skin and their moaning.
He picked up his pace as he stared deeply into the blue orbs. When she shut her eyes she let out a silent scream, and he felt her clench around his cock. 
That did it for him. He whimpered. 
He increased his speed until he felt his own end approaching, and it was going to be strong. When it did, he groaned, tightening his grips on the headboard, making it bang against the wall behind them.  He continuously slammed his hips harsh against her.
“Fuck.” He groaned slipping out of her. She watched in awe and as he stroked himself so fast his hand became a blur - little spurts of white falling over her pretty tummy.  
His eye drifted back to her face and he watched as a smile played on her lips. Her face was extremely flushed as she bit her bottom lip in a way that made him want to take her again. He chuckled lightly. It made his heart heavy, and he knew that now was the perfect time to ask her what he had been wanting for the last two years.
He let go of the bed and laid himself next to her. He placed his left hand above her hand and the other on the side of her face.  They watched each other in complete love before he kissed her long and hard.
When he pulled away, she felt him slightly shaking and noticed the look of nervousness in his eyes. She swallowed hard.
“Daisy,” he whispered. He traced her features with his hand, and just like that the fear escaped his eyes, and instead of scared he was now feeling complete love and he was ready because knew this is what he wanted forever. 
+ + 
Diamond ring on her hand, big heart in his chest, Bucky Barnes had been ready to devote his life her and to love.
Life had other plans for him. 
Why be a husband when he could be brainwashed into becoming the Head of Hydra? 
Why love with his heart and soul when he could kill and become the world’s greatest assassin?
They’re at the New York Library. Steve stands behind him, hands in pocket and eyebrows furrowed together.
70 years later, Bucky detests himself for who he has become. He hates it all. He hates that he woke up.
His hand trembles as he reads the article. It’s worn out, ink faded.
Reason unknown, ongoing investigation
The blonde 21 year old was found shot through the skull in the five story building but an other woman after a shot was heard. 
The woman states: “There was blood everywhere. It reeked of disaster. The poor girl was always so quiet and sweet.”
Her family has been under investigation after her father’s disappearance —
Bucky’s heart shattered, but those beautiful memories still stayed fresh in his mind.
You watched him from underneath your lashes as his chest slowly moved up and down. He looked deep in thought, as if his mind had been somewhere else, even though he was physically there. 
As his eyes examined you across the bed, you wondered what was going through his head. 
You were shocked when he stretched out his arm and you felt his hand run through your hair, letting his thumb linger over the back of your neck. 
“What does it mean?” He asks. His voice is deep and filled with emotion. 
He’s asking about your tattoo.
“Nothing.” You say breathlessly. 
His eyes were enthralling. 
“There’s no meaning?” 
“No.” You eyes leave his and you look out towards the direction of the dining area.
“Why did you get it?” He asks.
“It was in the moment. It felt like it would be thrilling; fun. The thought of forever made it even more so.” You say without a thought, letting your eyes close.
His hands don’t leave the back of your neck, and his touch remains gentle.
“You’re absolutely insane.” His tone has a chirp to it that you’ve never heard before and a near chuckle escapes your chest. He rubs his thumb there again it sends a jolt into your stomach. You open your eyes again to take a peak at him and the looks he’s giving you must’ve triggered something in your own appearance because his eyes furrow together, “What?”
“You reminded me of someone.”
He swallows thickly.
“Will.” You feel your throat grow tight at the mention of his name. Bucky senses a change in your tone and he knows that whoever this Will is, he had an impact on your life, “He died just a few days before Fury found me. He was my best friend. He was sweet, humble, funny, sarcastic, optimistic,” there’s a crack in your voice and Bucky’s breath hitches, “I loved Will. He was supposed to be here with me. We were coming to the Capitol together.” Bucky watches you intently as you speak so fondly of your dear friend. Emotions consume him and he’s in a warped daze, right hand that had been on your tattoo running up the side of your face and into your hair, “he was the only friend I ever had.”
Your eyes meet his and he sees in the tears in your eyes. He looks at you confused, fingers tightening in your hair.
“And then after I laid him to rest, I walked into the woods. I was crying and I was angry at him for leaving me. I fell down at slope, hurt my hand and my leg —” Bucky says your name quietly but you ignore him, “it was dark. I was afraid. But I wanted to continue on. Deep down I know I did. I needed to do it for Will. Then this man came and he was going to ruin everything, so I killed him. I had to,” it’s the first time you’re addresses your killing so verbally and so emotionally and it affects you more than you thought, “I had to kill him.” Bucky watches with concern as your fingers tremble against the sheets, “And then Fury found me and took me to your camp. I met Steve, and then I met you.”
Bucky pulls his hand away moments later. 
You both lay there in silence. It’s the most you’ve spoken to each other since the night he first fucked you. 
After you had sex in the kitchen, you both had separated quietly, going your separate ways until night time. You both slept on opposite sides of the bed and a couple feet apart.
It wasn’t even that it was awkward. There’s was just too much unsaid and still too much tension. You kept falling harder and harder, and you were getting weaker.
The next day you had gone to work and Bucky had found a plan to get into Ashen’s tower. 
A day later, you finally spoke again.
At nights it was the hardest. You hated his sudden silence.
You hated that you had no idea what the hell was going on anymore.
Your eyes met in an intense gaze. 
Bucky watched curiously as your left hand grazed over the sheets and up over his waist. You watched as his breath hitched, his breathing picking up. 
“What the hell are we doing, Bucky?” You asked sincerely. 
Part of you genuinely wondered if he was only doing this with you because you were the only girl available. 
“Fucking.” He spats out too quickly. He continues to watch you as tug your fingers into the band of his dark grey sweats, “we’re fucking.”
You feel a surge of energy build its way up your body. You don’t know if it’s lust or anger, and it scares you that you can’t distinguish it. You begin to wonder if possibly it’s both.
You move closer into him dragging his sweats down as best as you could. Bucky had to help you by lifting his hips off the bed for a second. He lets out a long breath as his length escapes the confinements of his pants. 
Your heart hurts as you take in his glorious body and his face. The face of a boy that you wished could give you more than this, the face of a boy that changed your life. 
Because even though he was pure man, you knew deep down inside he still felt young. He felt robbed. You hated that you wanted to take him in any way you could. You hated that you loved making him cum and that he let you.
Eyes darting down to his half soft cock, you lick your bottom lip. You take him into your hand, thumb sliding over his tip. Bucky lets out a tight moan. It comes out heavy and needy.
His reaction gives you a boost and you give him a few languid strokes. 
“Over the head, and under it.” He tells you with a gruff. You do as told, watching as pre cum oozes out of his hole. Bucky groans, stretching his right leg out. He mumbles something you can’t make out. Your look up to see him quickly lick his hand and the replace yours with his own over his growing dick, “Like this.” He curved it up towards his body and he teaches you how to stroke. You watch amazed as his flesh hand moves over his cock, noting how where his thumb and pointer finger meet focuses on the edge of the mushroom tip.
You put your hands over his and he lets himself go, letting you take charge again.
The feel of his saliva on your palm over his cock is filthy. Dirty. Fucking sexual.
You mimic his actions from earlier for about a minute until you decide to lick a strip up the underside of his shaft.
You hear him gasp underneath you and a heavy hand meets the back of your head. You look up at him timidly and he’s looking down at you. He looks as sinful as ever. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth is agape. You can’t tell if it’s the pleasure you’re giving him or if he’s shocked. 
It kills him how innocent you look with your head between his legs. Your lashes are so long and pretty and, oh, your lips look small plush too. You keep eye contact as you flick the tip of your tongue over his tip and a whine escapes his throat. You do it again, and again.
“Oh my god.” He moans. You take him into your mouth little by little, careful to not let your teeth scrape him. 
You bob your head up and down, your right hand stroking what you can’t take down your throat.
You feel his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift pony tail and you groan around him. 
“Fuck.” He gasps at the vibrations. One of his hands leave your head but the other stays there, helping you; guiding you.
You sit up up until your butt is in the air, with him still in your mouth, and your place your hands on his thighs. You take a deep breath, and he watches as you lower your head down his cock, as deep as it could go. 
The chocking sounds are erotic to both your ears.
Bucky is breathing harder now and he takes your head in both of his hands, running his fingers gently down the sides as he slides you up and off his cock. 
When your eyes meet, his looks lust blown. His gaze is briefly on your now swollen lips, and then he composes himself, hands going down to the hem of your white camisole dress.
