#falcon and the winter soldier series oneshots

[kaynothanks]

On His Collar | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wilson!Reader

Warnings: bucky’s one jealous boi, lil bit of violence, no smut which (for me) really is surprising, smooching, being caught

Summary: Bucky can't keep his hands off you and your brother notices

Word-Count: 12.3K

With a nervous gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you were only half-aware of your leg's relentless fidgeting. Your eyes remained affixed to the world beyond the car window, the landscape blurring as the vehicle, courtesy of Zemo's orchestration, sped on. Vague details of the city drawing closer had filtered through to you via documents and whispers; the scant knowledge of its shadowy dealings enough to stir an unsettling churn within your chest. From a distance, Madripoor was breathtaking, its myriad lights flickering through the rain's swift descent, captured momentarily on the glass before you.

This fleeting illumination conjured memories of a night several months prior, when a call in the deep, silent hours had pierced your tranquility. Urged by his voice, laced with an unspoken desperation, you hadn't hesitated. Your car had cut through the sleeping city of New York, a beacon in the dark, drawn to alleviate his turmoil. The lights of that night, though bearing a resemblance to the ones now stretched before you, held a beauty tinged with a personal touch, perhaps making them appear even more enchanting.

You released a breath tinged with anxiety, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the scant dress that, for reasons unknown, Zemo had at his disposal. The material, with its thinness and the overlay of silver glitter, chafed against your skin, a constant reminder of its presence. However, the knowledge of Zemo's opulent wealth lent you the perspective that this barely-there garment might indeed possess a value surpassing the collective worth of your entire wardrobe.

"You good?" came your brother's voice, close enough to stir the air by your ear, pulling your attention sharply towards him.

For a fleeting moment, you found yourself studying him, ensnared in your own whirlpool of anxiety. The furrow of worry etching deep between his brows sent a sharp pang through your heart. Witnessing this, a desperate plea bubbled within you, a silent yearning for him to cease his endless vigil over you—to halt his attempts at shielding you from every conceivable harm, to stop viewing you through the lens of perpetual childhood, to simply cease the worry that seemed to etch itself into his very being. The thought of being the source of such profound distress, such tangible sorrow for him, was more than you could bear. Heaven knows, the troubles you'd landed yourself in, the predicaments from which he'd extricated you time and again, were countless, far beyond what your fingers could tally.

Sam was the epitome of the brother everyone should be blessed with. From the tender years of your childhood, he had been the figure you looked up to, the beacon that guided many of the choices that had shaped your life. And in the wake of your father's passing, his protective instincts didn't just increase; they surged, enveloping you in a steadfast, unwavering care. He was your rock, your constant, in a world that seemed all too ready to shift beneath your feet. Always there, without fail.

Your decisions often found themselves at odds with his views, sparking debates that seemed as endless as they were passionate. A vivid memory that stood out was when you announced your intention to follow in his footsteps and join the Marines. What ensued was a marathon two-hour discourse, laden with reasons he believed painted a vivid picture of why the military was a mismatch for someone like you. You had absorbed every word, every concern, yet your resolve had remained unshaken. In hindsight, the wisdom woven into his admonitions might have merited deeper consideration, a realization that dawned on you with greater clarity once you found yourself deployed to the turbulent south.

It was there, amidst the chaos and the distance from home, that you began to truly comprehend the depth of Sam's anxiety for your well-being—a sentiment that became reciprocal as concern for your family gnawed at you. Sarah, battling to keep the family business afloat while nurturing two young boys in Sam's absence, became a focal point of your worries. Meanwhile, Sam's life, veiled in the secrecy of countless missions, left a chasm between your shared experiences. Often, he returned with stories he couldn't share, silences that spoke louder than words, deepening your understanding of the burdens he carried and the protective shield he tried to extend over you from miles away.

Had you heeded his words, the tapestry of your life might have been woven with different threads, perhaps even brighter hues. Imagine a reality where you had chosen to stand by Sarah's side, absorbing the tranquility of domestic life rather than the chaos of battle. In that alternate existence, your path would never have intersected with the harrowing battlefield against Thanos. Your presence in the thick of that fight was nothing short of serendipitous, a stark coincidence born from a casual visit to him just as the alarm bells of invasion clanged their ominous toll.

The details of your unexpected journey to Wakanda are shrouded in the mists of adrenaline-fueled urgency, a memory blurred at the edges by the sheer intensity of facing an extraterrestrial threat for the first time. It was an initiation by fire into a reality far removed from anything you had ever known or imagined.

Yet, amidst the whirlwind of chaos and the blur of combat, one memory stands etched with crystal clarity—the visceral sensation of teetering on the brink of oblivion. The cold brush with death is an experience that lingers, a stark reminder of mortality that paints every moment with a sharper contrast, a memory that forever shapes your understanding of life, resilience, and the fragility of existence.

You had weathered the storms of human conflict, battles steeped in the folly and hubris of mankind, but never before had you faced a legion from beyond the stars, intent on culling half of all life in the universe. In the shadow of such an unfathomable threat, your own mortality had seemed inconsequential, dwarfed by the incalculable lives teetering on the edge of annihilation. Driven by a newfound recklessness, a fiery resolve to make a difference, you had abandoned the post Sam had painstakingly chosen for you. You had forsaken safety, charging headlong towards Thanos, the architect of doom.

To him, you were but a speck, a mere human too insignificant to warrant attention, and he had dismissed you with the ease of one swatting away an irritating fly. Yet, with your firearm spent, desperation had lent you audacity. You had launched yourself onto his colossal frame, a knife clutched in your fist, the last vestige of your defiance. You were acutely aware of the invincibility that his skin professed, an armor no earthly might had pierced with lasting effect. But ambition—or perhaps the raw edge of survival—drove you to attempt the impossible: to excise one of the gleaming Infinity Stones from its gauntlet perch.

And in that breathless moment, as your blade kissed the surface of the gauntlet, Thanos's fingers curled into a fateful snap.

The universe hung in the balance, suspended on the cusp of his action and your audacious defiance. Time itself seemed to stand still, awaiting the outcome of a confrontation that had spiraled far beyond the realms of imagination.

When consciousness reclaimed you, five years had vanished into the ether, and you awoke to a world that had moved on without you. The sight that greeted you was your own veins, pulsating with an uncanny luminescence, casting a ghostly glow over the skin they webbed. Your body, once a familiar vessel, now refused the basic command to rise, leaving you sprawled and powerless on the ground. If only you had heeded Sam's directive, you mused bitterly, you might have remained untouched by this curse, spared the constant, gnawing anxiety that now made a den in your heart. Fear had become your unwelcome shadow, looming over you with endless "what ifs." The thought of unintentionally unleashing harm, of your very essence becoming a cataclysmic force capable of leveling cities, was a nightmare that played on an endless loop in your mind.

Through it all, Sam had been your anchor in the tempest, steadfast even as you spiraled into a mire of self-distrust. For three agonizing months, he had nursed you through the turmoil of accepting this altered existence, an existence marked by an estrangement from your own being. Comfort in your own skin had become a foreign concept, an elusive state that you feared might elude you indefinitely. Nowadays, every flicker of your fingers was accompanied by a torrent of anxiety, a silent battle waged between mind and heart. With each throb of your pulse, a cacophony of fears whispered the possibility of harming the one constant in your life—your brother. This new reality was a labyrinth with no visible exit, a path you tread with trepidation, haunted by the potential havoc you could wreak with a mere gesture, a thought, a slip of control.

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously adjusting the sleek black leather gloves that now served as a barrier between your touch and the world, a precaution against the inadvertent destruction your mere contact could cause. For a fleeting moment, your gaze drifted to him, taking in the precise way his ebony locks were coifed, a style so meticulously arranged atop his head. The shortness of his hair, a detail so starkly different from before, still felt alien to your eyes. Catching his gaze already fixed on you, a silent exchange that spoke volumes, you redirected your attention back to your brother, mustering a smile tinged with awkwardness. "Of course. Stop worrying," you whispered, attempting to lace your voice with reassurance, even as your heart wrestled with its own tempest of concerns.

"I'm your big brother," he reminded you, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness as if introducing a fact that might have somehow slipped your mind. "That's my job," he added, a declaration of his unwavering role in your life.

Gotta be a real thankless job, you mused silently, the thought echoing wryly within the confines of your mind. "How haven't I fired you yet?" you quipped back, a teasing lilt in your voice as you nudged him gently with your elbow, inviting a moment of light-hearted banter between the gravity of your shared experiences.

His response was an exaggerated gasp, a playful act that drew a slight, amused smile across your face. Without missing a beat, he turned to the conspicuously silent super-soldier beside him. "Ey, Bucky," he called out, seemingly plucking his next words from thin air with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did I tell you about that one time, when Y/n was seven and she peed—"

"Oh my god, Sam, stop!" The words flew from your lips as you reached out to silence him, your hand slapping his shoulder before trying to cover his mouth, a futile attempt to stem the flow of embarrassing tales. Your cheeks flushed with a warmth that radiated from the deep-seated embarrassment of the memory, vivid as if it had happened just yesterday, rather than years ago.

"I apologize for interrupting your camaraderie," Zemo's voice, laced with a hint of formality, cut through the air from the front seat. His eyes found yours in the rearview mirror, carrying a mix of apology and inevitability. "Unfortunately, my driver can proceed no further."

Zemo was the first to emerge from the vehicle, setting the tone for a swift exit. Sam was quick on his heels, nearly leaping from the car at the sight of Bucky preparing to disembark. The super-soldier merely rolled his eyes at the urgency, a silent testament to his annoyance, before he too followed suit, stepping into the open air.

Left alone for a brief moment, you lingered in the cocoon of the car's interior, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The unease knotted in your stomach, a familiar harbinger of doom, seemed to grip tighter with each passing second. Yet, as you prepared to step out into the uncertain world beyond the car's confines, a flicker of hope dared to whisper through your thoughts. Perhaps, just this once, the ominous premonition that twisted your insides would prove false. Maybe, after a stretch of relentless storms, a moment of calm awaited you. With that fragile hope cradled in your chest, you ventured forth, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Navigating the bustling streets of the city, your senses were on high alert, eyes darting left and right in a mix of wariness and awe. Every sound, every blur of movement was cataloged, an overwhelming flood of stimuli as you endeavored to absorb the essence of the place. Ahead of you, the three men moved with a purposeful stride, seemingly indifferent to the sensory overload that ensnared you. Or so it appeared, until a momentary glance to the side caught Bucky mid-observation, his head subtly angled in your direction. The instant he realized he'd been noticed, his gaze snapped forward, a silent admission of his watchfulness.

A small, knowing smile played on your lips as you continued your exploration, your attention now on the eclectic mix of individuals that populated the streets. Their attire was a vivid tapestry of the city's culture and complexity, each person a unique thread woven into the larger fabric. In this context, Zemo's insistence on changing your clothing became crystal clear. Clad in your usual cargo pants and top, you would have stood out starkly, a beacon of foreignness in this richly diverse crowd. It would have been akin to parading around with a neon sign branded "idiot," announcing your outsider status to every discerning eye. His foresight, though begrudgingly acknowledged, spared you that unwitting declaration of naivety.

In the mosaic of your life, Bucky Barnes occupied a space that was both vivid and complex, interwoven with threads of intimacy and shared secrets, away from the prying eyes of your overprotective brother, Sam. Your connection with Bucky had evolved, nurtured by the clandestine moments and deep conversations that unfolded in the quiet corners of New York's bustling cityscape.

It began with chance encounters, two souls adrift in the vastness of the city, finding solace in the understanding gaze of the other. These meetings grew in frequency and depth, transitioning from fleeting to intentional, as you both sought the comfort and understanding that seemed to elude you elsewhere. The shared experience of navigating a world that often felt too constricting, too demanding, became the foundation of your bond.

Your relationship with Bucky was a tapestry of silent understandings and whispered confidences. There were evenings spent in his modest apartment, where the glow of the city lights barely filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a soft luminescence. Here, amidst the shadows, you shared parts of yourselves that had been carefully guarded from the rest of the world. Bucky, with his guarded heart and weary eyes, found in you a kindred spirit, someone who could see beyond the Winter Soldier to the man who was still standing beneath.

These moments of vulnerability were your secret, a world built for two, where words were often unnecessary. You had memorized the layout of his apartment, the contents of each cupboard and drawer, not through any explicit intention but through the natural intimacy that comes from shared spaces and shared silences. It was in the way you could wordlessly hand him a glass of water from his kitchen without having to ask where he kept his glasses, or how the two of you could sit in comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts yet together.

Yet, this closeness was kept hidden, a chapter of your life unread by Sam. Not out of deceit but from a desire to protect this fragile connection from external judgments or expectations. With Sam's protective instincts, your relationship with Bucky was a delicate balance, a treasure trove of moments and memories that you both guarded fiercely.

The complexity of your relationship with Bucky was not defined by labels or expectations but by the depth of connection and mutual understanding. It was a testament to the fact that sometimes, the most profound relationships are those that exist in the spaces between words, in the comfort of silence, and in the shared experiences of two souls navigating the world side by side.

The inexplicable flutter in your heart whenever Bucky was near often left you questioning your own sanity, yet there was something undeniably captivating about the way he made you feel. The warmth that crept into your cheeks as you reminisced about a lazy afternoon spent in the park was a testament to this. It was a simple moment, really—Bucky's admission of his aversion to text messaging because he preferred the sound of your voice had somehow managed to send your heart into a delightful somersault. In that instant, you understood the unspoken pact between you two: to keep the depth of your connection hidden from your brother.

This secret camaraderie you shared with Bucky was treasured quietly, a series of moments and feelings kept just between the two of you. Bucky, too, found solace in your presence. The way you looked at him, with eyes filled with genuine affection and understanding, offered him a tranquility he had long thought was beyond his grasp. Your smile was like a beacon to him, urging him to open up about his past, his fears, and his dreams, despite the darkness that shadowed much of his history. Yet, of all the things that drew him closer, it was your laughter that he cherished most.

Your laughter wasn't restrained or demure; it was the kind that bubbled up from deep within, unfiltered and infectious. Those moments when you would laugh so heartily, throwing your head back without a care in the world, were the ones that Bucky held dear. It was in these bursts of genuine joy that he saw the lightness of being, a stark contrast to the battles and burdens he carried. Your laughter, free and unabashed, symbolized a purity of happiness that Bucky admired. It reminded him that amidst the complexities of life, there existed simple, unguarded moments of joy worth cherishing.

In the twilight of Bucky's life, where happiness seemed more a memory than a possibility, the moments he shared with you illuminated his world with an unexpected joy. Time and again, he teetered on the brink of asking you to intertwine your lives officially, to step beyond the unspoken boundaries of your secret affinity and declare it openly. Yet, each time the words perched on the edge of his tongue, ready to leap into the abyss of possibilities, the thought of Sam cast a long shadow over his resolve.

Sam, the steadfast pillar of your family, was a friend to Bucky in every sense except in name, for their camaraderie was too complex and layered for simple labels. Bucky was acutely aware of the fierce love Sam harbored for you, a protective and encompassing love that was both admirable and intimidating. He knew of the cherished photograph Sam carried in his wallet—a tangible reminder of the bond shared between you, your sister, and his beloved nephews, a snapshot of the life Sam fought so valiantly to protect.

And it was the thought of Sam, with his unwavering loyalty and brotherly love, that stayed Bucky's confession. He was painfully aware of the turmoil that would ensue should Sam discover the depth of his feelings for you. Bucky could almost feel the weight of Sam's betrayal and anger, for in his heart, he knew that his affection for you crossed lines that Sam might never forgive. This tension, this fear of fracturing the fragile truce they had built, kept Bucky silent, trapped in a limbo of longing and loyalty, where his desire to claim your heart battled with his respect for the brother who would view such a confession as the ultimate treachery.

