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#soft!zemo
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VAYA CON DIOS (2002) Daniel Brühl as Arbo A great philosopher once said, "Aggressive... but I get it."
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illicien · 10 months
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Every so often I see... interesting takes about Zemo that leave me questioning if we... all saw the same stuff.
Like, you know he commanded a death squad before his fam even died, right? This man is not a good dude. Sure, maybe it was in the name of his country but also... his country was a shit show and he said as much.
So I am absolutely perplexed by the number of "he wouldn't do x" and "why does everyone make him so toxic" kinds of things. He actively waterboarded Vasily Karpov like one of the first times we saw him. He was put in the RAFT because he is a fucking terrorist.
This feels like another one of those things I guess that reminds me of Hannibal. Him being polite doesn't make him any less of a cannibal. You can be both polite and a bad person.
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skritchskratch-art · 10 months
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one of them likes pda more than the other 😌✨
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vervainariadne · 2 years
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Yep. That's right guys. I wish i was sam.
WE WISH WE WERE SAM.
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taffingspy · 3 months
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#as much as i love azzanadra and enjoy making my wg somewhat friends with him#imagine having to actually answer to azzanadra as your boss or higher up#he has the potential to be fucking horrifyingly unhinged even though hes like rational most of the time#i should make a bigger post abt this but i love it omg hes fucking scary
IKR??? admittedly im not exploring that side of him in Friends; the comic is based on the city of senntisten quest, and focuses more on how weak azzy can be when left to his own devices (+ how in totg nabor didnt seem too bothered about being sealed up at first, so the initial event probably wasnt so bad). he's way more naïve than we give him credit for and i feel like a good part of that is because he is, without a doubt, the strongest of the mahjarrat. so... he doesnt really need to be as cunning. and when he is, lbr, he's kinda not that good at it (azzy's quest)
on the flipside, earlier depictions of azzy definitely have him a lot more uuuuuuuh i do have a different theory based around Azzanadra's memory from the mahjarrat memories miniquest, wherein Nabor figured out what was going on in the memory, tried calling Azzy out on it, and was eventually sealed for that the drawback with that theory is that, while it was probably plausible at the time, RS has at least tried to do a bit better in terms of approaches to mental health, and this theory can really fall down in that regard
but yeah! there's definitely at least two different approaches to azzy that's happened over the years, and it's really neat to dissect them both
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whowantsnachos · 11 months
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Strawberry Champagne
Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Original Fem!Character (or you can insert yourself if you want)
Summary: After Madripoor, Zemo thinks Lydia should stop drinking. This is the result. (set post episode 3 FATWS)
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Lydia, my character, has like this fire magic thing that HYDRA implanted in her. She has a lot of scars because of all of the experiments and the injections, but she covered them all after she got out with different tattoos. Another thing, her hair does this thing where streaks of it will turn into like a brighter red / ginger than her regular hair color [kinda like Tonks is a good way to describe it] when her body temperature goes up. The language that is occasionally spoken is Serbian, but it’s supposed to be Sokovian, and I heard they were similar. Anyways, feedback and stuff is always accepted, given this is the first thing I wrote officially. Enjoy!
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Lydia was sitting in bed, wearing an oversized Metallica hoodie with her knees close to her chest. Her dull, red hair was a mix of slightly messy and living hell. She thought about everything she had just witnessed in the past couple of hours with one arm wrapped around her legs and the other holding champagne. Lydia sat in the same position for about an hour or two, either thinking, spacing out or drinking. A sudden knock on her door made her jump in surprise.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” she heard Zemo ask on the other end.
“Um, yeah, sure,” she said quietly.
He opened the door and stepped inside. He raised his eyebrows in slight shock seeing her so distraught.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’m over the moon,” she said sarcastically.
“I apologize, I probably should have warned you ahead of time what we were getting into.”
“Yeah, you think? I can’t really blame you though, I should’ve expected all of that. I mean, it’s you, Sam, and Bucky, how could it have been any different? Anyway, it’s more my fault for agreeing to get into all of this shit again.”
“It’s not-”
“No, wait, that’s right! It's not my fault. It’s you three that dragged me back into this shitfest. Why am I blaming myself? I guess I agreed… regardless! Why am I the one to fix your guys’ messes, huh?”
“Ok, that’s enough champagne,” Zemo said as he grabbed the glass from her, sensing her getting mad.
“I wasn’t done with that yet,” she said sternly, reaching for the glass.
“Yes. You were.”
Lydia glared at him, and Zemo rolled his eyes out of annoyance, grabbing the champagne bottle from the side table next to her. He went into the bathroom and poured the rest of it into the sink.
“Why do you have to ruin my fun all of the time?” she asked, crossing her arms.
Zemo raised his eyebrow and said, “I’m not. I just think you would rather not have a hangover first thing in the morning.”