He helps you pull it off in one go followed by your underwear. As soon as it’s off your feet you go to sit up when he stops you.
He grabs your pillow and places it behind you. You sit back. Bucky gives your body a hungry look as he grabs each of your knees, bending your legs up. He gives them a shove away from each other.
You feel exposed and naked and you know he can see just how soaked you are. You whimper as he slides to fingers up your bare and freshly shaved folds. He lets out his own moan as he gathers your juices onto the tips of his fingers, smearing them over your clit.
Shocked, you watch as he leans down until his front is almost perpendicular to the bed. He kisses the inside of your thigh, nibbling it as he makes his way to your center.
You feel his hot breath against your cunt as he tells you to put you to grab his head.
In a euphoric daze, you do as you’re told. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he licks your clit. You feel two of his fingers spread your lips and then he’s licking at you, feeding on you like you’re his favorite meal.
You groan, shoving his head closer to your pussy. 
“Oh, shit.” You moan when he enters two flesh fingers into your as he sucks on your bundle of nerves.
Your left leg kicks out as he sucks and sucks. You’re breathless as you look down, the sigh of his head between your thighs being the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Oh, god.” You say. 
He looks up at you and you’re gasping. His eyes don’t leave yours as he continues to fuck you with two fingers, the tip of his tongue now flicking at you like mad.
You let out a heavy groan, your head tossing backwards in pleasure.
You feel him pull away and you whimper at the loss of feeling. You feel him grab the side of your waist and he’s pulling you against him until he’s back into the same position he was before. 
Bucky leans over the side of the bed and goes into his night stand. You don’t know how to feel when you see him grab a box of condoms.
Did he buy that? Did he know he didn’t want it to be just a one time thing? He didn’t want it to be a one time thing?
You rips box and tosses almost angrily, and when he’s got the foil in his hand, he tears the edge with his teeth.
He slides the condom over his dick and then gently grabs your arms.
“I’ve never…” you stutter as you sit on his lap.
“I know you haven’t, i’ll teach you.” He slides you up and down over his cock, coating it with your slick. You’re leaned over him gasping and he’s grinning his teeth, “You can ride my cock, can’t you?” He purrs up at you so deliciously you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from whimpering, “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum. I want us to cum together.”
Your movements quicken as his words turn you on. He takes himself in his hand and rubs his tip up and down over your slit before finally pushing into your heat.
You both groan simultaneously. The pleasure is mutual and you both feel full and satisfied, for the first time. He’s gasping, both hands taking a hold of each side of your face.
He hates what this has become. He hates that his emotions are at an all time high right now.
His eyes look into yours as you move up and down and he remembers why he was so afraid of loving again.
As you move over him, he knows he wouldn’t be able to handle it if something bad were to happen to you. As you fuck yourself on his cock, he knows he can’t fall down that rabbit hole again. He tried so hard to make you hate him and yet here you were, letting him fuck you.
You couldn’t like him. Not emotionally and not physically. It was for your own good. He was bad news, he knew he was.
Everything he touched always got destroyed. It always died.
He was cursed.
Your cunt gives him a perfect squeeze and he shouts.
“God, Y/N.” He cries, grabbing your hips and driving you down faster and harder. 
He bends his legs and the sound of your skins hitting echoes around the loft. 
Your hand goes to your pussy and you rub yourself furiously.
“Oh yeah.” You moan. He moans back in response, his own hips lifting off the bed to fuck into you.
He tells you to rest your hands on the pillow next to his head and you do so.
He grabs your hips and starts ramming up into you.
Looking down, his face is only a few inches from yours and you wished you could kiss him. You wonder if he can see past your lie of just wanting him for sex. You wanted so much more than an orgasm.
He was killing you.
With one of his ruthless trusts, he hits that spot inside of you that makes you see sparks and you feel your end approaching.
You’re breaths come out of your nose in sharp huffs, fingers curling into the pillow case. 
You scream when he leans himself up, taking the side of one of your breasts into his mouth. His nibbles you with a growl.
You know he’s getting close too because his eyebrows are tight together and there’s a thin sheet of sweat over his body.
You cum beautifully over his dick. You know you’re probably shouting but you don’t care because there is absolutely nothing that could ever feel better than this. He helps you drag it out and he rams into you and you look down to see his eyes tightly closed. 
You rub a thumb over the tops of his left cheek.
“Cum for me.” You whisper.
His mouth gapes open and he gives you a few more strong thrust before they start to falter. He lets out a loud and animalism grunt, followed by a slap to your right ass cheek.
You’re both panting as you collapse on top of him.
+  +
The building’s security infrastructure was a lot less advanced than Bucky had planned for, which was a great thing. He half expected to have to divert more cameras and more security. Especially for a Hydra centre. 
Or maybe he was just that stealthy. 
He had commenced his part of the mission earlier in the afternoon than he usually did, but that was because he wanted to see if he could catch Ashen this time. 
Just as planned, at three forty five sharp, Ashen and three other man came in through the main entrance. 
Bucky, having come in through a weak and dingy window across the building, watched from afar as they took the elevator. On cue, Bucky took the door to the stairwell. 
He made it quickly to the seventieth floor until he hear the familiar voice. Waiting until it was far enough and he could no longer hear anything, Bucky stepped out into the hallway.
He makes sure to avoid directly sight of any cameras he sees along the way. So many years as the world’s most dangerous assassin gave him the stealth and experience needed to do it successfully. He would go undetected.
The building was modern and gorgeous. There were glass panels and long hallways. Bucky followed the men from a safe distance until they finally walked into a room, closing the door behind them. Bucky tried to maneuver as best as he could without being seen. 
When he turned he saw something that left him stunned.
It was a medical bay, expect that there was just one bed.
He could see Ashen and those few men, who were now adorning lab coats.
What caught Bucky off guard was the little boy laying in the bed, unconscious. There were several tubs and IVs coming in and out of his little body. He was a strange color, almost light green. Ashen sat next to the boy, sad.
Bucky watched carefully as Ashen took the little boy’s hand in his.
“Hey, kiddo. Daddy got you a gift this time. It’s not the usual one you like, but I figured you’d still love it.” Bucky watched as Ashen pulled something out of his suit pocket. It was a Hershey kisses. Ashen placed it on the bed, “You need to wake up, buddy. It’s the only thing left before we can figure this out. Please, Ashens.”
Bucky’s heart sunk as the kid’s father’s head dropped down onto the bed. His hand ran over his head, the other continued to hold onto Ashens’ hand.
“Sir?” One of the men in the lab coats speaks.
“Yes?” Ashen responds.
“We can hold him on the machines for a few more months, but if things don’t start to look up —-”
“I don’t want to hear it. He will wake up. He will stay on the machines until I say otherwise.” He snaps, “We already have Stark technology being detected within the walls, we can’t afford to lose guard now. We are getting closer!”
“He’s my son!” He shouts.
Bucky starts to back away when he hears someone about to turn the corner. He hides behind one of the walls that lead into a room until the close is clear. He finds his way back the way he came.
He needed to find you.
+  +  +
“Pour me a Knob Creek on the rocks, sweetheart.” The man slurs, giving you a nod towards drinks behind you.
You tried not to groan as you gave him a fake smile. You quickly poured him the drink and slid it across the bar to the douchebag who wouldn’t stop eyeing you like a piece of meat.
“I’ll have the same.”
A voice says on the opposite side. You look over and you feel fear creep up in your bones.
You nod, hands shaking as pour his drink.
He watches you closely.
“You nervous about something?” He asks.
You let out a shaky chuckle.
“No.” You say bluntly.
You slide him the drink and he takes it, but his eyes don’t leave yours. 
“I won’t bite.” He says.
You look away. Shit did he remember you?
“Didn’t think you would.”
You go to turn around when he grabs your wrist. Your blood runs ice cold and your freeze on the spot. You can feel your heart beating away inside of your chest.
His eyes are intense as they stay on you.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asks.
You let out another chuckle.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You’re not a whore?”
His blunt question insults you. You know he means one of the call girls down stairs, but it still bothers you.
“I’m a bartender.” You insist.
“Bartender?” His grip tightens slightly.
He stares into your eyes and you feel threatened. 
Did he remember?
“Hey, everything alright out here?” You turn around, relieved to see Pietro behind you.
Silas quickly lets go of you and returns to his drink.
Pietro looks up from your wrist to Silas with a raised brow.