As Zemo led the way, weaving through a throng of onlookers whose eyes darted with a mix of curiosity and caution, the air buzzed with hushed whispers that all seemed to echo the same question: "Is that the Winter Soldier?" Yet, if only they could see beyond the infamy and the scars of war, they'd find Bucky. This was the same Bucky who had once called you in a panic, deep into the night, baffled by the modern conundrum of ordering a television online. The same Bucky who shared with you his playlist of favorite songs, tunes you never expected to enjoy, yet found yourself playing on repeat. And this was the Bucky who, in an earnest attempt to teach you to dance, ended up with you standing on his feet, both of you moving in a clumsy but heartwarming harmony across the floor.

Arriving at the bar, you edged closer to Zemo and Bucky, the latter noticing your approach and subtly shifting to grant you more space. "Good evening," greeted the bartender with a nod towards Sam, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger."

The effort to suppress a grin was Herculean as the nickname filled the air. Your brother, Sam, for all his bravery and skill, was many things, but a master thespian he was not. Tonight, he was to embody Conrad Mack, or "Smiling Tiger," a persona draped in notoriety and whispered about in the darkest corners of the criminal underworld. Knowing Sam's theatrical limits, the anticipation of watching him navigate the guise of an African gangster tinged your apprehension with a thread of amusement, painting the night ahead with the promise of unforgettable moments.

"Plans have shifted," Zemo interjected smoothly, answering on behalf of Sam, who tightened his lips in an attempt at solemnity. The sight was almost comical; Sam's expression ventured into the realms of absurdity. "We have business with Selby tonight."

A cloak of skepticism draped over the bartender's demeanor, his eyes—a mix of inquiry and caution—peered from behind the substantial frames of his glasses. His visage, half-obscured by a beard, seemed out of place in this den of shadows and whispered secrets. One could easily mistake him for a tech wizard from the polished corridors of Stark Industries rather than a keeper of this clandestine establishment.

"The usual, then?" the bartender queried. Sam, lips still tightly sealed, offered a single, determined nod, his posture shifting slightly with unease. With practiced ease, the bartender turned to retrieve a jar housing a deceased equatorial spitting cobra, laying it out with a certain reverence on the cutting board before you. He wielded a knife, expertly slicing the serpent open to extract its heart. This he placed in a shot glass, to which he added a dash of Triple sec, a measure of gin, and a squeeze of finger lime, concocting a drink that teetered on the edge of the exotic and the macabre. Sliding the glass towards Sam, the air was momentarily thick with anticipation.

"Ahh," Zemo exhaled, a chuckle threatening to breach his composure. "The Smiling Tiger, your favorite." The room hung in a momentary suspense, the bizarre ritual highlighting the lengths to which one might go to blend into the shadows of this underworld.

As you reluctantly redirected your attention away from the unsavory scene, your eyes found solace in Bucky's gaze. The moment of eye contact with the super-soldier was like a silent pact, conveying volumes in the briefest exchange. “I think the next part’s worth watching.” His suggestion was delivered in a hush, his voice a soft, enticing caress against the delicate skin of your neck, sparking a cascade of warmth that pooled in the pit of your stomach. You darted a quick look around, half-expecting the assembled throng to notice this intimate exchange. Yet, their attention remained steadfastly on the notorious figure of the Winter Soldier, allowing you a sliver of privacy in the crowded space.

Turning back towards your brother, you endeavored to steady your racing heart, to cloak the fluttering butterflies that Bucky's nearness had unfurled within you. But it was akin to trying to calm a storm with whispered words; Bucky's heat enveloped you, a comforting yet unnerving presence. Then, almost imperceptibly, he edged closer, a mere shift that breached the scant distance between you. His chest hovered just shy of touching your back, a whisper of contact that electrified your senses.

Your body responded before your mind could catch up, muscles tensing, heart thundering against your ribcage as if seeking escape. The air seemed to thicken, each breath a labor through the heightened tension that his proximity wrought. The warmth from his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with a heat that was both foreign and intoxicating. A shiver coursed through you, unbidden, as you fought the urge to lean back into him, to seek solace in the strength of his embrace. His presence, so close and yet so restrained, left you teetering on the edge of something profound, a precipice overlooking a maelstrom of uncharted emotions and desires.

The atmosphere in the dimly lit, cramped space was charged with an uneasy anticipation as Sam steeled himself to down the concoction before him – the alcohol mingling with the snake's heart in a display of grit and resolve. Standing beside him, you could almost taste the bile rising in your own throat at the thought, empathy for Sam's predicament tangling with your own visceral reaction. It was in this moment of vicarious revulsion that you felt it—a touch so light, so fleeting on your arm that it could have been mistaken for a trick of the air, save for the deep, intrinsic knowledge that it was Bucky. His touch, though minimal, carried with it a warmth and a reassurance that seemed to cut through the tension of the moment, grounding you.

This gentle caress, lost to anyone else's perception, was like a beacon to your heightened senses, which seemed to come alive with a fervor that only Bucky's presence could ignite. It was a silent communication, a shared moment amidst the chaos, confirming that his attention was riveted not on the grotesque spectacle unfolding with your brother but on you. And then, without need for visual confirmation, you sensed the subtle shift in his posture, the lean of his body just close enough for you to catch the light inhale as he discreetly breathed in the scent of your hair. The intimacy of the action, hidden in plain sight, had your eyelids fluttering close, teetering on the edge of surrender to the sensation.

But the moment was shattered by the intrusion of a new, deep voice, unfamiliar and brusque, pulling Bucky's gaze away from you for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The voice belonged to a tattooed biker who had sidled up beside Zemo, breaking the spell that had cocooned you and Bucky in your private world. Yet, even as Bucky's eyes momentarily flicked to the newcomer, assessing and then dismissing him as a threat, his hand lingered on your arm, a silent vow of protection and an unwillingness to completely sever the thread of connection between you.

When the biker had disappeared back into the throng of the bar's patrons, Bucky's voice, low and resonant, brushed your cheek, "A Power Broker, really?" His breath was a warm caress, a contrast to the cool air of the bar and the cold reality of their mission.

Zemo's response was a shrug, nonchalant yet laden with the weight of their precarious position within this den of intrigue and danger. "Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." The words were a stark reminder of the peril that shadowed their every step, yet, for a fleeting moment, the only truth that seemed to matter was the connection between you and Bucky, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that thrived even in the heart of danger.

As your brother subtly leaned in, distancing himself from the ears of the surrounding strangers, his voice carried a note of quiet inquiry, "Do you know him?" His gaze was sharp, the weight of leadership and concern pressing upon his features, a look you knew all too well.

Zemo, ever the enigmatic figure, glanced briefly over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping across the teeming masses of Madripoor's underworld. "Only by reputation," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of wariness. He continued, his tone lowering to match the gravity of his words, "He is judge, jury, and executioner in Madripoor." The way Zemo articulated the roles imbued them with a sense of dread, painting a picture of a figure wielding absolute power over life and death in this lawless land.

As Sam prepared to step back, blending once more into the crowded backdrop of the bar, his gaze inadvertently fell upon Bucky's hand, a subtle yet intimate gesture resting gently on your arm. The silent question was evident in the arch of his brow, a wordless probe into the nature of the connection he had just witnessed. Despite the many shared battles and secrets between you, this particular nuance of your relationship with Bucky remained veiled from Sam's knowledge. He knew of the camaraderie, the shared jokes, and the mutual respect; what he had yet to grasp was the depth that lay beneath those surface interactions.

Caught under the weight of your brother's scrutiny, you felt a compelling urge to divert, to shield the budding complexity of your relationship with Bucky from any further inquiry. With a practiced nonchalance, you reached for the glass that had mysteriously found its way before you—its contents unknown but suddenly invaluable as a means of distraction. The glass felt cool against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading through your chest, fueled by Bucky's proximity and the intensity of your brother's gaze.

Without granting Sam the acknowledgment he sought, you lifted the glass, the liquid inside catching the dim light of the bar in a fleeting dance of shadows. With a resolve born of necessity, you downed the contents in one swift motion, the liquid tracing a burning path down your throat, a physical manifestation of the turmoil swirling within. In that moment, the intricacies of your heart's desires, the silent yearnings, and the whispered dreams shared in the quiet with Bucky were drowned in the sharp bite of the drink. There was no love life to dissect, you reasoned, at least not one that could be neatly explained or openly acknowledged under the watchful eyes of your brother. This was a complexity you were not yet ready to unravel, preferring instead the sanctity of ambiguity and the solace found in the unspoken.

From the periphery of your vision, the subtle yet unmistakable shift of the crowd's focus toward your group sent a ripple of tension through the air. Zemo, breaking the mounting silence, uttered something in Russian, his voice a sharp command that instantly put Bucky, who loomed protectively behind you, on high alert. Your grasp of Russian might have been rudimentary at best, but the gravity carried by the word "attack" pierced through any language barrier, sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze darted anxiously between Bucky and Zemo, then to the increasingly hostile encirclement of men.

In a moment driven by instinct more than thought, your hand found Bucky's arm, a silent plea for restraint, an acknowledgment of the heavy burdens he bore and the battles you wished he wouldn't have to fight again. Yet, as the hand of an adversary reached for Zemo, intent on aggression, Bucky's protective instincts overrode any hesitations. The mission's success, the preservation of your collective guise, demanded action.

With a fluidity born of countless battles, Bucky intercepted the stranger's hand, wrenching it into a grim contortion of pain before hoisting him by the collar. The air was punctuated by the thud of the man's body crashing to the ground, a clear signal to the onlookers who, rather than stepping in, recoiled to the safety of the crowd's edges. Their initial shock quickly gave way to the modern reflex of capturing chaos on their smartphones, eager to document the return of the Winter Soldier.

Another assailant lunged forward, driven either by bravado or foolishness, only to meet Bucky's calculated fury. A swift strike to the chest paired with a debilitating kick to the shin sent the man staggering, a prelude to the crushing force of Bucky's elbow against his back. But Bucky was far from done; he delivered a final, forceful kick to the assailant's stomach with such power that the man was propelled backward, colliding with another would-be attacker and sending them both sprawling to the ground.

In those tense moments, Bucky transformed the immediate vicinity into a no-man's land, a clear warning to any who still harbored thoughts of joining the fray. The message was unambiguous: the Winter Soldier, though cloaked in the guise of Bucky Barnes, remained a formidable force, his actions a blend of precision and power that left no room for doubt or defiance.

The melee unfolded with relentless ferocity, each blow landing with a chilling finality. Amidst the chaos, Zemo's unexpected touch on your waist snapped your attention sharply to him, an unwelcome distraction amidst the turmoil. His fingers were cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the skirmish that raged a mere breath away. Holding a shot glass, with another stationed invitingly before him on the bar's counter, Zemo seemed almost nonchalant, as if the violent ballet unfolding around you two was mere background noise.

You could only hope that Sam's gaze was entirely consumed by the spectacle of the fight, lest Zemo's audacity earn him a swift and severe reprimand—the kind that involved a painful reconfiguration of his hand's anatomy. And, should Sam's protective instincts flare up, your carefully maintained cover would be shattered in an instant.

"So," Zemo initiated casually, offering you the glass while securing his own. His demeanor was eerily calm, a man unfazed by the chaos, his curiosity piqued by personal intrigues rather than the potential dangers that lurked in your immediate vicinity. "How long have you and James been seeing each other?"

His question caught you off guard, a blunt intrusion that left you momentarily flustered. "Excuse you?" you retorted, the sharpness in your voice mirroring your surprise.

He downed his shot in one fluid motion, a satisfied exhale following the liquid's descent. "Oh," he dismissed with a nonchalant wave of his hand, a gesture that belied the keen observation behind his words. "Your brother might be wearing blinders, but I certainly do not. It's been quite evident that Barnes has scarcely glanced away from you all evening."

You found yourself grappling for a response, the unexpected scrutiny leaving you unsettled. "Well, uh," you stumbled over your words, grappling for composure. "It's just what he does—staring." Your gaze dropped to the shot glass cradled in your palm, its contents suddenly more appealing than the conversation. With a swift tilt of your hand, you emptied the glass, the liquid courage coursing through you. Instinctively, you braced yourself for whatever probing questions Zemo might pose next, bolstered now by a fleeting rush of boldness from the alcohol.

Zemo's attention subtly shifted behind you, a prelude to his hand sneaking once more to your waist. A wry smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear with a whispered directive, "Get ready." Immobilized by a sudden rush of surprise, you found yourself momentarily unable to react, your mind racing to process the unwelcome proximity.

As you regained your composure, indignation fueling your resolve, your hands began to rise, intent on removing his intrusion. Yet, before you could act, a familiar and comforting warmth enveloped your back. A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as a low, protective growl resonated from behind you, a primal sound that spoke volumes of the tension filling the air.

In the blink of an eye, Zemo's hand was forcibly removed from you, Bucky's intervention swift and silent. The warning in Bucky's eyes was unmistakable, a clear message that brooked no argument. His grip on Zemo's hand tightened, a silent demonstration of his protective instincts. The strain was evident as Zemo's face flushed, a crimson wave ascending his neck in stark contrast to his paling face, a vivid testament to the discomfort and possibly fear induced by Bucky's ironclad hold.

Observing the intensity of the moment, you placed your hand gently atop Bucky's, seeking to diffuse the tension. "It's okay," you whispered soothingly, a plea for peace. "Let him go." Your voice, though soft, carried the weight of your concern, hoping to coax Bucky back from the brink of further conflict.

With a grudging release of pressure, Bucky acquiesced to your request, albeit with a distasteful grunt. He allowed Zemo the mercy of an unbroken hand, a testament to his respect for your wishes. The moment, charged with silent confrontations and unspoken bonds, highlighted the deep connection between you and Bucky, a bond that transcended mere words, resonating with loyalty, protection, and an unyielding sense of unity.

The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy cloud that seemed to weigh down every breath, until the bartender's voice sliced through the silence with the precision of a well-honed blade. "Selby will see you now," he announced, effectively diffusing the charged atmosphere. As you were ushered down the dimly lit corridor by a group of stern-faced men, the arrangement was strategic: Zemo leading, followed by Sam, with you nestled securely in the middle, and Bucky bringing up the rear, his vigilant gaze ensuring no threat would find its way to you unnoticed.

In a fluid motion born of protective instinct, Bucky's fingers found your wrist, gently but firmly pulling you aside into the seclusion of the shadowed alcove. The dim light played across his features, casting deep shadows that sculpted his face with an intensity that was almost breathtaking. His rugged attractiveness, framed in the half-light, struck you with a force that made your heart flutter. "Are you okay?" you found yourself asking, drawn into the complexity of emotions that danced within his eyes. It was clear he was wrestling with his own turmoil, yet his proximity to you, so near that the soft flutter of your eyelashes could have brushed against his cheek, seemed to both unsettle and anchor him.

“Next time he grabs you like that—” He cut himself of, jaw clenching.

As you laid your hand against the solid warmth of his chest in a comforting gesture, a ripple of tension eased from his frame. "It's okay," your whisper broke the intimate silence between you, your gaze lifting to meet his. "I'm okay, promise. He was just trying to get under your skin."

His eyes, a mirror to his soul, roamed over your features with an intensity that felt as though he was memorizing every detail, every curve, and contour, before finally settling back into your gaze. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" His voice, soft yet filled with an emotion that resonated deep within your chest, enveloped you in a warmth that went beyond the physical closeness. In that moment, amidst the shadows and whispers of danger, a connection forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding deepened, transcending the chaos of the world outside.