“How would you know? Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet,” Lydia cockily stated.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, you’re trustworthy now?”
Zemo gave her a death stare and Lydia looked down, realizing she might’ve hit a nerve.
“Sorry,” she murmured, playing with the edge of her sleeve.
Zemo softened his gaze a little and leaned on the doorway of the bathroom. He noticed the tattoos near her wrist, each one a different pattern or idea than the other.
“What are those for?”
Lydia quickly put her sleeve back down and said, “Nothing.”
Zemo titled his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at her but shrugged it off.
“Where did you find that champagne?” he asked.
“Um, I may or may not have stolen it from that club...”
Zemo’s face lit up in amusement, and he asked, “You stole two thousand dollar champagne?”
“Possibly,” Lydia said with a smirk.
“Impressive.”
“I can be spectacular sometimes.”
Zemo laughed breathly but didn’t say anything. Lydia wanted to thank him for helping her out when the shooting broke out, but she didn’t know if now would be the appropriate time or not.
Well, it couldn't hurt.
“Um, I wanted to thank you. For helping me out back there. It really means a lot to me, I mean, I know that I’m not your favorite person in the world, but-”
“What gives you that impression?” Zemo asked.
“You’re kidding me, right? You’ve shut down half of the ideas I had about how we were going to execute Madripoor, and look where we ended up!”
“I knew it better than you did.”
“Apparently not! We could’ve died, Helmut.”
“If we would have done it your way, that fate would have been met sooner.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And neither do you,” Zemo responded.
Lydia cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. Raising her eyebrows at Zemo, she went into the bathroom to grab something from under the sink. Lydia also noticed that some streaks of her hair lit up, but she hoped that he hadn’t noticed.
“What are you doing?” Zemo asked.
She answered him by holding up another bottle of champagne with a strained smile on her face as she was walking out of the bathroom. As she was about to open the bottle, Zemo grabbed it and put it on the bathroom counter. Lydia gave him a mock pouty look, and he rolled his eyes.
“You need to stop drinking, I’m serious. You giving me that look isn’t helping you,” he said.
“You sure?” she asked as she emphasized her look.
“Lydia. I’m serious.”
Her ears burned at the way that he had said her name, and she could only pray that her hair hadn’t betrayed her now. 
“And,” Zemo continued, “For the record, I don’t hate you or anything like that. To be honest, you’re the only one I can stand out of the ones I’ve met.”
Lydia raised her eyebrow slightly, and he quickly added, “Not that you’re the best of the worst, it’s just, how should I put this… I guess it’s more around the lines of ‘you’re smart and they’re not.’”
“Wow, harsh,” Lydia said with an amused look on her face.
“Well, it’s true,” Zemo said with a smirk on his face. 
“Well, if I’m so smart, then that means… my plan was the best.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far.”
Lydia rolled her eyes playfully at him and walked back into the bathroom, but Zemo stopped her by closing the door halfway.
“Lydia,” he said with a warning tone.
Now, Lydia could see her hair quickly turn into a brighter red color, and she cursed herself in her head silently, hoping he didn’t notice, but she wouldn’t bet on it.
“Does your hair always do that?”
God damn it.
“Do what?”
“Change color like that when your name is said.”
“Um, no. Not to my knowledge, no,” 
Zemo narrowed her eyes at her while his attention seemed to turn to her hair. Lydia felt slightly embarrassed by his staring, but this only led to it turning brighter again. He smiled a little and said, “It’s a nice color; it suits you.”
She could feel her face burning mainly out of embarrassment and something else she couldn’t describe. Lydia jumped a little when she felt Zemo touch her arm. She felt her skin burn up, and he said, “I apologize, but I recognize this one.”
Zemo went to touch her arm again, but before he did, he asked, “May I?”
Lydia nodded, and he lifted her sleeve, intently scanning the dragon on her forearm. He carefully traced the outline of it, and Lydia felt her skin heat up with each trail he left. The way that he was looking at her tattoo sent shivers down her spine, but surprisingly, it was a nice feeling, considering she hasn’t felt anything cool in a long time.
“Змај,” (“Zmaj,”) Zemo whispered.
“What?”
“Змаj, correct?”
Lydia nodded, and Zemo hummed, “Yeah, I remember that story. My parents used to tell me that all the time.”
“My parents weren’t into the whole legend thing, they always said it was just a bunch of lies people tell to poison our minds, but I have heard it a few select times.”
“Your parents were quite the people, huh?” He laughed.
She laughed with him and said, “Yeah, they were definitely something, alright.”
“Well,” Zemo started as his hand traced bits and pieces of her tattoos before stopping at the palm of her hand, his fingers slowly intertwining with hers. “They raised well.”
Damn you.