Your heart only calms down a bit before you clear your throat.
“You okay, Marina?” He asks you in the corner where Silas won’t hear.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Pietro doesn’t believe you and you can tell by the way he looks at you.
“If you ever have any issues with anyone here, please let me know.” You nod, “Good. Have a good night, you did good today.”
You give him another short nod, still unable to breathe properly.
+  +
Bucky was standing out on the balcony when you came home. He looked to be deep in thought about something so you gave him the space he needed. You avoided the bedroom and instead hung out for a bit on the couch, trying to process what happened tonight and how you would tell Bucky. You knew for certain he was going to flip out. Or maybe it was just your paranoia and he would tell you to relax and that you were overreacting. 
You weren’t sure what would happen. 
Bucky doesn’t decided to come inside until you’re in the kitchen grabbing some left over take out from yesterday. He stands in the entrance for a few seconds before sitting down at the table behind you. 
“We need to talk.” He says.
You wait a few seconds before sitting in front of him. He’s looking down at his hand on his leg instead of at you.
He bites his lip and scoffs, disappointedly. 
What was going on?
He stands up, runs his hands through his hair and begins to pace around.
“We shouldn’t have done this. Any of this. It was a mistake. I knew it would’ve been bad. A distraction. We shouldn’t have done this.” His mumbling under his breath and not making any sense to you.
“Bucky, what’s going on?” You ask quietly and concerned. 
He walks over to the counter and slams his flesh fist on it. 
“What the fuck are we doing?”  He shouts, “We’re supposed to be working, focusing on this mission, and instead,” he spins around pointing out the kitchen, “instead we’re out there fucking, Y/N. We’re acting like a bunch of fucking animals, humping each other’s brains out!”
“Bucky —”
“I knew, I knew this would’ve been a bad decision. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
“You need two people to have sex, Bucky.”
“You should have never told me you wanted to fuck me.”
“I never told you to fuck me. I was only telling you how I feel. That’s all I’ve been doing this entire time.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have.”
“You’re the one who told me you wanted to fuck me, Bucky! You’re the one that bought a fucking damn box of condoms while I was taking a damn shower!” You’re angry now as you stand up from the chair, “Don’t you dare tell me this was all me or all you, this was both of us.” You jammed a finger into his chest, “You bought me fucking plan B just so I couldn’t get pregnant with your damn child and then you fucked me again not even an hour later. Don’t you fucking dare.” You can feel the tears in your eyes.
He grabs your fingers and walks you back until your back is against the wall. He snarls down at you.
“Then fuck it. We like to fuck. Either it’s me or you or both us, fine. But we shouldn’t have done it.” 
You want to push him away from you as you feel repulsed by him.
“Yeah? Was that what was going through your mind as you were shoving my head down your cock, Barnes? Making me choke on it? Or when you fucked me up against our window so our neighbors could see? I don’t have to fuck you ever again.”
“Good —!”
“—I literally told you I loved you and you attacked me for it—”
“—because it’s obviously only making everything worst—”
“—I then sleep with you, I gave you my virginity, and you have the audacity to stand here and say I seduced you when I gave you my innocence!” You shoved him away and he stumbled back. Your face felt red and you feel furious. You were shocked you weren’t crying, even though you felt like it, “Huh?” You give me another shove, “How fucking evil are you? You gaslighting piece of shit.”
He looked at you after that and your breathing was the only thing that could be heard. His face was stern and turned into a scowl as he looked down at you.
“I’m evil?” You took deep breaths through your nose to control yourself, “No, yeah you’re right, I am. I know I’m a piece of shit. I’m abnormal.” He spat the same words out you had used against him the other day, “I’m so damn evil, Y/N, that I’d rather try and focus on this damn mission than worry about getting laid.” You’re both breathing hard now. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah, maybe before I was thinking with my cock instead of my head, but it needs to stop now. Last night was the last time.”
You could feel your heart thundering away inside of you. You squinted your eyes at him, seeing the underlying discomfort in his eyes.
“What happened today?” You ask slowly, carefully. He doesn’t answer you and you start to get angry again, “I come home, I found you outside looking all depressed and now you’re in here snapping at me about focusing on the mission. What. Happened. Today?” You emphasize through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath again, looking away from you he runs a hand through his hair and turns away from you.
“They know we’re here. We weren’t careful enough.” He says.
Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach along with your worst fears.
“They know we’re here! I fucking followed them and I overheard them. We either weren’t careful enough or —- I don’t know!” He’s pacing again, “Your parent’s must’ve put in some kind of tracker to make the capitol aware or something of stark technology or maybe Hydra pre installed something. Whatever it is, they know we are here, and for all I know they could be watch us right now. We fucked up.”
You watch him as he stresses over this. He grabs at his hair.
“They don’t know it’s us, Bucky. If they did they’ve would’ve caught us by now.” You tick your jaw as you watch the muscles in his back flex, “Something happened at work today, too. I think Silas remembered me.”
Bucky scoffs, turning around again to face you.
“There’s no way he remembers you. We wiped him.”
“Maybe you’re right, but he was acting off. He came to order a drink and he grabbed me —”
“He grabbed you?”
“Just my hand. I was fine. Pietro showed up, sensed the tension, and Silas backed off.”
You take a deep breath, stepping away from Bucky.
“You’re right,” you eye him up and down, “We can’t let it happen again. We need to focus on this and I’m already exhausted from you.”
“Exhausted from me?” His voice is a low timber now, the anger from before having died over.
“You don’t even know the amount of emotional turmoil you put me through, do you?” He continues to stare at you quietly and you take another step towards him, “You took something I can never get back.” You say quietly, “And it’s up for you to decide what that something is.”
+ + +
@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie @lindatreb@theseuscmander @nervous-plant @wildmoonflower  @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics @kaitlynisinfinite @justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​
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outofplaceoutinspace · 20 hours ago
Them being home with you would include: - gentlemen
18+ Reader = gender-neutral reader
Pairing (couple): character x reader (choose your favourite/s)
Warnings: None.
Category: fluff
Requested: No.
A/N: Does anyone even read A/N's or am I the only one? Guess I'll never really know. But, those of you who have read some of my preferences so far will notice that some peeps are missing. The sole reason for that is that I have trouble finding so many different ideas, that's why I have limited myself to these. If you want me to write for someone that is not included here, don't hesitate to make a request! (Everything you need to know can be found on my pinned post! Also, you don't have to follow me in order to make a request. It would be nice, but it's not necessary.)
Now, I hope you still enjoy it!
Bucky Barnes
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lots of cuddles
watching movies together (oldies and modern one's)
going on walks together
you making sure he gets a good night's sleep
him telling you stories about his life before the war
Steve Rogers
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slow dancing to '30s, '40s music in the evenings
him drawing you when you don't notice
cooking together
you showing him new books, movies and music
Sam Wilson
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lots of hikes
baking and cooking together for the cook-outs
the pair of you babysitting his nephews
playful fights
cosy evenings with cuddles & movies
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him telling you about Asgard and other planets
you introducing him further to terrestrial things
bear hugs
you cooking him various meals he never had before
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you giving him lots of classical books to read
cuddling & you listening to him telling you stories about his homeland
teaching him how to cook
him entertaining you by playfully mimicking your favourite actors
walks in the woods
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beulahbarnes · a day ago
Can I draw you know ?