Your smile, blossoming in response to Bucky's unexpected compliment, was abruptly cut short by Zemo's call for the Winter Soldier, reverberating ominously off the walls. A mutual sigh of resignation passed between you and Bucky. With a bite to your lip, signaling the gravity of the interruption, you took a hesitant step back, murmuring, "We should go."

Bucky's response was a tight nod, the muscles along his jawline tensing visibly as he too made the difficult choice to distance himself. The atmosphere shifted palpably as you entered Selby's domain. She was ensconced regally in an armchair, her fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against its worn fabric, embodying the calm before the storm. "You should know, Baron," she began, her voice cool and measured, "people don’t just come into my bar and make demands."

Zemo, unfazed, countered with equal calmness, "Not a demand, an offer."

Selby's demeanor hinted at a mix of curiosity and caution as she observed the changes in her domain and the players within it. "A lot has changed since you were here last," she remarked, her gaze sliding over Bucky with undisguised interest. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

Zemo, settling himself before Selby with a nonchalance born of confidence, merely shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "People like us always find a way, don’t we? I'm sure you've already figured out what I am here for."

Selby, her attention never straying from Zemo, extended a languid finger toward your brother, her voice taking on a teasing, almost flirtatious tone. "You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger," she purred, her grin sharp as a knife's edge, before shifting her focus back to Zemo. "What's the offer?"

"Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum." Zemo's command hung in the air, heavy with implication. He rose, his movements deliberate, as he made his way to where Bucky and you stood in a silent vigil. The audacity of his next offer sliced through the tension like a cold blade. "And I give you him," Zemo gestured towards Bucky with a chilling casualness, "along with the code words that control him, of course." His fingers dared to trace a path along Bucky's jawline, a presumptuous gesture that hinted at possession. "He will do anything you want." You moved your hand to brush against his, blocking the view with your body, not wanting your cover to blow, also not wanting Bucky to blow up because of the over-the-top trade Zemo was talking about, which he hadn’t disclosed with you "Now, that’s the Zemo I remember," Selby's voice curled with a mix of admiration and threat, her lips twisting into a grin that was as dangerous as it was pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately." She mused aloud, nodding to herself as if affirming her own wisdom. "Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right." Zemo, with a nod acknowledging the compliment veiled as a critique, moved back to his chair, rejoining the precarious dance of conversation.

"The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor," Selby continued, her revelation hanging in the smoky air like a veiled threat. "Doctor Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank, or…" Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head, her gaze sharp, "Or condemn, depending on what side you're on."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?" Zemo's question cut through the tension, his inquiry pointed and loaded with unspoken implications.

Selby stood, her movement fluid as a shadow, drifting behind Zemo. She was about to divulge the answer, a secret that could tip the scales, when the moment was shattered by the unexpected vibration of a cell phone. Sam's cell phone, ingeniously hidden within the confines of your bra, the only place deemed secure given the impracticality of the suit's tiny pockets. The room froze, a tableau of anticipation and dread, as all eyes darted towards you. The vibration continued, a silent herald of impending chaos, until, with a steadiness you hardly felt, you retrieved the phone. The caller ID flashed "Mom jr." — a code name for your older sister, Sarah, that now felt like a harbinger of disaster.

"Go on," Selby's voice was a command laced with curiosity and a hint of menace, her henchman already looming ominously behind her. "Answer it. On speaker."

With a nod, terse and devoid of any option but compliance, you swiped the screen, the green circle heralding a connection fraught with risk. Clearing your throat, an attempt to mask the torrent of nerves, you answered with a voice feigning confidence, "Smiling Tiger."

"...Okay." The brief silence that followed was thick with confusion, Sarah's voice betraying her bewilderment. "Why do you have his phone? Is he there?"

"Uh, yeah, yes, he is."

"Could I speak to him? It's urgent."

"Sure." You navigated the tense atmosphere with caution, aware of the danger that lurked in every corner. Approaching Sam, you offered the phone with a discreet, "Sir."

Sam accepted the phone, his throat clearing a precursor to the conversation. "Hello?"

"Hey, uhm, we need to talk about this situation. It's been driving me nuts."

"What situation are you talking about exactly?"

"Are you high? You know the situation. It’s the only situation me and you have."

"What situation, Sarah? Say it."

"The damn boat. And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank."

Sam's scoff was almost audible, a mixture of disbelief and humor. "The bank, yeah. Laundered so much money," he chuckled. "Yeah, they'll come around."

"If that’s the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed." Your gaze flickered to Bucky, dreading the potential fallout from this precarious bluff.

"Cass! What did I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!" Sarah's exasperated outburst was unexpected, yet somehow, it underscored the normalcy of life's chaos — even when worlds apart, Cheerios could cause turmoil. "Sam, I'm sorry, let me call you back."

"Sam?" Selby's voice, sharp with suspicion, cut through the room. "Who's Sam?" Her eyes scanned the room, landing on one of her men as she gave the lethal order, "Kill them!" No sooner had the command left her lips than a bullet from an unseen sniper found its mark, sailing through the window to claim Selby's life with unerring precision.

As Selby's men, jolted by the sudden turn of events, scrambled to retaliate, the trio leapt into action, their movements a blend of desperation and determination, ready to confront the chaos unleashed by a single, ill-timed phone call.

Sam's movements were swift and precise, his elbow connecting with the gut of the assailant beside him with a force that spoke of urgency and desperation. In a fluid motion, he seized the man's weapon, leveraging his strength to send his adversary crumbling to the floor. Nearby, Bucky confronted another threat, an opponent armed with an automatic firearm. The bullets, however, were no match for Bucky's metallic arm. With an almost serene calmness, he raised his arm, the bullets ricocheting off the vibranium and falling harmlessly to the ground, their lethal intent nullified. With a swift, decisive movement, Bucky disarmed the gunman, the heavy thud of the weapon striking the assailant's head a grim punctuation to the confrontation.

Zemo, meanwhile, exhibited a different kind of strategy. He glided to the side, a ballet of avoidance, demonstrating a preference to remain on the fringes of the physical altercation. His demeanor suggested disinterest, a calculated decision to avoid the fray, yet you knew the truth. Zemo possessed skills honed by experience, a dangerous combatant by any measure, choosing discretion over engagement.

As for yourself, standing on the precipice of engagement, you too could have dismantled any adversary with ease, mirroring Zemo's restraint. Yet, it wasn't the fear of the fight that stilled your hand, nor the dread of physical harm. It was a deeper, more insidious kind of fear that gnawed at your resolve — the fear of responsibility. Sam had seen the toll it took on you, the anxiety that came with wielding your powers. He reassured you, time and again, that it was okay to hold back, understanding the weight that came with such immense power.

You had mastered control over your abilities, a feat that was as much for those around you as it was for your peace of mind. But control was a fragile thing, a constant battle against the possibility of a catastrophic slip. The echoes of the past haunted you, a stark reminder of the chaos unleashed during the battle against Thanos. The risk you had posed to your brother's life was a memory etched in the recesses of your mind, a harrowing reminder of the potential consequences of your powers. The burden of that day weighed heavily on your shoulders, a silent vow to never relive that helplessness, that guilt, again. Control could temper the power, but it could never erase the memories, the fears, or the haunting possibility of what could happen should it ever falter.

The moment unfolded before you with a surreal clarity, as if time itself had bent to accommodate the gravity of what was about to transpire. There stood Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, his figure exuding an aura of solemnity. With a hand stretched towards you, his voice cut through the chaos of your thoughts, delivering the harrowing message that Thanos was on the precipice of ushering in another war.

The ground beneath you felt unsteady, as if it too, shared in your tumult of emotions. Your body was a tempest of sensations, akin to being engulfed in invisible flames, an internal inferno that threatened to consume your very essence. Your hands, held out in front of you, became the focal point of your bewildered gaze. They glowed with an ethereal green luminescence, transforming your eyes into beacons of an otherworldly force. In that moment, you were a stranger even to yourself, your identity obscured by the overwhelming power that surged within you. You feared that even your brother, upon witnessing this transformation, would find himself staring at an unfamiliar figure, your familiar visage masked by an alien force.

It was during this maelstrom of confusion and fear that Stephen Strange recognized the tumultuous energy you were channeling. With a wisdom borne of his experiences with the mystic arts, he extended not just his hand but an offer of guidance and mastery over the forces that now threatened to unravel you.

Amidst this turmoil, a familiar voice pierced the veil of your disorientation. Bucky's voice, imbued with urgency and concern, reached out to you, grounding you back to reality. "We gotta go." His words, simple yet laden with an unspoken promise of safety, beckoned you. As your gaze snapped towards him, you were met with the sight of his outstretched hand, a lifeline in the chaos.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you placed your palm against his, the warmth of his grip a stark contrast to the cold uncertainty that had gripped your heart. Led by Bucky, you began to make your way out of the building, each step away from the epicenter of your crisis a step towards reclaiming the self that had been momentarily lost in the eye of the storm.

As Zemo's directive to abandon their firearms behind echoed in your mind, a profound vulnerability washed over you, intensifying the uncertainty that already clouded your heart. The decision to venture into the unknown without the familiar weight of a weapon at your side left you feeling starkly exposed, each step on the pavement echoing your apprehension.

Amidst the chaos, the glow of countless phone screens caught your attention, their omnipresence a stark reminder of the digital eyes that followed your every move. Your grip on Bucky's hand tightened, a help in centering you amidst the swirling uncertainty, your fingers intertwined with his in a silent plea for reassurance. Bucky, feeling the tremor of your grasp, was confronted with an overwhelming pressure in his chest—a sensation so intense, it seemed as though his heart might shatter through his ribcage. The logical part of his mind suggested that releasing your trembling hand might alleviate some of his distress, disconnecting him from the tangible evidence of your fear. Yet, the thought of pulling you even closer overpowered him, a testament to the protective instinct that surged within him, despite the presence of his partner in crime at his side, equally eager to escape the impending peril and shield you from harm.

Out of the corner of your eye, a figure detached from the crowd caught your attention—a woman, standing apart with her hands mimicking the shape of a gun, playfully ‘shooting’ at your group. This macabre pantomime, juxtaposed against the sea of illuminated screens, shed light on the grim realization that you and your companions had been reduced to mere targets in a deadly game, surrounded by a multitude of unseen adversaries, each one thirsting for blood and the lure of a reward.

In the fraction of a second before you could advance another step, the air was pierced by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. An instinctive fear gripped you, catalyzing a reaction that tore you away from Bucky's grasp. You spun around, just as a barrage of bullets threatened to engulf your group in a lethal storm. Driven by a deep-seated impulse to protect, you extended your hands, your eyes instinctively closing as you tapped into a wellspring of power that had lain dormant within you for far too long. The air around you charged with anticipation, as if the very essence of your being had awakened to confront the danger head-on.

Upon daring to open your eyes, fearing the aftermath of your instinctual reaction, you were confronted with a surreal tableau: bullets suspended mid-air, frozen in time and space, an arm's length away, creating an eerie stillness in the midst of chaos. The sheer number of projectiles, hovering ominously close, sent a shiver down your spine, yet it was the sight of your own fingers, aglow with a radiant green luminance, that truly captivated you. It was a strange juxtaposition—how could something so ethereally beautiful harbor the potential for immense destruction?

Your fascination gave way to action as you turned your palm, the bullets beginning to dissolve into nothingness, disintegrating into a fine mist just before reaching your skin. The urgency to locate your assailant led your eyes to a figure, scant meters away, wielding a machine gun braced against a makeshift stand in the bustling market. With a focused gesture, you manipulated the now-liquefied metal, directing it with lethal precision towards the gunman. He recoiled, anticipating pain or perhaps even death, but instead, you targeted his weapon. The metal swarm enveloped the gun, rendering it inoperable, parts of its mechanism dissolving into oblivion.

The surrounding crowd, momentarily taken aback by the display of power, quickly regrouped, their initial shock transforming into twisted smiles as they once again raised their weapons. It was then that your brother intervened, his hand clasping yours with determined strength, pulling you back into the frenetic escape. The concept of a leisurely retreat was a luxury far removed from reality as you both dashed through the dense throngs of Madripoor, a city now teeming with adversaries drawn by the allure of a bounty. The streets, alive with danger, became a labyrinth as you navigated through the relentless pursuit, the weight of potential violence pressing against you from all sides.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam's grumble about his unsuitable footwear for their frenzied escape almost halted you in your tracks, the urge to chastise him for his complaint bubbling up fiercely.

"I'm wearing six-inch heels, you idiot!" you retorted, your voice slicing through the tension as you were half-dragged, half-ran, your form almost seeming to bounce off the pavement with each step.

Just then, the distinct growl of motorbikes escalated behind you, a clear sign that your pursuers were closing in with alarming speed. Instinctively, you twisted around, freeing one arm from your brother's firm grasp. A brilliant emerald glow enveloped your hand as you unleashed a force resembling a sonic boom towards your chasers. Glancing back, you witnessed the bikers caught in a surreal slow-motion, ensnared within the temporal anomaly you'd unwittingly summoned.

The urgency of your flight tapered off as your brother gradually decelerated, releasing your hand to take in the quietude that had enveloped the scene. Zemo, ever the observer, couldn't hide his admiration, stepping closer with a sly grin. "Quite impressive, if I may say so myself."

“You may not.” His commendation was met with a mutter from Bucky, barely audible yet brimming with protectiveness. Bucky positioned himself squarely between you and Zemo, effectively shielding you from the latter's view. Sam, meanwhile, appeared utterly bemused, hands perched on his hips as he oscillated his gaze between you and Bucky, bewildered by the sudden shift in dynamics.

"Okay, what—?" Sam began, only to be cut off as the moment teetered on the brink of unraveling.

"Well, isn’t this just perfect," a voice chimed from the enveloping shadows, laced with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Emerging into the dim light, a blonde woman approached with her gun poised, her stance radiating confidence and danger. Recognition flickered through your mind, delayed by the surreal context. Sharon Carter, the name finally clicked, associated with tales of Steve Rogers and his erstwhile entanglements. Sam's anecdotes, usually shared with a mix of reverence and jest, painted her in the light of a past fraught with complex allegiances, especially during the so-called Civil War—a term you found overly dramatic for what essentially amounted to a highly publicized skirmish among comrades at an airport.

"Sharon?" Bucky's voice cut through your thoughts, tinged with a blend of surprise and uncertainty. The Sharon Carter you'd heard of through scattered stories seemed far removed from the woman who now stood before you, gun in hand, in the underbelly of Madripoor. It was a reflection, perhaps, of how life's unpredictable currents could sweep anyone into unforeseen harbors.

Her gaze, sharp and unyielding, locked onto Zemo, the intensity of her scorn palpable. "You cost me everything," she accused, the words heavy with resentment. Sam attempted to interject, offering explanations that seemed to dissipate before they could reach her, lost in the void of her grievance. "I stole Steve's shield, remember?" she reminded, her resolve steel-hard, the weapon unwavering in her grasp. "I also took the wings for your ass," she directed at Sam, causing a ripple of tension to pass through you. The mention of sacrifices made—her actions for their benefit—underscored the gravity of her fall from grace. Her focus shifted momentarily to Bucky, implicating him in the web of consequences, before returning to Zemo with a disdainful flick. Finally, her eyes found you, registering your presence with a flicker of surprise. "No idea who you are," she stated, an admission that underscored the complexity of alliances and identities in this shadowy world.

With a determined stride, Bucky advanced towards Sharon, his every step a testament to his intent to defuse the tension that crackled in the air. He engaged her with words, his tone both pleading and firm, navigating through the storm of her fury. Eventually, her grip on the gun loosened, the weapon tucked away after an exasperated sigh, a silent concession to his efforts. Sharon then proposed an unexpected truce, inviting you all back to her sanctuary. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you; moments before, the cold metal of her gun had promised anything but hospitality.

Crossing the threshold into Sharon's abode, you were immediately struck by an array of art that adorned every wall and surface. The collection was staggering, a visual feast of masterpieces that seemed too authentic, too valuable to be merely decorative. You half-joked to yourself about the possibility of the Mona Lisa being tucked away in a corner, marveling at the fortune that surrounded you, captured in oil and canvas.

The offer of a change of attire came next, with Sharon presenting an array of elegant garments that seemed to glide into the room on a valet rod. The promise of shedding your current attire, particularly the torturous heels that had been your nemesis throughout the evening, was a relief. Barefoot, you approached the selection with eagerness, only to have your enthusiasm dimmed by the realization that the options available were far removed from your comfort zone. Accustomed to the simple reliability of sneakers and boots, the sight of such finery felt daunting, alien.

Facing Sharon, a hint of disappointment lacing your expression, you ventured a request, hoping for something more aligned with your sense of style. "Don't you have anything less... that?" The words hung between you, a polite plea for normalcy amidst the opulence that defined her world.

"Like what?" Sharon's question cut through the tension in the room, her gaze drifting momentarily over Bucky and his shirtless state alongside Zemo. The moment made your skin crawl slightly, an unwelcome distraction in the midst of the unfolding scenario.

"Jeans?" you ventured hopefully, trying to steer the conversation back to a more comfortable topic, despite the circumstances.

"We are going to a club in Madripoor," Sharon pointed out, as if the venue demanded a specific dress code that was far from your preference.

"Yes?" you responded, not fully grasping why your suggested attire wouldn't be suitable, your tone a mixture of confusion and mild annoyance.

After a brief pause, during which Sharon seemed to consider her response, she chose to bypass your suggestion entirely, moving past you as if you had become part of the room's extravagant background. Your frustration evident, you rolled your eyes at her dismissive attitude and turned back to the daunting task of selecting an outfit from the array provided. Among the lavish options, you managed to find flared leather leggings and a high-neck crop top with a singular sleeve—a rebellious choice that echoed your own style while avoiding the discomfort of another glitter-infested dress. As you began the awkward dance of changing into the leather pants without first removing your current dress, a subtle commotion caught your attention.

Bucky, ever the protector, had taken it upon himself to ensure your privacy. His large hand found Zemo's neck, not harshly but with enough insistence to pivot the man's attention away from you. However, it wasn't just Zemo's attention he was diverting; his own gaze, filled with an intensity you couldn't quite decipher, kept flickering back to you. Each look seemed to linger a moment too long, filled with an emotion he seemed to struggle to define, let alone express. With a visible effort, Bucky tore his gaze away, a stern resolve setting in as he forced himself to focus on anything but you.

Your brother went to lift his whiskey glass off the table when he spotted what was inside of it. A shiver ran down his as he fished out the little snake part and stood to throw it out the window. The expression on his face made you throw your head back laughing. He raised his brow at you in question. You lifted your hands. "I didn’t do it."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Because whoever did, is a genius." You were about to pull the top over your head when Sam pinched you in the side. "Ow, what the hell, Sam!" With furrowed brows, and the tight top stuck on your shoulders, you tried to kick him in the shin, though he moved back just in time; a broad grin rested on his face. "Too slow, sista," Sam teased, his playful nudge against your head causing your already precarious balance to falter further. With a grunt of mock indignation, you surged forward, aiming a determined chest-bump at your brother, eager to see him mirror your momentary imbalance. Your efforts were rewarded with a triumphant laugh as Sam was forced to step back, the shared moment of childish glee lighting up your features with a wide grin. This brief interlude of sibling rivalry whisked you back to those carefree days of your youth, where even the simplest acts of brotherly teasing felt like the grandest adventures. Back then, Sam could do no wrong in your eyes, the epitome of an older brother in the most magnificent form.

In the midst of your playful scuffle, you were secretly relieved that Sharon had exited the room. Her presence might have added a layer of self-consciousness to the innocent chaos. Although the antics might seem juvenile to an outsider, to you, they were a rare slice of normalcy—a cherished reminder of a life untouched by cosmic wars or Thanos' dread shadow.

As Sam busied himself with selecting an outfit, your struggle with the unyielding fabric of your top grew increasingly frustrating. The material, devoid of any give, clung stubbornly in all the wrong places. With your back to Bucky, a soft sigh of exasperation escaped you. "Buck?" The quiet call for assistance was barely above a whisper, yet it summoned his attention instantly.

"Need a hand?" His voice was close, filled with a gentle concern that made your heart flutter slightly.

"Yes, please," came your subdued reply, the momentary vulnerability feeling strangely intimate. Then, you felt it—his touch. The slight graze of Bucky's skin against yours as his fingers traced a path up your side, his touch delicate yet assured. He navigated the fabric with a tender precision, his fingers briefly pausing at the edge of your top before guiding it smoothly into place. The fleeting caress that followed lingered just long enough to ignite a shiver of anticipation, a warmth blossoming within you that craved the closeness of his embrace. His breath, a warm whisper against the nape of your neck, sent a thrilling chill down your spine.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, the compliment hanging in the air between you, charged with an unspoken emotion that seemed to draw you even closer, tethering your heart to his with an invisible thread of affection and longing.

"I absolutely agree," Zemo's voice cut through the tension, drawing an involuntary growl of annoyance from Bucky. With a gesture of mock surrender, Zemo backed away, his steps carrying him to the bar where three glasses of whiskey awaited their silent call to be savored. Bucky, feeling the palpable shift in the room's dynamics, reluctantly distanced himself from you, his departure leaving a subtle chill in the wake of his warmth. He reclaimed his seat on the sofa, a move you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment over.

Sharon chose that moment to grace the room with her presence, her arrival marked by the lively bounce of her blonde waves. She exuded a casual confidence, her tone light, yet probing. "So," she hummed, curiosity lacing her words, "How's the new Cap doing?"

Before Sam had the chance to form a response, Bucky's voice, laced with a mixture of disdain and resignation, filled the room. "Don’t get me started." His hands found each other, intertwining in an awkward dance as his gaze inadvertently met yours. Even in the simplicity of his all-black ensemble, accentuated by a blazer that lent an air of sophistication, Bucky looked effortlessly handsome, commanding the space around him with an understated elegance.

Sharon, undeterred by the tense atmosphere, pressed on, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Oh, please. You buy into all that stars and striped bullshit." Her pointed gaze shifted to Zemo. "Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend." With a fluid motion, she sank into the space beside Bucky, a deliberate bite of her lip following her words.

The action did not go unnoticed, drawing a frown from you, a silent testament to the unfolding dynamics. Bucky, catching Sam's eye, shared a moment of mutual understanding, tinged with a hint of disbelief. "Wow," he uttered, the word heavy with implication. "She's kind of awful now." His observation, though softly spoken, resonated with a mix of humor and a poignant undercurrent of nostalgia for times and alliances past.

As you momentarily extracted yourself from the animated discussion unfurling within the living room, your attention was ensnared by the relentless buzzing of your phone, a beacon of unchecked notifications. A myriad of messages from your sister painted your screen, a digital mosaic of concern and updates. "I'll be right back," you announced, your voice threading through the dense air of conversation that was currently monopolized by debates over the Flag Smashers. The name itself, a moniker you found both laughably juvenile and misleadingly innocuous, echoed in your thoughts as you distanced yourself from the discourse, finding solace in the quietude of the hallway.

Leaning against the cool, indifferent wall, you began the arduous task of sifting through the digital deluge, your fingers scrolling with practiced ease. It was then, amidst the solitude of your temporary retreat, that the ambiance subtly shifted, heralding the approach of another. The door opened with a hushed creak, and there he was—Bucky, his presence alone commanding your undivided attention.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a gentle intrusion, as he navigated the space around you to claim his own against the wall opposite. His casual demeanor belied the concern etched into the furrows of his brow.

"Hey," you echoed, a mirror of his own greeting, yet laden with an unspoken acknowledgment of the weight he carried in his gaze.

"You alright?" His inquiry was simple, yet laden with layers of unvoiced thoughts and concerns. There was a palpable hesitation in his words, a reluctance to tread upon the terrain of your powers—a subject he knew stirred a tempest of emotions within you. “You used your powers.”

"I did," came your affirmation, your response punctuated with a grin that sought to mask the undercurrent of apprehension that had long shadowed your relationship with your own abilities. "I'm alright, though, really." Your attempt to reassure him—and perhaps yourself—was sincere. "It felt weirdly freeing to use them. To see how well I can actually keep control. They are still kind of scary, though."

As the words tumbled from your lips, Bucky bridged the gap between you, each step he took charged with an unspoken intensity. Suddenly, the world seemed to narrow down to the space that separated you, every detail of his approach etched into your memory—the way the light danced in his eyes, the barely perceptible tension in his jaw, the silent communication of his body language that spoke volumes of his concern and his undeniable pull towards you.

The proximity between you dwindled to a mere breath, a distance so trivial yet laden with a myriad of unspoken possibilities. The air around you thickened, charged with a palpable tension that sent your heart racing, your breaths shallow. The notion of closing the distance, of yielding to the gravitational pull that seemed to draw you inexorably towards him, flickered through your mind like a tantalizing promise. It was an effort to maintain your composure, to anchor yourself to the moment without succumbing to the overwhelming urge to bridge the final vestiges of space with a kiss that threatened to unravel both of you.

Pressed against the cool, unyielding surface of the wall, the intensity of the moment had magnified as Bucky's hands found their way to your waist, his grip tightening with a hunger that sent waves of anticipation coursing through your veins. His large, calloused hands, battle-hardened yet gentle, conveyed a sense of urgency as they dug into your flesh, pulling you impossibly closer into his embrace. The strength in his touch was paradoxically comforting, each finger imprinting a promise of protection and desire onto your skin.

The world around you had faded into a distant murmur, his presence engulfing you, drowning out everything else. Bucky's body molded against yours, his chest to your chest, his hips locked with yours in a dance as old as time. The pressure of his hands on your waist was both a claim and a caress, a testament to the depth of his longing. It was as if he was trying to merge two separate existences into one, to erase any space that still lingered between you.

As his lips moved with a tender ferocity against yours, you could feel the raw power of his emotions, restrained yet palpable. The sensation of being wholly desired, of being pulled into someone's orbit with such intensity, was both exhilarating and terrifying. His touch spoke volumes, whispered of need and want that had been simmering beneath the surface, now unleashed in the privacy of this shared moment.

The hunger in his grasp was matched only by the passion of your response, your own hands exploring the expanse of his back, tracing the lines of muscle and scars that told the story of his past. Together, you were adrift in a sea of heightened sensations, every caress, every kiss, every breath amplifying the connection that had been quietly growing between you. In that moment, with Bucky's hands anchoring you to him, you weren't just touching; you were speaking a language of longing, of mutual understanding and unspoken promises made in the quietude of hearts beating in unison.

A voice unexpectedly cut through the thick haze of the moment shared between you and Bucky. The abrupt sound of Sam’s voice, laced with surprise and a hint of disbelief, acted like a cold splash of reality.

“Someone care to explain what’s going on here?” he demanded, his tone piercing the bubble that had enveloped you and Bucky. The shock of being discovered, especially by your brother, sent a jolt through you, compelling you to break the kiss.

Oh, no.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier

[happypopcornprincess]

A slow burn where Joaquin Torres and the redder like each other but they keep dancing around it even though everyone else knows and tells them all the time.

@samwilson-mylove honey, I could not thank you enough for this request I have literally worked on this for 3 weeks to make it a cute fluff with a hint of angst that Joaquin and the reader deserves! I tried my best, hope you like it :)

Project Aphrodite

Pairings - Joaquín Torres x Avenger!Reader (Romantic)

Yelena x reader, Peter Parker x Reader, Kate x Reader(Platonic)

Premise - When the Avengers get tired of watching you and Joaquin dance around your feelings for each other, they take matters into their own hands

Word Count - 5.7K (Approx)

Warnings - brief mention of sex, a shit ton of fluff :)

Note - The whole story is set around somewhere between Thanksgiving and New Year, and I have made it into a Holiday Fic. I am not very known at US festivals and I just wrote whatever I knew from movies and web series. It's an AU so everyone is alive and well.

My Main Masterlist || Requests are open! Keep ‘em coming 😏❤

---/---/---

Thanksgiving, 25 November

“You’re staring darling.”

“Shut it Parker” you growl.

You were staring. God, how could he be so fucking flawless?

You would expect someone on their third lap around the Avengers compound to be drenched in sweat, breaking breath, looking 2 minutes away from death, but not Joaquin. He was unfazed by it. From the top floor gym, your eyes didn’t leave him every time he appeared in front of the glass-paned gym.

“They’re still dancing around?” a high-pitched voice with a Russian accent came from behind you. Yelena was looking at you and Peter as she stood near the dumbbells, mouth wide open. “Sadly yes” Peter let out a dramatic sigh and looked at you. You rolled your eyes.

From his arrival in the compound, you two clicked right away. You became friends in no time. You were a team on and off the field. You trusted each other to have your back. So much that you could walk into a gunfight blindfolded without a second thought because you know he will have your back. But somewhere between the innocent smiles and hand holdings, you realized you liked him more than a friend.

It was obvious to everyone who looked at you that you liked each other. Despite being an agent of shield and an Avenger, kicking asses on the field, and being accepted in the Avengers after helping them in Sokovia, you were scared to tell him your true feelings towards him. You didn’t know what he felt about you. You didn’t want to lose him; he was a kind person. And he has been a good friend. You don’t want to hurt him. You could never hurt him.

It was a disaster. And you were sure by the side glances you received from your colleagues every time they saw you two together, everyone knew it.

Yelena and Peter stood on either side of you watching him as he wiped his face with the rim of his sleeveless shirt. His toned abs are on full display. Yelena let out a low whistle

"Y/N bag him or I will" Peter replied.

“Hey!” all three of you turned as Kate cried out from the treadmills, “Are you done? Can a girl work out in peace without everyone drooling over that poor guy? Thank you”

“Ignore her she’s just trying to impress Clint Barton,” said Yelena, her gaze never leaving Joaquin.

“I heard that”

“Well running on a treadmill won’t do it. Tell her to go shoot something” Peter followed.

“I heard that too!”

“Okay, I just realized Tony asked me to help him with something so I will leave. Now.” As much as you loved all your friends, it was simply intolerable once they ask you to pick sides after they break out into a brawl over the tiniest arguments. You pick up your bag and exit the gym.

Behind you, Yelena, Peter, and Kate stood in a circle.

“I guess we have to start project Aphrodite right fricking now! I cannot handle one more minute of this… regency romance shit.” Kate whispered.

“Can we call it project Eros instead? He was the god of love after all” Peter says.

“No, it’s too late for that.” Kate stopped, “although, we can call it Project Cupid because…”

“Okay, enough with the Greek Gods references Percy Jackson Fanclub we need to go.” Yelena hissed out.

“You read Percy Jackson?” both of them asked in unison.

“Yeah, all of them. "I am not uncultured, I assassinated people," she said proudly.

Kate remained speechless as Peter announced, "OK, we are getting distracted. Let’s execute stage one tonight.”

“Yeah okay, let’s go!” they high-fived each other and headed outside.

Stage One - The Elevator

Three days after Thanksgiving, 28 November

“Wait!” you say as you near the elevator. Someone pushes their hand out and stops the doors from closing. You run inside and look up at the person to thank them. You meet a pair of lovely brown eyes.