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parings : Steve x fem!reader
warnings :
a/n : i got this idea when I was watching catfa when he was drawing that monkey so yeh and from a Tiktok I saw . when I got about half way I realized that i didn’t even know where I was going with this so yeah so if this is could be wafffle but it’s okay :D . also I’m making a masterlist it’s a bit confusing but yeah hopefully I get that done soon so yeah enjoy the fic :)
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even though steve doesn’t talk about it one of his favorite things to do is draw he’s actually quite good ,it was one of the only things he still had after the ice , the only thing that hadn’t changed . and when he first meet you his first thought was that he had to draw you not in a creepy way or anything that was just how he connected with people and showed affection .he always liked drawing for people close to him cause he liked the idea of them being able to constantly have a physical reminder he loved them even if he wasn’t there .the first time he drew you was at the beach after tony decided everyone need a day out and you were lying (sleeping ) on a sun bed (you had a mission to venice the day before with nat and bucky and didn’t get back till 4 am and tony woke you up at 6 and basically dragged you to the car ) the sun was blinding you but you were so tired you didn’t care. steve was lying next to you writing (drawing ) in his mini blue note pad ,he always was and he never let anyone see in it (it was one of the few thing that made him feel at peace ) .at some point you woke and saw him starting at you and his eyes flickering from you to the paper ,you where about to speak when he said “I was wondering when you were going to wake up ”he said with a ever so slight side smirk whilst still focusing on his drawing . you scoffed at his comment and turned over so he could no longer see your face . “hEy” he said annoyed “turn back over i wasn’t done ” “ I thought u you only drew objects and sunsets and stuff ”you said whilst turning over . “ and how do you know im drawing ?” he questioned “well I’m pretty sure your not writing poetry soo” “plus i looked through your note pad ”you said smiling . steve looked up and from his drawing “and what do you think? ” ,“of what ”you said as you closed your eyes to avoid the eye contact . “my drawings ”he softly chuckled . “oh yeh there kinda shit ”you laughed and opened your eyes to see him looking quite hurt (steve doesn’t really get jokes ) “ oh ”he said looking down . “hey i was joking , your drawing are really good ”you spoke in some attempt to apologize , he smiled “thanks doll ”. you froze at the nickname, “oh i’m sorry I di..” he said in a panic ,“no it’s fine i like it ” you played with your nails not knowing what do as you felt him starting at you “soo...” you said to avoid more painful silence “can I see the drawing ?”you said and you finally looked up at him . he paused for a bit “well I’m not done yet but sure”he spoke as he handed you the book .you opened the book and your eyed landed on the drawing and you couldn’t help but laugh. steve abruptly looked up ,swiftly moved to sit next to you and pulled the note book about your hand “what,do you not like it ?”he said said searching your face for a clue . “no it not that i just don’t like my side profile ”you spoke hoping he wouldn’t have heard you . “well i do ”he said very confidently “and you should too” . you looked at him and saw nothing but a genuinely smile . “thanks”you sood unsure of what to say , “so can you draw me again ... and at a better angle? ”you spoke now looking down unsure of his response. “of course doll ... and just so you know all of your angles are beautiful ” he said almost like it was a fact . you smiled at his cheesy is compliment “so how do you want me to sit ?”you said as your eyes meet ... steve shock him self out of his love struck hase “ oh yeh right uhm .. anyway is fine ” . you sat down and tried to find a comfortable and ‘appealing’ position to be drawn in .. “doll?” he said in some attempt to stop your fidgeting , you froze and decided to just lie on your right side “sorry ” . “it’s okay ” he spoke while letting out and almost silent laugh “can i i draw you now ? ”
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deexchanel · a day ago
Beauty and Beasty 1.
Word Count:
Pairing: President!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!BlackFem!OC
Warning: Swearing.
Summary: Devora is the babysitter of President Barnes's children. To the kids, she is the best babysitter in the world because she lets them have their freedom. On the other hand, President Barnes is uptight, angry all the time, and strict. Today she had to put him in check.
Not edited
A/N: OmG If I write this correctly and like it, this will be a seriesssss.
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"Melanie, honey it's time to wake up," Devora whispered, moving the toddler's hair aside. Her eyes opened, showing her blue eyes that resembled her father's.
She's only 2, so all she could pronounce from Devora's name was D. Devora picked her up out of bed. "Oo, your bed hair is so wild!" Melanie giggled cuddling her head into Devora's chest. She brought the child to the dining table where her older sister and brothers sat.
Devora personally kissed each one of their heads."Goodmorning Roman, Declan." She gave Sophie a personal good morning. "Good Morning my princess."
Sophie smiled eating on her boring oatmeal."Good Morning, Devora how you sleep?" Declan was jealous that she was shown favoritism.
"How does Sophie get a personal good morning from you??"
"Because she been good and also been going to all her afternoon activities!"Devora bragged sitting down at the table. Sophie stuck her tongue out at her older brother. Melanie played in her food, eating it as well.
"I don't want to do fencing though, I want to play basketball." Declan whine, dragging his spoon in his oatmeal. Roman spoke up even though he's so quiet.
"Yeah, I want to play football."
"I want to do gymnastics but we all know father isn't going to let us because he's so uptight." Sophie rolled her eyes, eating the oatmeal. Devora knew that's what they really wanted to do so she came up with an idea.
"Okay if you promise to go fencing today, I'll talk to your dad about you guys playing the sport you actually want to do."
Roman eyes sparkled, "Really? You would do that for us?"
"Yes, I'll do anything for you guys!" Devora exclaimed winking at them.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you Devora. You're the best!"Sophie smiled and Declan agreed to shake his head. "Yes, you really are!"
James walked into the dining room and all the conversation ceased. Devora rolled her eyes not seeing how everyone is so afraid of him. Maybe it was the arm he lost in a car accident and the doctors replaced it with a metal arm. That metal arm didn't intimidate her at all. Devora stayed sitting down while the kids stood up greeting him.
"Kids." He nodded his head at them.
"Father." They spoke simultaneously. When he sat down, the kids sat down and breakfast resumed. This time it was quiet since he was in the room.
"How you sleep Mr. President?"Devora blithered leaning forward in her seat. James stopped mid-eating just staring at her. When he didn't say anything back, she sat back. "Rude ass."
"Excuse me?"James sat his spoon down, getting upset. Devora rolled her neck at him.
"You heard what I said. Rude. Ass."
"How dare you speak to me-"
Sophie cut her dad off, "Hey dad, I passed my classes for this semester." James side-eyed Sophie with his attention now on her.
"Do you have all a's?"
"No. I-I don't but I'm working hard-"
"Then I don't care."
Sophie drops her head in sadness as Devora looked at him in shock. "Declan come get your sister so you guys can prepare to leave for school." He nodded getting up, coming over to get Melanie. Roman hugged his sister as they all walked out of the dining room.
"Mary, could you go get me some more coffee?" Devora asked nicely the maid. She perked up leaving out the room fulfilling the request. Devora got up going to where Quinton, Bucky's royal advisor, stood.
"I need to talk to you outside really quick, it's about the kids"
"Okay, we can step out." Quinton walked out in front of her but Devora closed the door behind him locking the only door that was in the room. He beat against the door. "Ms. Smith open the door!"
"Hey! What are you doing?!"James exclaimed from behind her. She simply ignored him. "Sometimes I think he's slow," Devora mumbled walking back over to James. She slammed her hands against the table.
"You need to get your head out of your ass!"
"You do not get to talk to me this way. Open the door and let me out now." James stood up from his seat, pointing to the door,
Devora moved the hair from in front of her face."No shut the fuck up and let me talk. Why are you such an asshole to people that love and care for you huh? I don't know what the backstory is for you to have this funky-ass attitude but honestly, I don't give a damn. Nobody has done anything to you!! I’m not going to sit here and let you disrespect your kids when all they’re trying to do is love you!”
James furrowed his eyebrows. No woman has ever raised her voice at him. "You do not have the right to speak to me this way-"
She glared at him for speaking, "I said shut up, I'm doing the talking!" James shut his mouth, with a raised eyebrow. That really turned him on but he didn't show it. "I told the kids that I was going to talk to you about letting them play the sport they want. But that isn't a choice, you're going to let them. They would love it.”
"Who are you to be in charge, you're just a broke woman from America."
"Well, this broke woman is taking care of your kids, better than you ever could. There's nothing else to be said, don't ever talk to this 'broke woman' unless it's pertaining to the kids. We're done here." Devora flipped her hair over her shoulder. She went over to the door to let in his annoying ass royal advisor. She knew he was watching her walk away.
James bit his lip looking at all her curves. Damn, being put in check got him excited. It was new to him. "Mr. President are you okay? Do I need to have her removed from the premises?" Quinton asked in a panic.
James held his hand up. "No Quinton it's fine. I need you to do something." The way her ass moved when she walked away replayed in his mind repeatedly.
"What is it, sir?"
"Sign the kids up for the sport they want to do."
I just scratched the surface. Should I keep going? 😂
This basically the start if you guys like it😁
This came to my mind and it’s going to have maybe about 5 or 6 parts!
I have a lot of shit to write but this definitely going to be written first 😭
Stay slutty my friendsss 💞
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randomdancingwhore · a day ago
Princess Protection Program - Helmut Zemo x Wakandan! Reader
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Summary: Y/N is the kind, wide-eyed and naive ward of Wakanda’s royal family. She’s the perfect princess who always does as she’s told.
What will happen when the uncle who raised her is murdered by a man on a rampage against the Avengers? And what will she do when she finds herself falling for his killer, against the wishes of those closest to her?
Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her 20′s though), Sexual Themes, Death of Family Members, PTSD, Manipulation, Naive Reader, Codependency.
Coming Soon...
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wednesdayadams228 · a day ago
Imagine - Steve Rogers
warnings - none
Wrote this while listening to I Love You by Billie
First time writing for Steve lol
Steve was supposed to return from his mission today. It had been 2 agonizing months since Steve had left for his mission with Tony, Bruce, Peter, and Bucky. The only thing you were told from any of them was that Hydra was up to something and they to take care of it. There had been no phone calls, no text messages, no updates about anything. You didn't even get to know where he was in the world or if he was even okay. For all you know he could be hurt or worse dead.
You eventually get tired of the thoughts swirling in your head and decide to go get some food. On your way to the kitchen, you walk around Wanda and Vision binge-watching another sitcom on the couch. You pass Nat who is sitting at the kitchen table looking out the window.
"Hi." she says in a calm voice still staring out at the rainy city.
"Hey." You quietly say back. You wish you could be at peace like she at least seemed to be right now.
"How do you do it?" You ask.
"Do what?" she replies.
"Be okay with Bucky being gone. I try to not worry every time Steve leaves but I can't. It's impossible. I just know how much you love Bucky and you guys are always apart so much on missions. I guess I just want to know how to be okay with Steve being gone all the time."
"Well to be honest I don't know." She replies "We have always been apart so much that it's normal now. I still wonder if he's okay every now and then but I try to avoid the topic and distract myself. It's too painful to worry about the worst possible situations."
You go and sit next to Nat and look out the window with her. You guys stay like that for the next couple of hours waiting for your lovers to return home. You hear the doors slide open from the elevator and see Bucky, Bruce, Tony, and Peter but no Steve. Nat goes to give Bucky a hug and you look around and wait a few minutes for Steve to come through the door... but he doesn't.
"Where is he?" You ask quietly
"Hydra has him" Bruce says.
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demonsandmischief · 2 days ago
106 (Part 2)
Marvel - A Captain America Imagine
Steve Rogers x Female Reader
800 Words
Here's Part 1
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-Part 2-
The future becomes more certain.
"I am in need of some calm," Steve said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Space, time travel, losing people I loved, it was all a lot to handle at once."
You sympathized with his confession. "My mom died a few weeks before I blipped, but my dad supposedly got sick while I was gone."
"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I can't imagine how that feels."
"I can't imagine what you've seen, what you've gone through," you shook your head. The last few years seemed to be nothing but pain for the world. It was a heavy burden to carry.
"And yet, right now, makes it all seem worth it," he said with a soft whisper, the same slight smile brightening his solemn features.
You could feel your face heat at his sweet words. His deep drawl healing away all of today's problems.
"You said you had a place outside of the city?" Steve asked.
"Just a small apartment. Where do you live?"
He gave a deep sigh, a crooked smile on his face as he soaked you in, "I don't know that I have a place. I crash everywhere. I was on the run after the Sokovia accords, and then I was so busy after."
You knew what he was getting at and you smiled. "You could always stay with me, if you'd like?"
"I'd never want to put you out."
"You wouldn't be. I would enjoy having someone around."
He reached out to run his rough, calloused hand down your face. It was almost like he couldn't believe you were real.
It had been a few weeks. Steve stayed at your place with you. Even for what little work he did have, he didn't stray far.
You still couldn't find a job, and you were quickly eating through your savings and the money your parent's had left you.
The two of you were eating a quiet dinner when Steve spoke up, "If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"
You hummed, swirling your spoon around, "I'd like to have some land, have some animals and a garden or something."
"Sounds like a quiet life," he whispered, and you looked up, wondering where he was getting at. "I thought the guy who wanted all of that went in the ice, but then..."
"Where are you going with this, Steve?" you asked him.
"The government has offered me a pardon for what happened all those years ago, and they're also offering to pay for my retirement."
You reached for his hand across the table and he laced your fingers. "But you don't want to retire, do you?"
"Retirement wouldn't mean I stopped working. I could accept this money, and still do my own thing privately."
You stacked your dishes and carried them to the sink. "That would probably mean giving up the Captain America mantle though."
He shrugged, and you could tell what he was thinking. He had already parted ways with it.
"I want to be more than Captain America," he said it so softly that the clanging of dishes nearly covered it.
He held out his arms and you tucked yourself into his chest.
"You are more than that," you mumbled, rubbing his back. "Especially to me."
He kissed the crown of your head. "We would be set with this money though. It's a very generous amount. We could get that little farm you want."
You pulled away, finding his haunted blue eyes. "Steve..." you whispered.
"I want to buy a home with you."
You reached up to cup his face, "You're so sweet, you know that? But I don't want you accepting the offer because of me. We can figure something else out."
He leaned down to brush his lips with yours, "I don't want to figure anything else out. You're all I want, honey. I mean maybe, later on, I'd like a kid or two." He grinned cheekily.
"Or three," you smiled.
Steve kissed you fiercely, "Or four."
"I'm going to stop you there," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his neck.
Your thoughts started to run with dreams, dreams with Steve and dreams of family. The future had always been uncertain for you, but maybe things could look up.
He gave a wistful sigh, "Besides, I know the perfect man for taking up the mantle. I think I deserve this, the simple life, with you."
"You know I'll support you no matter what. Whatever you choose, it doesn't make you any less of a person."
He rested his head on top of yours, a soft I love you floating from his lips and swelling your heart.
The End
Tags: @bklynxbaby @sammyirwin24
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buckysbloom · 2 days ago
Ocean Eyes
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summary: It's late at night, and Steve is still gone. And when he returns, it might be the last time you're together.
pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader
word count: 809
warnings: angst, cursing, cheating (mentioned), implied smut, Steve is kind of an ass here
a/n: This is my first time posting my work! This was inspired by Billie Elish's Ocean Eyes. Also note that English isn't my first language, therefore I apologize for any mistakes.
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It was quiet in the compound. The hallways silent, while you could see the never dying lights of New York through the windows. The skyline illuminated the night sky so much, one could say morning comes. But it was late at night. And the only thing you could hear in the Avengers headquarters were the soft steps of her naked feet on the cold tiles.
Waited too long. Too long.
Troubled she went to her room. Weighted down with weariness, but she had to wait. Wait. Wait for him. He was gone for hours. Not a shadow of him. And she was waiting for him. She knew where he was, though. Knew what he did. Knew what he hid.
But she waited.
Sleep would be too sweet. She ignored her body’s signs of fatigue and decided to fight the demons in her mind. The desperateness, the hopelessness, the frustration. They spread, like a disease that can’t be healed, like an eternal darkness.
Expected too much. Hoped too much. Dreamt too much.
The lamp on her nightstand shone as she entered the room. Next to her bed. The bed, that she shared with him. The bed, in which she opened up to him so many times. In which she committed herself to him in such a special way.
It all seemed like a silly dream now. Far away from reality. But it was real and so so close.
He stood with his back to her. Unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner. He turned around as she entered the room, a smirk on his face.
“Hey babe…” - “Where were you?” A simple question.
“On the mission with Buck. I thought I told you?” A lie.
“Don’t bullshit me, Steve,” she hissed, stepped closer to him and bore her finger in his chest “Bucky came back hours ago. Told me about his free day!”
Heavy tears started to spring to her eyes and threatened to fall down her face.
“Were you in town again? With her?”
“Babe…” - “Did you go there again?!” Screams cut the silence.
A pause. “Yes…” The truth.
The warm tears ran down her cheeks and fell to her cold feet. She tried to look at him, but his gaze was directed to the floor. Deathlike stillness rested on both of them again. She spoke with a small voice “Do you still love me…?”
It was soft, quiet. But still it pierced through the oppressive silence. Like a cry, loud enough so he could hear it. But he remained silent.
She was at the end of her patience. Overtired, frustrated, infuriated and saddened at the same time.
It was too much.
“Steve, do you still love me?” Still seeking his gaze.
He lifted his head up and the only thing he did was to look in her eyes. The blue colliding with her eyes and she fell from dangerous cliffs into the threatening sea of his eyes.