“hey” He smiles

"Hello," you reply as you stand next to him as the elevator starts to move.

“You’re heading to the conference?” he asks.

“Yes. I was halfway through my coffee when I saw the message. I ran right here.” You let out an awkward laugh.

“Same, I just got up.” He laughs with you.

You hear a peculiar sound echo through the metal walls of the elevator, and a few seconds later it stopped.

Eight floors above you, Peter, Kate, and Yelena cheered in his room watching the security footage. “Okay, jam the mobile networks.” Yelena turned to Peter who was already on his laptop typing away. Meanwhile, Kate made sure nobody noticed they were messing with security and bypassed the security footage and elevator status so they appeared to be working. The fake conference e-mail was a stupid idea but somehow it worked!

Which meant, you and Joaquin were stuck in there for as long as they wanted.

“Are you getting any service?” he asks as he walks around the elevator looking through his phone. You took a seat on the floor leaning against the wall, facing the door, and looking at him. You gave up on contacting someone as you saw no service on your phone.

“Joaquin” you call out as he gazes at you with a worried expression. He was tense about the situation.

“Have a seat” you tap the floor next to you. He looks at you and then at the floor and takes a seat, splaying his legs out. He leans against the wall and takes a long exhale.

He sighs. "We're going to be late for the conference.”

“I know.” You look at him to see his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the ceiling.

“Others will know our situation. I believe they are trying to get us out this very moment." You smile sympathetically at him.

“They will probably think I skipped it knowingly.”

“What! No! Why would you think that?”

“I just don’t want Sam to think I'm falling behind. I have to be the highest at everything. He’s Captain America! He is perfect, the leader of our team, and one of the finest people I have ever encountered. What if he thinks I’m not capable of the title of Falcon if I can’t even get to a conference in time?"

You sit up and look at him. You never thought Joaquin might doubt himself. He always carried himself with such confidence and courage, that it was difficult to believe he ever felt low.

“You know, on my first mission with the Avengers, I tried my best to keep my cool but I was terrified.” You closed your eyes as you recalled your first mission. You never talked about this to anyone, and he was the first one to hear this, "I saw all these super people rushing in and out of buildings carrying injured people in carriers and saving them from robots and I felt… small. I was just a girl, fighting alongside Gods and super soldiers with the experience I know I could never gain. But then after the fight, we came back to the compound, and the whole ride back, I realized I have put them on a pedestal all my life. I thought they were invincible, but I saw that they were just like the rest of us. With worries, fears, and memories.”

You continue when he doesn’t say anything, “So stop comparing yourself to them. They have done this for longer than any of us. When they first started, they fought, they got hurt but they always stood together. If that is not human, I don’t know what is. Of course, you will be behind them, maybe for a month or a year, but then you will get better. So, stop trying to be flawless among people who aren't either. Be yourself, and move forward at your own pace.”

Upon gazing at him, you realize that he was already looking at you, stunned. You kept looking at each other for some time

“Thank you. "Y/N, I didn’t know I needed that.” His face relaxes into a gentle smile. You subconsciously copy his. “I never thought you would feel this way. I mean, I have seen trained killers running away looking at you." He lets out a laugh, “Also because you run headfirst into danger any chance you get.”

That caught you off guard and you laughed, throwing your head back, “Yeah, Tony says I got that from Steve.”

You laughed together, the stuck elevator no longer bothering you. And just then, the elevator starts to move. It opens on the designated floor, and Steve is standing there with bed hair. 

“The conference hasn’t started?” Joaquin’s voice breaks you from the utter shock of watching the former Captain America standing in front of you in a sweatshirt. He never wears a sweatshirt.

“What conference?” he asks you.

Stage Two - Movie Night

A random evening, 10 December

“Hey Y/N” Peter called you as you exited the elevator. It was movie night, and you were always early to set up the living area with Natasha and Steve.

“Hey Peter!” you said.

“I need your help actually," Peter said.

“Okay,” you reply, a bit bewildered. Peter never asked for help.

“It’s a school project about a report on the most influential books of the 20th century. Given the fact that you read so many books, you must give me an idea.” He smiled.

“Okay, sure. But…”

“No! Y/N you must give me an idea right now.” He said again.

You squint your eyes at him. Peter never acted like this. “Are you okay?” you ask him.

“No. I mean, yeah, a little tensed. I need to submit it in three days. Ned and MJ have already done it, so yes, he said. You softened a bit. “Okay.” You give him a warm smile and write down some ideas in his notebook.

At the same time, Yelena and Kate stopped Joaquin on the doorsteps of his room and started asking him about his latest mission. “Joaquin, I want to hear everything about it!’ Kate said excitedly as she looked at Yelena for help. “Yeah, yeah! I’m really eager to know about your time there.” She said with a forced smile.

“Guys, I already told you, I didn’t see much. It was an intelligence mission, nothing very exciting.” He spoke.

“But you must have seen something,” Kate said again.

“Okay, let me think. Oh!” he said excitedly.

“What!” they repeated

“I saw the café where they shot some scenes from Ocean’s Eleven."

“I thought there were only five oceans,” Yelena said.

“No, it's a movie,” Kate said.

“let’s watch it tonight! If we got there early, at least Peter won’t put on Star Wars again.”

They looked at each other as to what to do next but in this hesitation, they let Joaquin go. When they realized, he was already in the elevator. Coincidentally, you walked in at the same time. Everyone was already there, and there were only a few seats left. You looked around for the usual binbag you sat on everytime, but it was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, hey Y/N. Hi Joaquin!” Peter cried out from the couch, crushed between Sam and Bucky.

“What? Looks like there is only one seat left for you two” Yelena said from her place beside Kate and Natasha. They shared a look.

“Yelena, you were…” Joaquin was about to ask how she was here before him but then Tony’s booming voice came through the speakers-

“OKAY EVERYONE TAKE THEIR SEATS AND STAY QUIET I’M STARTING THE MOVIE!”

“Tony! Calm down!” Steve shouted from his seat.

“I AM CALM! I AM STARTING THE MOVIE! BABY FALCON TAKE YOUR SEAT!” he screamed into the wireless mic connected to the surround sound system.

“I regret suggesting the mic system every time for this…” Clint pointed to Tony and sat back with Natasha.

You glanced at Joaquin to see him looking at you.

“After you,” he said.

You sheepishly sat on the love seat trying your best to leave space for him. But it wasn’t enough. He sat really close to you; your sides pressed together. So much that you could feel his body heat. This was the closest you have ever been.

“Here,” he took both of your legs and put them on his. You were practically sitting on his lap, leaning against his body.

“Are you comfortable or…” you stated but he cut you off.

“No, no this is fine.” He smiled at you.

His familiar scent engulfed you. It was a mix of the sandalwood soap you gifted him on thanksgiving, and a scent so like him. His features softened when he caught you looking at him. He smiled and went back to watch the movie, while you reminded yourself to breathe and turned back to the movie.

Peter, Yelena, and Kate shared a silent victory.

Stage Three – The Ball

Stark's Christmas Party, 24 December

As Yelena walked up to the bar, she fiddled with her emerald choker necklace. For the ball, Natasha forced her into a golden dress gown, which she absolutely loathed. It was not her color, and it had no pockets.

Peter looked at her from his seat as she stood near him, “Wow Yelena, you look…”

She didn’t let him finish, “One word about this dress and I’ll hang you on the ceiling” she stared daggers at him.

He was dressed in a blue suit complete with a tie. He was here as a normal intern at stark industries, not as spiderman.

“Ready?” Kate waltzes in between them before Yelena actually hangs him from the ceiling. Yelena looks at her and realizes she was wearing the same dress she wore to her mother’s Christmas ball a year ago. That certainly did not help as memories of their horrid elevator conversation surfaced in her mind.

“Absolutely. Let’s do this.” Peter stands up from his seat and looks at the DJ for the night, none other than his high school frenemy, Flash. He signals him with a thumbs up, and he nods in agreement.

For the third stage, they could not get a better setting to play matchmaker to you both than the Annual Christmas Party of Tony Stark. As Kate once said, what better way to kickstart a romance than a ball?

On the other side of the room, you were standing in a corner drinking champagne. You would enjoy a ball or a party any other day, but your eyes searched for someone who was not present that evening. You looked rather stunning wearing the backless violet dress Kate laid out for you, a bit of smoky eye makeup paired with diamond earrings. You looked like you walked out of a Bond movie. But the friendly compliments and jealous stares all evening meant nothing because you awaited that one person to look at you.

It was crazy. You felt like you were a teenager again, crushing on a guy way above your league. Then watching him helplessly as he dated the popular girls and paid no attention to you. Still, somewhere, a tiny voice in your head said

But he is different.

As you saw guests and colleagues waltz on the dance floor, you couldn’t take it any longer. He wasn’t here of course and looking at the happy couples dancing to the music without any care in this world, you missed him.

But as you turned around to head towards the elevator to your room, you bumped into someone. You stepped back to apologize but one look at his face and the words died on your tongue.

You were certain he stole the outfit from a movie, but you can't quite remember which one, because one glimpse at him and you were lost. He was dressed in a three-piece black and white suit. His hair, which he always combed and kept down, was falling over his forehead in its natural elegant curls.

And his breast pocket contained a pocket square, Violet. He was awestruck looking at you, his jaw slightly open.

“Hi.” He finally says

“Hey Joaquin” you smile at him.

“You look pretty.” He smiles at you.

“You look pretty too,” you say to him.

“Thank you. Didn’t know we would be matching.” He lets out a laugh, glancing at his pocket square. He made a mental note to thank Peter for forcing him to wear the pocket square. What a coincidence!

"Yeah, I see." you laugh, hiding your smile behind your hand.

“You look like Vesper Lynd from Casino Royale", he says.

Your eyes met his and it clicked. James Bond. Of course, he was dressed exactly like James Bond.

“Well, you look like Bond, so I guess we are actually matching.” You shyly confess.

And then the music slowed down and another song started playing ---

“I love this song!” you cry out.

“Really, me too!” he says.

“Wanna dance?” he asks as the opening lines to an infamous One Direction song blasts through the speakers.

 You run to the dance floor and laugh as you see Joaquin walking on the dance floor bopping his head to the music. Peter, Yelena, and Kate join you and you form a circle to dance and sing along with the lyrics. It didn’t take long for others to join and the dance floor soon turned into a rave. Peter absolutely kills his early 2010s dance moves as all of you cheer him on.

When the song ended, it faded into a slow dance number.

Peter quickly turns to Kate and takes her hand. She starts dancing with him as Yelena grabs hold of Steve and they sway to the music. He looked puzzled at first but he would never say no to a girl for a dance.

And that left the two of you. Your heart beats faster as he turns to you and offers his hand. You look at it and then at Joaquin and take his hand. The warmth of his hand is welcoming as he leads you to the center. He places his hand on your bare back and you place yours on his shoulder.

You moved together, his eyes never leaving yours. He swayed you slowly to the music, you followed his lead. At that moment, you felt like nothing else mattered in his arms.

“I was about to leave the party a while ago,” he says halfway through.

“Why?” you ask him.

“I don’t know, just felt really uneasy. Everyone was circling me asking so many questions about the falcon, Sam, and Bucky. So, I was standing in a corner looking at everyone and then, I saw you.”

Your heart pounded as soon as he said that. Suddenly you notice how he feels against your body. You were too engrossed with each other to notice almost all the Avengers looking at you two, sharing knowing looks.

“You looked beautiful; I couldn’t leave without meeting you. And it looked like you were searching for someone.” He gives you a sly smirk. You couldn’t help yourself as heat rise up to your face.

Is there any chance that he actually likes you back?

Lost in his eyes, you did not notice two figures watching you a bit too eagerly from the bar.

"That worked out way better than I thought it would” Kate announces as she brings shots to where Peter and Yelena stood, looking at Joaquin make his way off the floor.

“What do you think he said to her?” Yelena asks as she gulps down the whole drink in one go.

“Well, she left smiling as Christmas came early, so I guess he said something flattering,” Peter says, wincing as the burning tequila makes its way down his throat.

“Wait, how old are you?” Kate asks Peter but is interrupted by Natasha’s silky voice coming from behind her.

“So, what’s the next stage of Project Aphrodite?”

They whipped their heads to her and looked at each other in absolute horror.

“Oh please,” she laughs, “I knew something was off at movie night. You three won’t stop smiling at each other, even when Henry Cavil was on screen”

They groaned in unison. Everyone knew about the ever-present love of the trio for Henry Cavil. Of course, it was Natasha who figured out the whole thing first. It was expected, but they thought they were careful.

“Whatever you’re planning, we want in,” Tony slides in and smacks Peter’s head while taking his glass away, “so you stop making minors drink at my party.”

Peter whispers a quiet “Sorry” that got overshadowed by Bucky, “Yeah, it’s been a while since I played matchmaker.” He arrives with Steve on his heels and Clint and Banner slide in too.

Yelena, Peter, and Kate exchange glances and tell them about the next phase.

Stage Four – The Mistletoe

Christmas Eve, 25 December

Joaquin woke up to the faint sound of Christmas music. He slowly opens his eyes and smiles at the thought of you.

Last night was magical for him. You looked gorgeous in that dress as you danced with him. The way that one curl of your hair fell on your face, how you laughed while dancing to your favorite song. You were known for being the bubbly and lively member of the Avengers, but it was the first time he saw you like that. Blissful.

He gets up throws away the covers and suddenly shivers.

“Friday”, he asks in a sleepy tone, “can you please raise the temperature?" He puts on his sweater.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible Mr. Torres.” The automated voice fills in.

“Why?” he asks, confused.

“The system is rebooting; it will take me an hour to get the compound’s heating system online.”

He stops in his steps. The only person who had authorization for the system reboot was Tony. Why would he do it on Christmas morning?

He didn’t think much about it as he got fresh and walked to the common room/kitchen. The only place that had a heating system of its own, separate from the rest of the compound. As he neared, he could hear the Avengers cheering from the kitchen, and when he reached the threshold, he knew why it was so.

There was a huge bush of mistletoe hanging on the archway leading to the common room, and Sam and Bucky were standing under it.

Looking at both of their disgusted faces, he bursts out laughing. Bucky shoots him a death glare and he shuts up.

“I did not sign up for this, this was supposed to be fun! We were- CLINT FOR GOD’S SAKE PUT THE CAMERA DOWN!”

“It’s a smartphone, grandpa!” His voice came from somewhere behind Natasha.

“What the hell man? Just kiss me and get done with it! You’re making this awkward.” Sam shouted.

Bucky looked up at the ceiling begging for tolerance. He looked at Sam and left a peck on his cheek. Everyone groaned in frustration. “Boo!” Tony screamed as he threw popcorn at Bucky and Sam as they walked into the room.

He was so absorbed in their drama that he failed to notice the figure standing beside him as he walked into the room.

“Stop!” Peter screamed and shot up from his seat. He stops and instinctively looks to his side, and freezes.

It was you.

In your oversized hoodie and unkempt hair, it seemed like you just woke up and walked into the kitchen. You looked rather cute like that. But looking at him, your eyes widened and any remnants of sleep left your body.

You were standing in the doorway, under the mistletoe.

“Guys…” you turned first, raising your hands as to negotiate, but they had already started chanting; “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You looked at him as his face was frozen in horror. You wanted to say something but you could barely gather your thoughts as the voices around you overwhelmed you.

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” He said loud enough for you to hear, but low enough so the others won’t.

“Do you want to do it?” you ask him. And you saw him blushing hard.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He said nothing as he leaned forward. You could swear time was moving painfully slow but you met his lips eventually. He pressed a chaste kiss on your lips and retreated. You didn’t even have the chance to feel all the emotions flowing through you when you saw everyone cheer! You look at him and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and walked away. His hurried steps led him outside.

The laughter died down after the others noticed what happened. Tony looked back and forth between him and you while Kate, Yelena, and Peter looked sympathetically at you. Your heart broke. Your anger grew.

You paid no heed to what everyone around you was saying and followed him. When Peter tried to follow, Yelena grabbed his hand. “We did what we could. Now it’s up to them”. He looked at Kate and saw her nodding too. He stayed back.

You stepped outside to see everything was covered in a light fall of snow, like a white blanket. And your hoodie and pajamas did nothing to protect you from the harsh winter air. You looked around trying to see where he went, and it suddenly hit you.

Of course, he went there.

---/---/---

One year ago

It was a quiet evening, the sun setting over the New York horizon, the water of the lake calm and still. You were sitting under a tree near the compound's lake reading your book. It had been a grueling week. After three consecutive missions offshore, you were finally back at the compound. You wanted to do nothing but sit and read quietly.

You didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you, but from the corner of your eye, you saw a figure standing some few feet away from you, looking at the Lake. You close your book and look at him. He was wearing a black bomber jacket over jeans. His face was turned away from you, and he didn’t look familiar.

He turned towards you, smiled, and said “Hi.”

You waved at him with a smile and then his face changed into one of surprise.

“You’re Y/N, right?” he asked, “I, uh, I saw you on TV” he rubbed the back of his head which you would later realize was a nervous tactic of him.

That made you laugh. He started walking towards you and you got up from your seat. He stands a few feet away from you and up close you could see he was a handsome man. His clothes might have been basic but they were clean and proper, his stance straight.

Military

You could tell his hair was growing out beyond the frame of his usual hairstyle, and his smile, goddamn, was calming. His gaze turned to the book you were holding. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, it’s just Sam told me to wait here and I thought nobody was here.”

“It’s alright. You know Sam?”

“Yeah, I am supposed to officially meet everyone tomorrow but he bought me here today to give a tour.”

And you remembered Steve talking about a new recruit during the missions, how Sam gave him the mantle of Falcon now that he is Captain America.

“You’re the new recruit.” You said with a sly smile, holding your book close to your chest. He gave you a lopsided grin,

“Yes ma’am.”

“Please, It’s just Y/N”

“Okay Y/N, I’m Joaquin. Nice to meet you.” And you shake hands.

“Well Y/N, I hope you help me out when I get here.” He speaks

“Of course, I will.” You said as Sam arrived. He took Joaquin with him, and while walking back, he turned and waved at you.

From time to time, you would find yourself in the same place with him. After a long mission or a bad day, or when you just wanted to get out, you would sit there and he would join you after a while.

 You never told anyone this and neither did he. It was your escape, away from everyone.

---/---/---

You see him standing at the exact place where you met him for the first time a year ago. Instead of the warm and welcoming summer evening, it was a cold winter morning. He was overlooking the partially frozen lake of the compound. You approached him, the wind blowing behind you penetrating the thin layer of your hoodie and invading your skin, making you shiver. He looked back at you and let out a frustrated sigh.

“What are you doing here Y/N?”

“What are you doing here? You just ran out of there without a word!” you scream out.

“What was I supposed to say after that?" He pointed towards the compound, “Please just, let me gather my thoughts.”

“Gather your thoughts? You left me standing in front of everyone after you kissed me.”

“I just wanted to get out.”

“Oh, was it that terrible? That you ran out!” you scream in frustration, hot tears brimming in your eyes.

His gaze softened when he realized how he had hurt you unknowingly.

“I looked like a complete idiot. Everyone was looking at me and… and you just left me there!”

He stepped towards you with quick steps through the snow and cupped your face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t realize how much I hurt you I never meant to do so I’m sorry.”

Tears kept falling as you stood there unmoving, his hands too warm to move away from, you leaned into his touch.

“I just got nervous. I’m sorry Y/N”

“It’s alright.” You say honestly, looking at him. You move closer and wrap your arms around him, engulfed in his warmth. He hugged you back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Just don’t ever run away leaving me with Tony staring at me like mannequins.” His chest rumbled with laughter as he said, “Okay. I promise I won’t leave you.”

You look up to see him looking at you.

“Ever.” He said before leaning in slowly towards your lips. You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him. His lips were cold, but they were so soft. Unlike the previous one, this one was better. He placed his hand on your cheek and pulled you closer. You dared and placed your hands on his shoulder, pushing him towards you. When you both retreated, you were breathless.

“I like you a lot.” You blurt out before you could stop yourself. He raised his eyebrows and let out a laugh. “I like you too. His puffy lips turned into a smirk, and you both giggled. You visibly shiver as cold air blows on your back. He looks at you and realizes you are just in your hoodie and sweatpants.

"Y/N! It's 35 degrees where's your coat!"

"I... I was finding you." your teeth clatter as you speak, realizing how cold it was once your anger died down. He zips down his jacket and wraps you under it, sharing his jacket with you. You hug his torso and lean onto his side.

"Let's go inside, get you warm." He places a kiss on your forehead and you walk inside, never once leaving his side.

---/---/---

Bonus Scene

New Year's Eve, 1 January

“Okay. Tell me when you both realized that you were it!” Carol sat in front of you both after the New Year’s Dinner at the compound. Following a heavy dinner, everyone sat down together in the common room with blankets spread on the floor and the sofas. Everyone was present with their families, even Carol showed up from some galaxy she told us was 30 light-years away from ours.

You looked at Joaquin while sitting on his lap at the same time he looked at you, and smiled, “I don’t know, it’s just one day I realized maybe I cared about him a bit more than friends should.”

He laughed and hugged your waist, “well it was on the elevator for me. She told me something that I needed to hear for a long time. I realized what my true feelings were towards her.” You shared warm smiles reminiscing that day.

“Whoa, elevator? When did this happen?” Carol asked in a teasing tone.

“Right after Thanksgiving, we were stuck in an elevator for almost 30 minutes.”

“wait,” Laura, the former Mockingbird, and Clint’s wife, added, “And nobody overruled the system to get you out.”

Clint and Tony shared a look that made them realize they had messed up.

“Uh Y/N…” Clint began but then Joaquin spoke up, “No. And when we reached the floor we saw Steve. He said there was no conference. But we got e-mails. Both of us.”

“What?” Laura was about to say something when Clin caught her hand and gestured for her to stop talking.

“That’s weird,” Carol said quietly.

“C’mon guys you are overthinking this!” Sam tried to cheer you up but you suddenly brainstormed while turning to Joaquin, “Why were you wearing the purple square at the Christmas ball? The same shade as mine?”

He looked confused for a minute before he answered, “I was going for a white one, matching my shirt but Peter told me to wear the square.”

“Kate bought the violet dress for me; I was planning to wear something else.” You reply automatically, the gears in your head turning.

“The Movie Night. When we sat together, my binbag was missing. That’s why we had to sit together.”

“And we were the last to arrive although…”

You both slowly turned to Peter, Yelena, and Kate sitting together not far from you, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Peter was with me.”

“Kate and Yelena were with me.” You both speak at the same time.

Peter saw the exact moment when it dawned on your face, which pretty soon turned into a scowl.

“Did you set us up?” You could feel Joaquin standing up behind you as you said that.

“Okay guys it backfired, RUN!” Kate whispered and the trio was on their feet in record time.

You ran behind them, Joaquin on your toes while your fighting instincts kicked in. The Avengers could do nothing but watch as the almost comical chase broke out in front of them.

You cornered Peter around a table while Joaquin grabbed Kate's arms. He held her tight as she tried to wiggle away.

“We were sick and tired of watching you drool over each other, okay! You were not doing anything so we had to step in!” Peter screamed.

“And judging by the noises I heard last night coming from your room, you sounded really happy,” Yelena shouted standing on the open kitchen’s tabletop. You and Joaquin looked at her, shooting daggers from your eyes but she continued, “I share a wall with you Y/N.” and smirked.

You let out a scream and lunged at Peter, who shot webs on the ceiling and swung towards Yelena. Kate managed to get away from Joaquin, and the cat chase continued.

"Should we stop them?" Bruce asked everyone.

"Nah, I want to see how this turns out," Carol announced with a sly smirk.

---/---/---

Movies Referenced - Immortals (Henry Cavil), Casino Royale(Y/N and Joaquin's dresses for the evening are directly inspired by the pool table scene with Vesper and Bond)

My Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @hoennsficrecs @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @samwilson-mylove  @xbuchananbarnes  @jenniweaslee

#marvel #mcu #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #tfatws #fanfiction #mcu x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #joaquin torres series #joaquin torres one shot #joaquin torres headcannons #joaquin imagine #joaquin torres smut #marvel one shot #mcu oneshot #oneshot #kate bishop #yelena belova #joaquin torres drabble #peter parker #avengers fic #avengers

[ao3feed-sambucky]

June 14th, 2025 (I've been waiting for you my whole life)

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/44210539

by wikiangela

A year after getting engaged, Sam and Bucky get married.

Takes place after the events of my fic "sounds like an angel (he might be a demon)".

Words: 3582, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of sounds like an angel - series

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Sarah Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Shuri (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

Additional Tags: Oneshot, continuation/addition to sounds like an angel, Weddings, Wedding Fluff, Established Relationship, Established Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson, Husbands, Marriage, Fluff, POV Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes Loves Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson Loves Bucky Barnes, Anticipation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spoilers, fic spoilers, Canon Divergence - Post-Episode: s01e06 One World One People (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier), Post-my sambucky fic actually lol, Boys In Love, I'm Bad At Tagging, Cheesy, Sappy, Sam is so thirsty for Bucky I'm sorry lol, Implied Sexual Content

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/44210539

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT

[midnightstar-90]

Marvel Masterlist

Taglist | Request | Wattpad Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

A Bit Of Something Different (Requested)

Summary: Y/N moves from Y/H/T to Brooklyn, and on her first day of school in her new town, she has the worst morning imaginable. But things turn around when she's saved from the terrible nightmare.

Broken Series (Coming In The Future)

Book 1 (Captain America: The First Avenger):

Book 2 (Captain America: Civil War):

Book 3 (Avengers: Infinity War & Endgame):

Book 4 (Falcon and the Winter Soldier):

Peter Parker

WHO’S THAT?

Summary: After Morgan’s curiosity finds a box of Peter Parker's things, she learns a bit about the boy from her sister.

Loki

Beautiful Memories

Summary: Loki watches his memories inside the TVA theater room.

Peter Maximoff / Pietro Maximoff / Ralph Bohner

Doppelganger

Summary: Y/N exists in both the Avengers universe and the X-men universe. In the X-men universe, she is Peter’s boyfriend. In Avenger’s universe, she is the Maximoff twin’s best friend. Peter sees one familiar person in Wanda’s alternate reality.

Wanda Maximoff

Trapped Series (Coming In The Near Future)

Miguel O'Hara

Nothing Like The Present~ Oneshot

Summary: Miguel and his Spider-girlfriend or boyfriend (However you get down) taking a nice little jog around the neighborhood. A woman jogs past with her baby in its stroller, and Miguel can't help but admire his significant other admiring the baby, making plans, in his head, for the future.

#bucky barnes #peter parker #loki #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #ralph bohner #wanda maximoff #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #marvel #evan peters #mcu #xmen #aaron taylor johnson #sebastian stan #tom hiddleston #tom holland #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #masterlist #request #taglist #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #loki x reader #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara

[its-all-ineffable]

WIP tag & ask game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you, and I'II post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it.

Thanks for tagging me @thefairylights!💖 Just a warning, I have SO MANY WIPs it's insane!

'Cause we were born to be the pawn, In every lover's game (AMC IWTV, part of my current fic series Mastermind)

My high hopes are getting low (Stranger Things)

Come down to the Black Sea, swimming with me (The Batman 2022)

Fem!Bruce & Titans fic (HBO Titans)

ZSJL found family fic (Zack Snyder's Justice League/DCEU)

Dream and Johanna oneshot (The Sandman netflix)

Thomas finds Anna fic (Downton Abbey)

IT Chapter 2 fix-it (IT 2019)

Justice League x Titans crossover (DCEU and HBOTitans)

Lois x Clark fic (DCEU)

TFATWS Ep 4 fix-it (MCU/The Falcon & The Winter Soldier)

Sanders Sides fic SvS Redux (Sanders Sides)

Star Trek Beyond fic (Star Trek AOS)

TUA mother fic (The Umbrella Academy)

TUA series 1 fix-it (The Umbrella Academy)

X-Men FC & TUA crossover (X-Men First Class & The Umbrella Academy)

X-Men FC fix-it: beach divorce (X-Men First Class)

X-Men FC fix-it: kids are saved (X-Men First Class)

Tagging (no pressure) @xstick-noodlesx @mxliv-oftheendless @peacockfeatherbookmarks @theredrenard @fandom-star @echosilverwolf @lazulibundtcake @rockingrobin69 @scarlct-vvitch @theimprobabledreamer @navajolovesdestiel and anyone else who wants to send an ask or talk about their WIPs!

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41166372

I'm Stupid by Legends_Never_Die Bucky and Sam are sick of Peter being smarter than them so they decide to play a prank...that goes wrong. Words: 2158, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 10 of Sam & Bucky & Peter Oneshots Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Peter Parker, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Misunderstandings, Pranks and Practical Jokes, prank gone wrong, Sad Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Sam Wilson

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

[l0verb0t]

REQUESTS

REQUESTS INFO.

I can write oneshots, drabbles, hcs, & fic series. You can be as thorough as you want when requesting something. Inserts are automatically given they/them or no pronouns if not specified. Requests will usually take a week or two to complete. If you have any questions, please ask & I'll try to reply as soon as I can.

(more conditions + character roster under the cut.)

OKAY WITH DOING: fluff, angst, romantic/queerplatonic & familial/platonic reqs, specific pronoun inserts (ex. xe/xem or neopros.), & polyam reqs.

DEPENDS: coming out reqs, song/lyric reqs, possessiveness/jealousy, && female insert reqs. (the last one heavily depends. if it's for a type of group that's rarely represented, ex. disabled, of color, trans, etc. i'll heavily consider it.)

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES: sexual content (implied is a maybe, but that'll mostly be in a playful/joke form), heavy gore, age gaps, minor × adult reqs, incestous reqs (all forms - step, foster, & familial figure count), celebrity/actor reqs, &&& abuse/yandere.

CHARACTER ROSTER.

[ Mutuals and/or friends can request sources & characters outside this list. | More to be added. | These lists are for characters I know well enough. If there's a character from any of the following sources that you'd like for me to try, request & I'll consider it. ]

MARVEL.

Bucky Barnes. (won't do anything that has to do with "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" series.)

Venom. (mostly based on movie vers.)

Eddie Brock. (mostly based on movie vers.)

Spider-Man/Peter Parker. (won't do mcu vers, uncertain about the other franchises.)

Deadpool/Wade Wilson.

Daredevil/Matt Murdock. (mostly based on tv vers.)

Foggy Nelson.

Wolverine/Logan Howlett.

Rogue/Anne Marie.

Gambit/Remy LeBeau.

Cyclops/Scott Summers.

Jean Grey.

DC COMICS.

Nightwing/Dick Grayson.

Red Hood/Jason Todd.

Starfire/Koriand'r.

Batman/Bruce Wayne. (Esp. Batman Unburied vers.)

The Riddler/Edward Nygma. (Only Unburied vers. atm.)

Poison Ivy/Pamela Isley. (Only Unburied vers. atm.)

Harley Quinn.

Killer Croc/Waylon Jones.

Gentlemen Ghost/James "Jim" Craddock.