“Do you still love me?” Louder, tears running. “Did you ever love me?” Punches against his arms. “Talk to me!” Screams. “What did I do wrong?” More punches. He stepped back and she stepped forward, so he took every hit. It didn’t bother him anyway. He was Captain America, after all. Incredible. Invincible. Irresistible.
“Why don’t you love me?” Voice breaking. “Say something. Anything!” Giving in to the emotions.
She looked him in the eyes. Deep blue. The bottomless ocean. The crashing waves grabbing her. Pulling her to its core. Drowning her. Becoming one with her tears.
She stopped hitting and he pulled her to him, pulled her into his arms and stroke over her hair and kissed her forehead and felt the remorse, the regret, while she absorbed his warmth and clung to him and indulged in the safety of his arms and her tears ran and fell and dropped onto his chest and she sobbed into his shoulder and both of them stood there, forgetting time and holding each other.
Then his hands wandered up to her face, holding it and looking in her puffy eyes. No words were spoken. She grabbed his upper arms, searched his face for a sign, anything, as did he. Slowly moving, their lips brushed and then they collided. Raw emotions. Feverishly. Fiercely.
His hands roamed her body and he picked her up, lips never parting, holding on for dear life. Her hands moving to his head, hands grabbing his hair. He lays her down on the bed, climbing on top of her and pulling on her clothes. And one last time she opened up to him. Letting him inside her, letting him touch her, letting him make her forget.
But both of them knew what would follow. Both of them knew, what would happen. Both of them knew there would be an end. An oh so apparent end.
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twoghostsfromeden · 2 days ago
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Baby, Look What You've Done To Me
Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Captain America rushes to your side to help you out of a sticky situation, but you find yourself in an even stickier situation when he holds you captive.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Dark themes, 18+, implied dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, brainwashing, minor violence, stockholm syndrome, mentions of panic attack,
A/N: This was requested! If any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, do not feel obligated to read!
Your chest heaves as you stare down the two guys in front of you, each having their minds set on the same thing.
You knew you shouldn’t have walked down a dark alley alone, but it was the fastest way home and you were already running behind. Not that it matters, no one is there waiting on you. You’d just had a horrible day at work, you were ready to get home and be alone.
Now, you’re wondering if you’ll ever see your home again.
The taller one looks at the smaller one, a snarl on his face. “What are we gonna do with her?” He asks, his eyes following the smaller man. The smaller one backs you against the wall, his knife pressed to the bottom of your neck.
His free hand reaches down to your thigh, his grin showing his yellow teeth. “I have a couple of ideas,”
You close your eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling down. You can smell alcohol on his breath, practically tasting it.
“Step away from the girl,” You hear a voice say, giving you the courage to open your eyes. You know that voice! Everyone knows that voice.
The smaller guy turns to face Captain America, his knife dropping to his side. You can almost see him shaking in his shoes, his smug grin long gone.
“Look, mister, we don’t want any trouble,” The taller perpetrator says, putting his hands up in the air. You keep your back pressed against the wall, not quite believing what’s unfolding before you. You never imagined you’d actually be able to see Captain America in real life!
You had seen him on TV, next to Director Fury after a catastrophe, but you’d never really seen him fight. You thought he was mostly busy with high priority threats, not helping out average civilians.
Captain America takes one more step forward, narrowing his eyes. “I’m giving you 3 seconds to run, or my shield is going down your throat or up your ass,” He threatens, his right arm behind back to reach for his shield.
You gulp at the sight of it, pure adrenaline running through your body. You hadn’t realized just how big the shield was.
The two men take off running, their weapons lying on the ground beside of your feet. You finally move off of the wall, bringing your hands to your cheeks. You wipe the tears from your face, trying to make yourself presentable for Captain America.
“Are you alright?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. You nod quickly, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” You reply, your voice shaky.
You don’t want to know what would’ve happened if Captain America hadn’t seen you. You know words will never be able to repay him, but you’ll try. Captain America stares down the alley, making sure all traces of the criminals are gone. You study his clenched jaw, your heart swooning in your chest.
Along with many other things, you hadn’t realized Captain America was so... handsome.
“I thought you only protected America, not individuals.” You speak up, watching as he chuckles quietly. He turns to face you, a smile on his clean-shaven face.
“I try to fit a couple of average people in, just to make me look good,” He teases, watching you giggle. You look down at the ground, your cheeks red. When you look down, you notice your pants are dirty from the altercation.
You don’t remember much already, Captain America’s presence seemingly erasing your memories, but you almost remember being pushed on the ground at one point.
You look back up, Captain America’s smile long gone. “Thank you, again, Captain,” You say, turning to walk out of the alley. You’re not keen on walking home alone, but you know Captain America has better things to do than to talk to you.
“You can call me Steve,” He starts, watching you turn around. “And I don’t think you should go home yet. They could be following you,” He finishes.
“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” You answer, your nimble fingers fidgeting at the end of your shirt. Your parents are away on vacation and you haven’t exactly made a ton of friends since you moved here.
Steve smiles, nodding to his motorcycle parked nearby. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll be safe at my place,”
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After a quick ride on Steve’s motorcycle, you arrive at his house. Your eyes widen when you realize just how big his house is. Steve takes your helmet off, tucking it under his arm. “You can stay as long as you’d like, I know how scary it is to go through that.”
You follow him into the house, your eyes scanning the room. It’s exactly how you imagined it would be. Simple, yet extravagant. You take another sip of the bottled water Steve gave you earlier, feeling more relaxed by the second.
“The bathroom is down the hall if you need it.”
You smile to yourself, still in disbelief. Captain America saved you. You’re in Captain America’s house. “Thank you,” You say, your voice quiet. You feel like it’s the only thing you’ve been saying, but you’re still in shock.
Why did Captain America save you? Crime is still prominent in your city, people are still robbed and murdered. So why did Captain America spare you?
You make your way down the hall, eager to clean yourself off. Your face is covered in grease and mud from the attacker’s hands. When you get to the bathroom, you quickly splash your face with water. The cold water brings you back to life, bringing you out of your shock.
You tuck your hair behind your ears, staring at yourself in the mirror. You suddenly have a very uneasy feeling in your stomach, almost as if your brain is telling you that something isn't right.
But what couldn't be right? You're in Captain America's house, you're in the safest place in the world.
You take a deep breath, turning to face the bathroom door. You reach out your hand, grabbing onto the doorknob. When you try to turn it, it stays in it's place.
Your heart rate quickens, your eyes widening. You try to turn it again, only to be disappointed once again. It's locked.
You chuckle nervously, your hand tightening on the doorknob. "Uh, Steve?" You call out, your voice shaky. Maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe you accidentally locked it somehow.
Or maybe it locks automatically. You are in Captain America's house, afterall.
When you don't hear Steve, you start panicking. Did someone attack him? Is that why he's not responding? Your chest starts heaving, your head foggy. Your hand starts shaking, so you drop it to your side.
You fall to your knees, your legs too weak to hold you.
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Steve sits in his chair, his legs spread as he watches you sleep. You're laying in his bed, knocked out from your panic attack. It also might've had something to do with the drink he drugged earlier.
It was no mistake that he saved you. He had been watching you for weeks, searching for the perfect opportunity to approach you. You were everything he was looking for in a house-wife.
Simple, obedient, fragile, and desperate to please.
He had spent that last 70 years thinking they didn't make women like they used to, he didn't think he'd ever be able to find someone like you.
You just needed some help along the way.
Steve watches as you shift in your sleep, the small movement waking you up. You sit up quickly, looking around the room. He can practically hear your heartbeat, he can smell the fear running through your veins.
"Steve," You breathe out, watching as he smirks. He doesn't look injured, he looks perfectly fine. He's no longer in his uniform, having switched it out to grey sweats and a white tee.
"Y/N," He says, standing up. He cracks his knuckles, keeping his eyes on you. "How did you sleep?"
You scoot back until your back is against the headboard, your breathing picking up. That sinking feeling in your stomach has returned again, telling you something isn't right.
"W-What's going on?" You ask, your voice quiet.
Steve reaches the side of the bed, sitting on the edge. He reaches out, placing his hand on your exposed ankle. You glance down at your body, realizing you've been changed out of your earlier outfit. Your jeans and shirt have been replaced by Steve's shirt, your center bare against the bedsheets.
Bile crawls up your throat at the thought of Steve seeing you naked, undressing you.
"Don't be scared, you're safe now," Steve lies, his smirk still prominent on his lips. He rubs his thumb against your ankle, slowly tightening his grip.
At this moment, you realize that Captain America is no longer your hero.
He's your worst nightmare come true.
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You scratch another 'X' in the bedpost on your side, the total adding up to 14 days.
14 days you've been trapped with Steve, forced to clean the house and cook him whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Even when he goes out on a mission, you're stuck in the house, cameras watching your every move.
14 days of reading and watching only what Steve allows you to. You're only allowed to watch old TV shows, only allowed to read books that Steve has approved. Most of them are centered around housewives and obedient women, making sure you know your place.
There have been occasions when Steve has left the TV on after he goes to bed, allowing you to flip through channels, getting a glimpse of the real world. One night, you caught a glimpse of the news station, your parents faces plastered across the screen.
They were crying, begging for anyone to come forward with information.
The next night, you snuck off to watch TV again. This time, the news was explaining how the men that attacked you were arrested, confessing how they murdered you.
The next morning, you woke Steve up crying, fighting him until he tied you to the bed, putting you in your place again.
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34 X's on the bedpost.
You sniffle, wiping the corners of your eyes. You stand back up, your eyes focused on the X you just made. You make your way to the kitchen, starting to prepare breakfast for Steve.
You've gotten in the habit of waking up, getting showered and dressed, marking another X, and spending the day doing whatever Steve needs/wants you to do.
You're so focused on breakfast that you don't even hear Steve enter the house. You only realize he's there when his chest is pressed against your back, his rosy lips ghosting over your exposed neck.
You immediately tense up, your hands halting their movements. "Good morning," You mumble, listening as Steve chuckles behind you.
"Got a surprise for ya," He responds, causing you to turn around to face him. A surprise? He never buys you anything, what could he have possibly gotten you?
"For me?" You ask, watching as he nods. He pulls a small box out from behind his box, a smile spreading across his face.
You look at him for permission to open the small box. "Go ahead, little one," He mutters, causing you to swallow the lump in your throat.
You slowly open the box, your heart skipping a beat when you realize that he bought you a pearl necklace.
Just like the one your mother wears.
You lightly run your finger over the necklace, your eyes filling with tears. You didn't realize how much you missed your family until now. "Steve, what is this?" You ask, lifting your head.
Steve smiles, placing his hands on your waist, turning you around. He reaches around, picking the necklace up. He uses his free hand to move your hair to the side of your neck, placing a small kiss on the now exposed skin.
"I know you must miss your family. I saw your mother wearing a necklace like this on the news," He explains, his fingers working to clasp the necklace around your neck.
"I wanted you to have a piece of her with you," He finishes, taking a step back to admire you. You turn around, your eyes glistening. As sick and twisted as it is, you can't help but be thankful for the small gesture.
You raise your hand to touch the necklace, giving Steve a small smile. "Thank you," You whisper, your voice shaky.
Steve smiles, taking in your appearance. You've truly turned into a beautiful, obedient housewife.
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"Babe, would you mind grabbing some flour while you're out?" You call over your shoulder, rummaging through the cabinets. You were about to make Steve his favorite cake, until you realized that you're out of flour.
Steve barely looks up from his book before he responds. "You can go out to get it," He mutters, returning his attention back to his book.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you turn around, your eyebrows furrowed. Is he serious? He's letting you go out of the house?
After 64 days, you've finally earned his trust.
"Really?" You ask, Steve finally looking up from his book. He places the book on the table, walking over to you. He backs you against the counter, looking down at you.
"What do you need flour for?" He asks, his eyes scanning the kitchen.
You place your hands on his chest, your smile returning. "Well, I was going to make you that cake you like so much," You say, watching as he raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah?"
You nod, biting your bottom lip. "Yeah, you've been away for a while, so I wanted to welcome you home," You explain. Steve's just gotten back from a mission, one that took him away for two long weeks.
The mission almost killed him. Not because of anyone in particular, just because he missed you so much. He hadn't realized how big of a part you played in his life until he didn't have you around anymore.
Steve smirks, licking his lips. "Yeah? What if I wanted something else? Something a little sweeter than the cake?" He teases, his hands reaching down to the front of your dress.
You giggle and swat his hand away, attempting to stay focused on your task at hand. "You sure you don't want to go with me?" You ask, reaching behind you to grab Steve's keys.
"No, I think I'm going to take a relaxing shower," He says, stepping away from you. He almost makes it out of the kitchen before he turns back around, pointing his finger at you. "Straight there and straight back, you hear me?"
You nod, swallowing.
The car ride there consisted of you 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' over simple things, things you haven't seen in months. Even the smallest bird and the slightest whistle had you almost in tears, thankful for your new-found freedom.
You’re not sure why Steve chose now to trust you, but you’re glad he did. He doesn’t have anything to worry about, you no longer want to leave. Sure, he kidnapped you, but Steve cares about you.
It’s proved in the way he wakes you up in the mornings, his clean-shaven cheeks nuzzling their way into your neck, peppering kisses on your skin.
It’s proved in the way he calls you a good girl when you’ve cleaned the house and had food ready for him on time.
It’s proved in the way he almost caused you to forget to count your days, too wrapped up in him to even care how long it’s been since you’ve seen your family.
You love Steve, and Steve loves you.
You park your car in the parking lot, checking yourself in the rear view mirror. It had taken you a while to get used to your hair being a different color, but you knew it was the only way Steve would even consider letting you out of the house.
Now, you quite like it.
You tuck your hair behind your ear, locking the door behind you. You whiz through the aisles, doing your best to find the flour. Even when you weren’t with Steve, you always struggled finding things in the store.
Now, you’re easily sidetracked, your stomach growling when you pass the chip aisle. You haven’t had any junk food since you met Steve. When he shops, he only buys food essential for your living.
Bananas, broccoli, water, rice...
You long for a candy bar and a crisp Coke. You find yourself stopping in the candy aisle, your fingers lightly tracing the price tags. You’re so caught up in imagining the taste of the chocolate that you almost miss the voice behind you.
But you didn’t, because you could never miss that voice. Even after 2 months of not hearing it, you know who it belongs to.
Your body tenses, your fingers stopping on a tag. You can’t bring yourself to turn around, too afraid of what will happen.
“Y/N,” your mother repeats, her voiced hushed. You can hear the pain in her voice, along with the disbelief.
You clear your throat, keeping your eyes on the candy. “I think you’ve got the wrong person,” You lie, keeping your voice down.
You used to spend your early days in captivity dreaming about this, dreaming about the day when you’d be reunited with your family.
But now, this is your worst nightmare.
“No, I don’t. I know my daughter when I see her,” The voice says, moving closer. You turn, clutching the cart in front of you. You move to exit the aisle, your eyes trained on the floor.
Your mother uses her cart to block you, her eyes bearing into your soul. “Y/N, I don’t know what’s happened to you, but you’re coming home now. Don’t worry, we’ll catch whoever took you,” She explains, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.
You flinch, drawing your hand back. You feel tears stinging your eyes, conflicted on where to go. You love your mother, of course you do. You miss the days when you’d watch her bake, singing her favorite songs.
On the other hand, you love Steve. You’ve become accustomed to being his wife, living to please him. If you go home, he’ll be all alone. Someone will figure out what happened, he’ll be arrested.
You’ll never see him again.
You can’t let that happen.
You keep your eyes down, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Ma’am, you’ve got the wrong person. I don’t know who you think I am, but I’d appreciate it if you moved your cart,” You explain, listening as a soft gasp exits her mouth.
You can hear the pain in her voice, not understanding why her daughter won’t come home.
Your mother stands there in shock, leaving you to push your way past her cart, leaving your items behind. You don’t care about the flour, you don’t care about the candy.
You care about Steve.
114 notes · View notes
marvellovegalore · 2 days ago
Loving You
Chris Evans
Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.
Warning: explicit language, sexual content
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No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.
You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.
To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.
So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.
He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.
Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.
You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.
His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.
Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.
Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.
“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”
You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.
He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.
You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.
You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.
Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.
The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.
Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.
He doesn’t see you for a year.
You truly are elusive - to the media and him.
He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.
You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.
Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.
You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.
He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.
You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.
You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.
“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.
You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.
You kiss him, silencing his calming words.
His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.
You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.
The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.
You orgasm. Slowly.
And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.
You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.
You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.
Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.
A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.
You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.
He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.
Hurt people, hurt people.
You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”
His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.
“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. The hats you wear don’t suit you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.
“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.
“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “You’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”
“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.
You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.
“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.