[platonic/familial only.]

Robin/Damian Wayne.

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT.

Danny Johnson/"The Ghostface."

Susie, Frank, Joey, & Julie/"The Legion."

#love.file #navigation #reader insert #dc comcis #xmen #<- sorry to flood your guys tags But. keah

[ao3feed-hydrahusbands]

Activities to do in winter

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DP9Agzs by poly_avenger Rumlow, Rollins and the asset are stuck in a safehouse, yet again. At least it's a fancy safehouse - until the heating breaks. Between sitting around the fire and arguing about the mission, the asset learns how to breathe fire. Words: 3676, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of HTP oneshots Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: M/M Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes/Hydra Agents Additional Tags: HTP, HYDRA Trash Party, Burns, Fire, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Rough Sex, Drunk Sex, Alcohol, Minor Character Death, Knives, Burning to death read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DP9Agzs

#ao3feed #Hydra Husbands #Rumrollins #Jack Rollins #Brock Rumlow

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #1 - Back to the Beginning

Word Count: 1644

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Intoxicated Automobile Accident, Steve Being a Slight Puppy

Setting/Characters: Directly after Captain America: The First Avenger, New York City; Reader, Director Nicholas Fury, Captain Steven Rogers

A/N: Here it is! The first One Shot that goes along with my FATWS Series! Keep in mind; it doesn’t take place during FATWS. There are NO SPOILERS in this and there will be NO SPOILERS in any of the One Shots. I do recommend still reading the Series, though, to understand the Reader more. These are more like…prequels to the Series. And it won’t be a series. It’ll just be a collection of One Shots based on what I think is important and what you guys wanna see. I also WON’T BE DOING A TAGLIST FOR ONE SHOTS! (Only those in my All Works Taglist will be tagged!) I’ll be adding them to my FATWS Series Masterlist under a ‘One Shot’ section, so you’ll be able to find them there, and I’ll also be tagging them with #fatws series oneshots. Feel free to send in requests for what you wanna see. I’ve gotten a few already, so I’ll be writing those tomorrow. I’ll say that they’ll all be shorter like this one, but...knowing me...we’ll see.

(Also, I’m aware of the theories that SHIELD chose the woman because the resemblance to Peggy, but just ignore that for this.)

As always, not beta’d so please excuse mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and each other! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You knew. You knew the moment his eyes raked over your form. You knew when he looked over his shoulder at the radio playing some baseball game from 1941. You had done your homework, just like you did with every mission you worked. Granted, this one was a little different, but when Fury called you in personally, you couldn’t say no. You told them your uniform was wrong. You told them the game was too close to when he went under. You told them.

So you weren’t surprised in the least when he smashed through the wall, running out of the room. You didn’t necessarily regret pushing the button; you did it because you knew your cover had been blown, not because you were threatened. But you regretted calling out Code 13, not realizing that they’d chase him out into the middle of Times Square of all places.

Before you could head outside, wanting to know what happened, Fury’s name flashed across your vibrating phone.

“Y/L/N.”

“We’re heading back.”

An eyebrow raised, showing your confusion. “That was quick.”

“He’s fine, if you’re insinuating what I think you are.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, sir.” It was a lie, of course. You wouldn’t put it past Fury to slow down the Captain anyway he could, especially if the Man Out of Time was putting up a fight. “Sir, with all due respect, I tried-”

“I know, Agent. When We get back, we’ll set up in Conference Room C. I want you to join us.”

Your eyes narrowed, free hand on your hip. “You only called me in to ease him into this whole new century thing-”

“And he’s not eased.”

“It’s not my fault, Fury. I told your guys that it was wrong-”

“I know, Agent. Introducing him to the new century obviously went less smoothly than we anticipated.”

“Ya think?”

“Conference Room-”

“C. I heard you the first time. I’ll be there. Give me a few minutes.” He hung up without any farewells, making you roll your eyes. The director had pulled you off an assignment - in the middle of it - and promised you could get back to it once you finished helping him with the Star Spangled Man problem; help Captain Rogers integrate into the new times. But it was starting to seem that Fury didn’t just mean when he woke up.

You quickly changed, switching the old fashioned uniform for the tighter SHIELD-assigned one, before heading up to the level with all the conference rooms. You understood doing this in New York instead of the HQ in DC - the captain was from New York and, as much as it changed, some things would be familiar - and you definitely understood not doing this on the Helicarrier since Rogers didn’t even know about smartphones yet. And you definitely weren’t complaining; you had an apartment here in the City that you hadn’t slept in for months now.

Glancing at the room plaques, you paused in front of ‘C’. You took a couple breaths, relaxing yourself just as you did before any mission, before opening the door and stepping in.

Fury and Rogers were sitting at the table on opposite ends, the blonde looking around warily, eyeing the few agents lining the walls. You shot Fury a look, disapproving of the firepower in the room.

“Captain. Director.” You nodded to them in greeting.

Roger’s eyes snapped towards you, recognition lighting up his features. “You-”

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Sorry about the act.”

He nodded hesitantly, watching you as you sat down a couple seats from Fury. “I have some other business to attend to, so I’ll make this quick. To help you adjust, it’s been decided to assign an agent to help you for the next few months. Agent Y/L/N, here, will take that position.”

You blinked, turning to Fury, not expecting that. “What?”

Fury ignored you, standing up and setting down a file on the table in front of you when he passed. “The file has what you need to explain to him. Start now.”

“Fury.” You snapped, eyebrows furrowing as you stared at the file. Looking back as the door opened, you scrambled to stand when you realized he was leaving. “Fury! Excuse me.” You pardoned yourself from the captain, chasing after the director without waiting for his reaction. “Nicholas!”

That got his attention, his stride pausing. He spun on his heel, an eyebrow quirked. “Agent-”

“You didn’t mention anything about months helping him. I thought you meant, at most, a week!”

He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “You’re the first person he saw when he woke up. You’re the best option.”

“First off,” you mimicked his position, popping your hip for good measure. “Even though I was the first person he saw, I deceived him. Why would he trust me? Second, why me? I understand having me for the little show you put on. I get that. But me? Of all people? You know I don’t do personal stuff.”

Fury narrowed his eyes. “You’re on this, and that’s final. He needs to know politics and technology. Settle him into the apartment in the file.”

You gaped as he turned around and started towards the elevators at the end of the hallway. “What about-?!”

“Your mission is being taken care of!” He called over his shoulder. “Politics and technology!”

You huffed, stomping your foot, frustrated, well aware of the fact that you were throwing a mini tantrum. You worked behind the scenes, acting as someone other than yourself. You didn’t help 93 year old super soldiers settle into new houses, teach them about current politics, and explain what cell phones were.

Walking back into the conference room, you found it empty besides Rogers, who was looking through the file, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Sorry about that.” You apologized, moving around the table to plop into the seat next to him.

He gave a half hearted shrug, glancing over at you. “It’s okay. He didn’t tell you the plan. I don’t blame you for being annoyed.”

“Yeah…it’s nothing personal. I’m not annoyed at you, and it’s not because of you. It’s just-”

“You don’t do personal stuff.” At your quirked eyebrow, he tapped his ear. “I could hear you.”

You cleared your throat, feeling slightly embarrassed at being heard. “Oh. Right. Enhanced hearing. Um, so, I guess you’re already starting without me.”

The tips of his ears turned red as you gestured to the file he was scanning. He dropped it, moving it over to you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “It’s your schooling. However you wanna do this, whatever pace you want, we’ll do that. Fury just wants you to know-”

“Politics and technology.” He shot you a small smirk. “I heard that too.”

You chuckled a bit, nodding. “Right. Okay. Let’s see here. Nickie said there was an apartment they got you…”

“Page six.” He informed you as you flipped through the pages.

You hummed, looking at the small apartment, perfect size for one person, right here in Manhattan…in the same building as yours, you noted. “Of course.” You rolled your eyes. You’d basically be his babysitter, and you knew neither of you wanted that.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “This is my building.”

He blinked, looking down at the picture of the apartment. “Oh. Well, if you want I can request a change-”

“No, no. It’s fine. I just - I wish Fury told me.”

“Can-can I ask you a personal question?”

You shrugged, thumbing through the rest of the file. They basically wanted you to give him a government lesson starting with the fifties and then go over military technological advancements - a lot of Stark Industries stuff. “You might as well. We’re gonna be spending quite a bit of time together.”

“Why don’t you do personal?” You stopped your reading, tapping a finger on the table as you chewed on your cheek. “Sorry. You don’t hafta share if it’s too personal. I get it. I was never really into sharing my emotions, either.”

Turning your head to him, your lips pursed thoughtfully. His head was ducked, his blonde hair previously parted and styled was falling into his eyes, which were trained on his linked hands in his lap. His forehead was still creased, but it was more contemplative than confused as it was previously. 

“I specialize in undercover operations.” Ignoring the way he whipped his head to you, slight surprise in those blues that you were answering his question, your head dropped back to the files, trying to act nonchalantly. “Before that I grew up in foster homes. My parents died when I was little. Drunk driver. No one survived. I was…two. I think. Maybe three. I learned to keep my head down to stay out of trouble; be the kid whoever had me wanted me to be. Anyways, I’m used to playing other people. I’m not really used to being myself.”

The room was blanketed with a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, either, but it was welcomed as Rogers processed what you had just told him. His voice was quiet, almost shy, when he spoke up. “You can be yourself with me…if you want.”

You looked over at him again, your lips turning up slightly as you met his sincere gaze. “Thanks. You can be yourself with me too, Captain Rogers.”

“Let’s start with you calling me Steve, Agent Y/L/N.”

Your features broke into a bigger grin as you nodded, accepting his terms. “Alright, Steve. I don’t really have a preference. Just don’t call me Agent. I get flashbacks to every conversation with Fury.”

Steve laughed and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his eyes shut, his nose scrunching up. “Alright.” He agreed with a beam. “I think I can avoid that, honey.”

All Works Taglist:

@happygoreading​

@bibliophilewednesday​

#cjswriting #fatws series oneshots #falcon and the winter soldier series oneshots #fatws series oneshot 1 #fatws series #back to the beginning one shot #steve rogers x reader #kinda #💛🧭 #❤🐦💙🦾⏪

[subwaysurf45]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

SERIES 

Winter Makes Ice 

you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title (complete)

The Museum 

finally away from your controlling parents you use college as a new beginning. Natasha, your best friend and roommate, introduce you to three guys who live in a house together: Steve, Sam, and Bucky. Now taking steps in on your own you try and navigate trauma, friendship, and school. (college!Bucky au, complete)

Our Home to Heal 

working at the VA, you’ve found your place. helping people in the sobriety unit as well as cooking for the food bank, the VA had everything for you. Bucky Barnes has a not-so-good first impression but after dealing with a dark recent past he finds you to help him heal. (complete) 

Fragments 

You always had a soft spot for innocent people who were viewed as monsters, must have been something in your blood. Nothing changed when you were assigned as the new handler for the Winter Soldier, he had just killed his previous one and you happened to be there at the right time to fill in. But happens when you meet him years later? (complete) 

A Little Rusty 

As an aspiring author and current intern, getting a new car was a luxury you never dreamed of. Natasha, your roommate, used you a personal chauffeur until your car started breaking down. Luckily, you knew some people who worked at Auto Buddy, an auto shop, who could fix your car. But you hadn’t met Bucky yet, and quickly after you found out you’d be stuck with him for a little while. (Complete)

The Time of the Prey 

The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made. (Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader, complete) 

TWO PARTS 

The Beginning - The End 

the beginning and end of the relationship between you and Bucky. 

Team Bucky & Pt.2 

your secret relationship with Bucky slips out. Everyone else in the compound is happy for you both but your brother - or really your grandfather - is not pleased at all, all you can do is try and live normally with Bucky and attempt to fix things with Steve.  

ONESHOTS

Code Star 

a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Scrub-a-Dub 

Bucky asks you to cut and wash his hair. 

Love You to the Moon and Back 

Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

Back Into the Swing of Things 

Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war) 

Safe House 

You’re sick at the safe house after a mission, but everything goes to shit. fast. 

Choices 

after distancing yourself from the group, and more importantly Bucky, a nightmare makes you choose between calling Bucky and leaving yourself alone to your thoughts.

The Smell of Perfume 

Bucky gets to look around your childhood bedroom that hasn't changed since you were a kid.

Find the Voice 

Hydra took your voice, it took your smile, it almost took your life. But Bucky will do whatever to get it all back.

Don’t End Today

The day that you happily upgraded you from tutor to girlfriend all because of a few nice words. . (college athlete!Bucky)

Confessions in a Coma

When you find Hydra now has wolves as their first line of defense you pay the price, but not entirely.

Hour, Minute, Second

the relationship between you and Bucky is getting rocky, and it doesn’t help that Bucky gets whisked away before you can both go to couple’s therapy to try and fix it.

Academic Validation  

Bucky would do anything for you. He’d come to your dorm to cheer you up or bring you your favourite food. But he would also lie for you... or to you.

The Hard Things to Admit

Work has recently been too stressful to even think about, your intern you're training is being a real pain in the ass. so when you hear about Bucky finally coming to one of your group's gatherings you have to go, no matter how tired you really are. You both have things you need to say, resting on the tip of your tongue.

Daunting Doctor’s Visit

going to the doctor’s had never really been a fun idea to you, it wasn’t a good time. luckily Bucky’s happy to be your plus one when you have your yearly physical packed with everything you’ve been putting off for a while.

Going Out and Coming In

having you come out to the club was always a treat in Bucky’s eyes, you were never one to party like the rest of them. With all the alcohol and music bumping through your viens it’s hard to keep your hands off of Bucky, and he knows it too.

Meeting the Family

Bucky was having his family’s annual birthday celebration because seeminly everyone was born in Feburary. you were invited which meant you had to meet the large family Bucky comes from, and with your luck it didn’t go as smooth as you wanted it to.

The Art of Sleep 

Bucky Barnes was known to be reackless with his health, especcaly when it comes to his sleep. Doing the bare minimum as a girlfriend you knew you had to make sure he was sleeping for midterms. Bucky couldn’t disagree more.

She’s Not Mad

Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.

Requests

Fear of Spiders 

Bucky sees the reader asking for help from either Morgan or Alpine to kill a spider.

Let Yourself Be Human 

after getting mugged by a normal person it’s hard to think you’re up for the job of an Avenger.

Missing Him 

Bucky reacts to you missing your abusive Ex. 

Approval

Some habits never break, even though you know your Bucky would never be like previous boyfriends you still can’t shake your thoughts when it comes to skin-tight dresses. 

Bodyguard

Getting drunk at galas was fun, but not as fun as Bucky taking care of you after.

Silent treatment

you were always ignored growing up, it meant that you had been bad. but when Bucky does it by mistake it still hurts as bad. 

Celebration/Writing Challenge Posts

You’re My Bucky

after a breakdown, Bucky finally asks a question that’s been eating away at him for months. (100 followers)

Hard and Fast

Bucky meets a tough nurse during the war, she doesn’t like all the flirty comments but he keeps coming back anyways. 

Falling in Love

fall time was always your favourite, but being pregnant can take away some of the activities.

Do Not: steal, translate, repost, or copy my work.