“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.
Taking his heart and soul with you.
He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.
He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.
He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.
He feels his heart break.
He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.
He wants death. Slow and steady death.
Part Deux -
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strawwrites · 3 days ago
Bucky Barnes x Female!Addict!Reader: Tastes a Little like Freedom, a Little like Fear [Ch. 12]
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Summary: [Name] has finally got her life on track. She’s been clean a year, has a full time job, and recently moved into an apartment that is actually fit to live in. To prove something to herself, she visits the Smithsonian exhibit on Captain America…only to run into someone a little familiar. Adopting a fellow addict is one thing. Accidentally adopting a recovering brainwashed Nazi super soldier is another. [Name]’s life is about to run off track worse than ever before, but there could be a reward at the end if she can just hang on for the bumpy ride.
Challenge:  “100 Drabbles Adventure” challenge by SubtleQuirk on Lunaescence Archives.
Ratings/Warnings: M (foul language, sexual references, references to previous drug addiction and continued struggles with drug addiction, torture, mind control, dehumanization, threatening behavior of a man towards a woman)
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Tag List: @chipilerendi, @noiralei, @mycosmicparadise, @aya-fay
Chapter 12: Lost and Found
How long had it been out?
Almost as soon as the question occurred to it, the Soldier squashed it down. What was it doing, asking questions? Questions were not allowed. Questions were only a request to be beaten or wiped. Those it could endure, but why induce them? So far its new handler had not seemed inclined to hurt it. Perhaps that was because it was already hurt, and she was waiting for it to heal. Not that it mattered. Pain would come eventually. It always did.
She had asked it to stand, so stand it did. Its legs hurt. Its legs hurt worse than they had in years–back when they were first testing it–back when they were showing it who it really was. They would leave it for days without food, without water, without company, without rest, and when it finally learned that it could-must-do without, without question, without notice, without complaint, then the Soldier was complete. It was ready. It could begin the job it was created to do.
A cold sweat flashed across the Soldier’s skin, so fast that it was probably just a glitch. But the thought was still there: Was she starting it from the beginning? Had the Soldier botched an assignment so badly that they had sent it to her for reprogramming? Was that what it had forgotten when it woke up here in this apartment?
It did not want reprogrammed.
Want? Where did want come into this? Where did the Soldier pick up the idea that it could want or not want anything? If they decided that it needed retaught, then what right did it have to say “no”? It could say yes ma’am, or nothing at all. The Soldier even considering its own wants was proof enough that reprogramming was necessary. Did it want to fail again? That was the question the Soldier ought to have been asking itself. Glitches had been coming more and more often as of late. The man on the–
It would not go back to that. It would not go back to the way it had been. It would not. It would not. It would not. It would–
She was still watching it, with those disconcerting eyes of hers. They held no hint of the brutality of past handlers, though it understood that a cover could not change one’s core. The Soldier would admit that she fed it, but wasn’t that a kind of punishment, too? Tasteless lump after tasteless lump when an IV would be more efficient. Then she left it in the same position for days and days only to ask it to stand and walk to her on legs that wanted to give out. But it would show her. A weapon had no need to feel. It would walk to her.
Easier commanded than done. It felt stiff, so stiff. Recollection came to it of being commanded to put one foot in front of the other, one at a time, only when told, but that was not what this new woman wanted. She wanted it there, and no amount of hovering by the table looking nervous could convince it otherwise. The Soldier knew there was no nervousness here, only impatience. They were always impatient. One leg moved. Then the other. Again. Again. Again. Slow though the Soldier’s progress might have been, it would make it. And it did.
"Come into the kitchen," she had said. Here it was. The Soldier stood there, watching her watching it with those horrible eyes. Alexander Pierce did not pretend to be what he was not, not to the Soldier. Its eyes narrowed. Perhaps this handler had something to hide.
The sound of her clearing her throat snapped the Soldier away from such insubordinate thoughts. This was why weapons did not have thoughts. Any it might have were foolish, inane, not to be considered. Again it waited. She made the habitual movement of fidgeting with her hair, then opened her hands toward the chair.
“Please,” she said, “sit.”
A please did not keep this from being an order. It sat. A stack of tattered telephone books was place beside its arm. These it ignored. Information was not its to receive without being instructed to. Instead it continued to observe her. She continued to observe it. Two minutes passed in such a manner before she turned around, facing the counter so that it could no longer read her expression.
“What am I doing?” she muttered.
“You are giving me my assignment,” it answered automatically.
She turned back around with a speed that might have impressed it. The small space between them disappeared quickly with her working limbs. “You can…talk?” she asked.
The Soldier inclined its head. Was that not obvious? It had spoken to her before, when prompted. Only when prompted. Otherwise, it might talk more than it ought to.
“Assignment?” she repeated.
“You said we had work to do. What work? I require only orders.”
“Orders?” her voice rose quickly.
What was it about the Soldier that upset her so? She only had to tell it to change for it to do so. Perhaps they had not told her everything about it, or the way it worked. They seemed to have decided to teach it a lesson. There must be something here, something about this woman, that it was supposed to learn from.
She slid into the chair beside it, letting out a quiet sigh. “I just thought maybe you’d help me look through the phone books. That's all.”
Help? In all its long years of existing, the Soldier could never recall being commanded to help. It had tasks and parameters, and it did them without fail. Help indicated that it could function in beneficial way toward things others were assigned to do–or that, worse still, she was not superior to the Soldier in any way at all.
When she added nothing more, the Soldier had no choice. It took the first book in its hands, dropped it on the table, and flipped over to the front page. “Look through the phone books.” Its eyes found the first word and it began to read. Swiftly, the Soldier’s eyes scanned the pages, word after word, line after line, advertisement after advertisement. Read, memorize, condense. Read, memorize, condense.
It stopped when a hand covered what it was reading. She was looking at it again, a small frown on her face. Had the Soldier displeased her?
“How do you know if you know them if you’re going that fast?” she asked.
The Soldier frowned this time. Was it wrong to be doing what it was? She had said to look through the book. The Soldier was looking. She was not, it had noticed. Perhaps help was just a turn of phrase, but how could it know for sure? It was completely unbalanced by this woman. She did not act as the others acted.
“What are the parameters?” it asked.
“Parameters?” she echoed, a deeper frown wrinkling the soft skin between her brows.
“What do you wish me to look for?” it asked in clipped tones. It had never had to hold its handler's hand before.
The frown on her face wiped away entirely to be replaced by a look of shock. “Your friend,” she said. “The one you told me about this weekend.”
“I do not have a friend.”
“You do!” she insisted.
All it could do was cock its head to the left. Who was this new assignment? Who was it to call friend if asked? The new handler was acting as if she had already given the Soldier this information, and it had forgotten. Had she before it had woke up on the floor? Was it truly malfunctioning that badly?
“Repeat parameters,” it requested, bracing itself to be hit.
The strike never came. Instead, her face just crumpled all over again. It had to admit that it was curious. No, curiosity was a sin. Curiosity was not to be allowed. Curiosity killed the cat. Killed the handler. Killed the Soldier. Where had that come from?
The man. On the bridge. He was ruining everything. The Soldier had to kill him. Rend him limb from limb. Prove that it could. The man was its–no his mission. No, not a mission, a–No. Not that path. Not again. Too much pain. Too much. But the pain was worth it. It wasn’t. It must–He must–It–He–It–He–
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sagechanoafterdark · 3 days ago
The Chat Room Master list
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Pairing: Steve x Reader
Warnings: language, online style text, various kinks, masturbation, praise kink, domination, breeding, Capitan kink, dirty talk, size kink, soft!dom Steve
Synopsis: Steve's learned some valuable things over the years of browsing the internet. The most valuable one: You never know who you're talking to online. When it turns out his online Doll is you, will either of you be ready to blur that line between fantasy and reality?
The Chat Room
Synopsis: Steve has learned some valuable things over the years of perusing the internet. But he forgot one valuable lesson: You never know who you’re talking to online.
The Chat Room 2
Synopsis: Things heat up between Steve and his online Doll. Even more when his suspicions are confirmed to her true identity. Steve finds himself asking himself it really safe to play with this kind of fire?
The Chat Room 3
Synopsis: In the final chapter everything comes to a head as Steve becomes impatient with your arrangement and he's ready to claim you as his.
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anarcoqueer1994 · 4 days ago
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Wish You Were Here- Avril Lavigne-Stucky
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