#Bucky Barns #bucky oneshot #bucky barns fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky masterlist #bucky barns x you #bucky barns x y/n #tfatws #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #falcon and winter solider series #winter solider x reader

[heliads]

Marvel Masterlist

General Avengers Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Clint Barton

Meeting the Team - Based on this request: “Clint introduces you to the team as his girlfriend.” Imagine

Druig

Ours, Yours - Based on this request: “Druig visited a place where he met reader. They fell in love and stayed together for 5 years. Reader knew who he really was. Druig left one morning without a word and never returned. It ruined reader, but eventually they moved on. After 15 years, Druig comes back as if nothing happened. Being an eternal, 15 years mean nothing to him. Reader and Druig have a fight.” Imagine

Helmut Zemo Masterlist

Kate Bishop

Hero in Training - Based on this request: “reader is one of Clint’s kids; Kate becomes an older sister figure and helps them become a superhero?” Oneshot

Loki Masterlist

Namor

A Sense of Duty, A Matter of Pride - Based on this request: “Namor x Y/N Enemies to Lovers where Y/N is a Greek demigod who helps Namor after washing up injured and Namor pays them back by helping them deal with a monster? Y/N is a child of Hecate.” Imagine

Peter Parker Masterlist (Andrew Garfield)

Peter Parker Masterlist (Tom Holland)

Pietro Maximoff Masterlist

Sam Wilson Masterlist

Stephen Strange Masterlist

Steve Rogers Masterlist

Tony Stark Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Yelena Belova

The Road Leads On - When your close friend and fellow Avenger, Natasha Romanoff, asks you for help in getting out of Budapest, you’re not sure what to expect. Least of all is her sister, Yelena, although that may not be the worst surprise of all. Imagine

#marvel #marvel imagines #marvel oneshot #marvel series #marvel masterlist #masterlist #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu oneshot #mcu series #mcu masterlist #bucky barnes #loki #peter parker #pietro maximoff #sam wilson #winter soldier #quicksilver #captain america #falcon #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #scarlet witch #tasm #andrew garfield spiderman #helmut zemo #yelena belova #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #tony stark

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

Off Limits - Trailer

If all else fails, I made a trailer for the idea I had...

Off Limits (Trailer), by jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

I'll link the Oneshot once I've actually written it.

Y/N represented as Emily VanCamp.

Copyright Notice: None of the video or audio included in this video is mine, I only did the editing

Gifs are all found on Google.

Videos used: The Avengers (2012, dir. Joss Whedon) Avengers: Infinity War (2018, dir. Anthony Russo, Joe Russo) [RDJ Kiss Scene] The Judge (2014, dir. David Dobkin) [Evans Kiss Scene] Defending Jacob (2020, dir. Morten Tyldum) [Ruffalo Kiss Scene] My Life Without Me (2003, dir. Isabel Coixet) [Renner Kiss Scene] Neo Ned (2005, dir. Van Fischer) [Johansson Kiss Scene] Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2006, dir. Woody Allen) The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021, dir. Kari Skogland) [Hemsworth Kiss Scene] Blackhat (2005, dir. Michael Mann) [Stan Kiss Scene] Endings, Beginnings (2019, dir. Drake Doremus) [Hiddleston Kiss Scene] Loki (2021, dir. Kate Herron) [Holland Kiss Scene] Spiderman: Far From Home (2019, dir. Jon Watts) [Bettany Kiss Scene] Avengers: Infinity War (2018, dir. Anthony Russo, Joe Russo) [Rudd Kiss Scene] Admission (2013, dir. Paul Weitz) [Mackie Kiss Scene] IO (2019, dir. Jonathan Helpert) Captain America: Civil War (2016, dir. Anthony Russo, Joe Russo) [S.L.Jackson Kiss Scene] Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard (2021, dir. Patrick Hughes)

Song used: Ainsi Bas La Vida [Remix] - Indila

#Marvel #POV #Oneshot #trailer #tiktok #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky x steve #stony #stucky #love #romance #smut #falcon #winter soldier #iron man #series #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #nick fury #paul rudd #ant man #maria hill #wanda #paul bettany #tfatws #disney

[ao3feed-sambucky]

can i ask you a question?

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43037685

by tater__tot

Bucky returns from the Thunderbolts. Sam had been waiting.

Words: 1859, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 15 of Sambucky oneshots

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

Additional Tags: post thunderbolts, because i know everything, Angst, angst with a decent ending, POV Sam Wilson, Hurt Sam Wilson, i honestly dont know what happens in this fanfiction yall bare with me, Established Relationship, Title from a Taylor Swift Song, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION., Sam Wilson Feels, Sam Wilson Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43037685

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT

[writingtoforgetreality]

Gold Rush (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist]

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Summary: Your career was blossoming, especially with your new role in “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working on set was a dream come true. It was never your intention to fall for one of your coworkers. Not when you knew that he would never look at you that way.

Words: 2,637

Warnings: language, it’s Anthony Mackie’s world & we’re just living in it, angst, feeeeeels, maybe I cried, maybe I didn’t, we’ll never know, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Inspired by: “gold rush” by Taylor Swift

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

You scored big time when you were casted in the upcoming Marvel series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working alongside Anthony Mackie & Sebastian Stan had been more than you had ever wished for. The atmosphere on set was harmonious. Everything would have been fine if it were not for your stupid crush on your fellow castmate. Mackie picked up on the fact that you liked Sebastian almost immediately & he teased you about it one too many times. No matter how obvious his teasing, it seemed like Sebastian was completely oblivious to it. Or he acted as if he had no clue. You were not quite sure about that.

The press tour was going strong, which meant that Seb, Mackie & you were teamed up for every interview. Now, that was not something that bothered you too much. After all, you were more than comfortable around them. But when some interviewers did not know where the line was, you got frustrated. Like, okay, we got it. Everyone with eyes knew Seb was hot. But as an interviewer, you should know when to stop. Shamelessly flirting in front of the camera with basically a stranger? Sorry, but you had no explanation for such a behavior. Yes, some interviewers flirted with you, too. But you were great when it came to brushing them off while staying polite. Of course, Mackie’s teasing did not make this any easier for you. Every now & then, he would bring up the chemistry you & Seb shared on screen. And off screen. Like usual, you laughed at him & so did Seb. During interviews, you teased each other a lot, it was a playful manner you all enjoyed. And the audience loved the three of you for it.

Sometimes, when Seb answered a question that had him explain scenes with you or something similar, you hated the butterflies you felt inside. You hated how your cheeks warmed up. You hated that he had such an effect on you. You hated Seb. You hated him for being so perfect. You hated him for being a literal God. You hated him for ruining every other man for you. Because nobody could ever compare to him. And you said that even though you were not even in a relationship. Hell, you were not the only person who looked at him that way. If the interviews were not proof enough, a look at social media did the job, too.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

“So (Y/N)…” the man sitting opposite of you started. It was not a lot of times that questions were directed at you. Usually, people were more excited to talk to the guys. No offense taken. “The chemistry between Sebastian & you can be felt even after such a short trailer. My question is…are you two, like, a thing?” of course. If you got a question, it was about your love life or about how great you looked in your suit. The others got complex & well thought through questions & you got this shit. Internally rolling your eyes, you stayed professional & answered casually.

“Sebby & I are friends. We work well together. We know each other well enough to communicate with our eyes, body language & so on. Some people mistake that for dating, apparently.” finishing off with a sarcastic chuckle, you had to hide the fact that you wished that there was more between you two.

“I gotta say. Even I think they’re dating sometimes.” Mackie smirked when he spoke up which earned him a light slap from you. Seb only hid his face behind his hand & laughed quietly. It was nothing new. You were used to his teasing by now. Looking over at Seb, you could not help but admire him. Even when he was embarrassed, to you, he was the most beautiful person on this planet. Not a single flaw. Just…perfect. If only you had enough courage to do something about your damn feelings.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

I see me padding across your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

“Stop that.” Mackie walked over to where you were sitting. Finally, you had a break after hours of giving interview after interview. Looking up, your face turned into one of pure confusion.

“Stop what?” he exaggeratedly rolled his eyes at your question.

“The daydreaming.” it was a simple statement. But why would he tell you to stop that?

“What? Is it forbidden to daydream now?” chuckling at him, you offered him one of your coffee cups. Your handler brought you two because you had not slept much that night. But Mackie needed one just as much & he gladly accepted it. Still, he could tell that you were trying to change the topic. Not with him, though. Sitting beside you, he sighed loudly.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” he looked straight forward when he asked that question. Your face fell at his words but maybe, maybe, if you played dumb, you could get out of this conversation without any awkwardness.

“Tell who what?” your innocent eyes bore into his side profile & you saw him shaking his head slightly. A low chuckle escaped him.

“Tell Seb you like him or I will.” he stated & your eyes widened in fear.

“You wouldn’t dream of it.” exclaiming frantically, you grew more nervous at the thought.

“I wouldn’t trust that thought.” & after a few seconds of silence, you breathed out loudly.

“Yeah, sure. And I’d risk our friendship for that? Forget it.”

“He likes you, too, you know?” he casually stated. Your face changed, but only for a second. He was wrong. Someone like Seb could never like you back.

“Stop, Mackie. Don’t just run around assuming shit.” you pushed his shoulder playfully but it did not do too much. What a surprise.

“My running around assuming shit isn’t assuming. It’s facts. You guys are awful, by the way. It’s exhausting, watching you two trying to dodge your feelings. Why can’t you just, I don’t know, get everything sorted out & be happy together? If someone deserves that, it’s you.” yes, Mackie could be sarcastic but when push came to shove, he could be serious, too. And that last part, he meant by heart. Was it true? Did Seb like you? More than a friend? Maybe you should just tell him. Life was too short to be filled with what if’s. It was now or never, right?

At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it could never be

Wrapping up for today, the three of you decided to grab some take-out & eat it back inside your hotel. After quickly showering & dressing more comfortably, you made your way over to Seb’s room. Mackie was already there, he texted you at least ten times to hurry up because they were starving to death. Dramatic diva. Knocking softly, a smile spread across your face when Seb opened the door. Stepping aside to let you in, you greeted Mackie briefly. He was already eating so why the hell was he rushing you earlier? He could be such a child. Seb handed you your food & motioned for you to take a seat on the bed. Take-out in a hotel bed? It should be illegal. Usually, you were not one for eating in bed but whenever you where staying at a hotel, it became some sort of a routine for you. Same for the guys. For a while, the three of you just talked & ate your food. Conversation always flowed easily with them. You knew all of their secrets & they knew all of yours. Well, except for Seb having no clue about your silly crush on him. When he & Mackie discussed a topic you did not know too much about to actually engage in their conversation, you found yourself stealing glances at Seb. If it were not enough for him to be so gorgeous, of course he had the best personality to match that. God really took his time with him. And the weirdest thing of it all was that Seb never let that thought get the best of him. He was aware of people admiring him but that never changed him.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

Mackie got a phone call & said goodbye to you before leaving the room. Which meant that Seb & you were alone. It was nothing special, the two of you spent a lot of time together. This time, though, you wanted to confess to him. Finally, you wanted to tell him how you felt. Could you live with the rejection? Well, if things turned in that direction, you had no choice but to. Seb’s lips moved but no sound came out. You zoned out & simply stared at him. Your thoughts were running wild. The sun had already started setting & the golden light illuminated his features in such a beautiful way. It almost looked like a movie scene. He was the masterpiece others could not keep their eyes from. You were this close to speaking up, taking a deep breath for preparation. This could change your bond with him forever.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

A phone ringing interrupted you. It was not yours. But Seb pulled his phone out of his pocket. The moment he saw the notification, he started smiling so brightly. The smile you had grown to love so much. It brought a grin to your face, too. The things this man could do to you, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

“What?” you asked when he could not stop staring at his phone. Had Mackie sent him a message?

“Nothing, it’s just…” he stopped before saying too much but you were having none of it.

“Aw, come on, Sebby. You can tell me anything.” encouraging him, your hand found its way on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Seb seemed almost shy right now. And this was weird because he usually was everything but shy when he talked to you.

“There’s this girl & she’s just…amazing.” your face fell the moment he started talking. No. “I asked her for dinner but when she hadn’t replied after hours, I started losing hope. She just messaged me back.” his smile was sheepish & you hated that you had to admit that he looked happy right now. Genuinely happy. But you were not the reason of his happiness. Another girl was.

“And? What did she say?” deep down, you knew the answer & you actually did not want him to say it out loud. But you were best friends, after all, it was kind of your duty.

“I got myself a date. I’m going on a date with her, (Y/N)!” he beamed & pulled you into a big hug. One, that made the butterflies act out. Fuck, that hurt.

“That’s great, Sebby. I’m happy for you! You deserve it.” your excitement for him was fake but the sincerity behind your last words were not. If one person on this planet deserved endless love & happiness, it was him. Mackie was wrong. Seb had never liked you. Not in that way, at least. And his date saved you from embarrassing yourself & ruining your friendship. That did not change the fact that you felt like crying right now. You could not shed tears in front of him, could not show how much it actually affected you. No. You had to fake a smile. And that shit hurt like a bitch.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it

'Cause it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it will never be

“Something’s wrong with you.” Mackie stated at breakfast. No shit, Sherlock.

“What makes you think that?” feigning innocence, you rolled your eyes when you saw the look he was giving you.

“Clearly, you’re upset. Did something happen after I left you with Seb yesterday?” he hit the nail on the head with his assumption.

“Yeah.” was all you answered. His eyebrows raised, he waited for you to continue. But when he noticed that you were not planning on engaging in any more conversation with him, he pressed further.

“Did you tell him? Did he mess up?” if Seb messed up, he would kill him. There was no other person who was better for him than you. The two of you deserved each other. And everyone seemed to realize that but you.

“I wanted to tell him.” admitting quietly.

“But?”

“He got a notification.” your short answers made Mackie freak out. He grew frustrated with you when you dragged out this entire conversation.

“(Y/N), come on.” he urged.

“Sebby has a date.”

“With you? But that’s great.” his smile was small but present. Did you finally realize that you were feeling so much more for each other?

“With another girl.” then you looked up at his face, your eyes glossy. Clearly, you were trying to keep it together but he could tell that you had a hard time doing so. Yes, Mackie would kill Seb. He could have sworn that Seb only had eyes for you. The stolen glances, the efforts to make time to spend more with you. What the fuck was going on? When he saw your first tear falling, he wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug. You were broken, all because of one man. But the thing was that he was not just any man. He was Seb. Your best friend. Your everything. But he would never be yours. Not in a million years. Because he only saw you as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was not like you did not have options. Hell, you declined so many people over the time. All because of him. And you were afraid that this would not change anytime soon. Because you did not think you would ever get over him. Your heart was ripped into a million pieces & the only person who could help you fix it was getting excited over his upcoming date. Whatever you thought could be between you guys, it was nothing but a dream. Something that could never be.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Published (04/22/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @buckysleftarm420 (thanks for your support <3)

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x ofc #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie #mackie #gold rush #taylor swift #Song Fic #reader insert #reader imagine #imagine #one shot #oneshot #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #tfaws #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #marvel series #Avengers #interviews #based on a taylor swift song #angst #feels #bucky barnes #actors #actor imagine #tfatws

[howdoyouknowaboutgandalf]

The finale of TFATWS is the literal best. Domestic Bucky gives me lifeeeeeeeee. It made me think about dad!Bucky.💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Please send me blurb requests about the following. I need it to live.

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky oneshot #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky x female reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

[baby-dr1ver]

you guys 🥺 we made it to 200 followers! this is amazing! some may think it’s not a huge accomplishment but, it totally is! so thank you so much to everyone who followed/liked/reblogged my work so I could get here!

since I hit 200, I will double update today! ‘a switch’ part 2 will come out

aaannnnddd

another part of the HS1 series as well (who knows maybe 2 chapters 👀)

feel free the leave a request, or w/e in my inbox! I will be answering all the request in there today! (hopefully)

seriously, thank you guys so much 🥺

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan oneshot #winter soldier #sebastian stan imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #captain america #falcon and winter solider series #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fluff #din djarinx reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x female reader