She felt her skin heating up with every second, but she tried to contain it as much as she could. She looked over at the bathroom mirror that was mostly covered by the door, but she could see that dozens of streaks of her hair were lit up bright orange like crazy. He glanced back at her hair, and his smirk grew.
“Does it usually change when people touch you as well?”
“A-again, not to my knowledge, no.”
Zemo hummed again and began tracing the tattoos on her other arm before grabbing her other hand and running his thumb over her wrist. He carefully moved his hands up her forearms, tracing the shapes of her tattoos more fully this time, while pulling her closer to him. Lydia’s heart picked up even faster, not that she knew how that was possible. To her, it felt like they’d been spending an eternity standing in the doorway, but at the same time, it felt like no time had passed at all.
“Lydia?”
She took a breath in, and looked up at him, asking, “Yeah?”
It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how close they were to each other. Zemo’s breath lightly fanned her face, and his hands let go of her arms, slowly wrapping them around her waist instead. Lydia swallowed discreetly from his stare, and Zemo tilted his head to the left slightly and smirked at her.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“N-no, why would you? I could beat your ass into next year if I wanted to, what would I have to be nervous about?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. I’m sure your hair doesn’t light up around other people every time you stand next to them, or they talk to you.”
He pulled her closer and leaned his head down just enough so that he was only inches away from her face. 
“Unless… it’s something else that makes your hair light up whenever I'm around.”
After he said that, he backed up a little and looked at her hair. Several streaks of it were brightening up, lightly illuminating the aura around her head. He smiled and laughed lightly through his nose.
“If I remember correctly, ‘Miss Vesta’s abilities cause her physical appearance to change as well. Her hair will change into different shades if she has any sort of strong emotions, including, but not limited to: anger, stress, sadness, and attraction.’ Does that sound right?”
Lydia squinted at him in confusion, and Zemo chuckled, saying, “SHIELD’s not very good at hiding things like they think they are.”
Lydia sighed and looked to her right and then down at her feet.
“So, again, I must ask,” he started. “Lydia…”
He removed one hand from her waist and lifted her chin up to meet his gaze.
“Do I make you nervous?”
Lydia licked her lips and said, “...no.”
Zemo leaned in closer, guiding her face to his slowly. He stopped centimeters before her face, just like before, and she could smell his expensive cologne radiating off of him.
“Are you sure? Your skin is burning.”
‘Копиле.’ (‘Bastard.’)
“Maybe I shouldn’t-“
“Ох, забога.” (“Oh, for God’s sake.”)
Lydia put her hand in the back of his neck, pulled him down, and their lips met. Zemo’s grip on her waist tightened, and moved his hand from her chin to the side of her face, the extreme heat of her skin slightly burning his hand. He furrowed his brow and backed her up onto the doorway, allowing him to close any distance between them. The smell of strawberry champagne intoxicated his senses, and he couldn’t get enough of her. 
Lydia could feel every part of her body start on fire, whether she knew that’s what was actually happening to her or not. Her heart felt like it skipped ten beats at once, and heat filled her chest. She felt magnetized to him, and every break for a quick breath of air filled her with a sense of longing for more. Lydia thought her knees were going to collapse from underneath her, and she was grateful for the doorway behind her. She felt ripples of chills go up her spine for the second time that day, and the sensation of his thumb grazing her cheek only made it harsher. She felt her fingers become white hot, and she quickly retracted her hand to his shoulder, not wanting to burn him. She felt every bone and muscle in her body become the same temperature, and she felt the texture of the material of his shirt change. She removed his hand from her cheek and pulled away from him, catching her breath.
“I-I’m sorry. My skin… I can’t-”
Zemo shrugged and said, “To be honest, I never liked this shirt anyways.”
“No, you don’t understand, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Zemo tilted his head and raised his eyebrows quickly. He looked down and put his hands in his pockets, taking out the pair of gloves he was wearing earlier that day and putting them on. After he did that, he put his hands up and smiled at her.
Lydia lightly laughed and said, “I appreciate the gesture, but that’s not gonna do you much good. I’ll just burn-”
Zemo cut her off by saying, “I’ll take that chance.”
He kissed her gently, not wanting to make her skin burn back up again.
A sudden knock at her door caused Lydia to jump and separate from him, turning her head towards her door.
“Lydia? We need to discuss the plan for tomorrow. Have you seen Zemo anywhere?” Bucky asked through her door.
Lydia turned back towards him with a devilish look on her face. She whispered, “Play along,” and quickly pushed him away from her, a glare forming on her face.
“Yeah, he’s trying to steal my champagne.”
Bucky opened the door to the pair glaring at each other with murderous intent.
“You mean, I’m trying to take away the champagne that you stole from the club,” Zemo quickly countered, getting the message.
“Well, it’s mine now, isn’t it?”
“Alright! Look, she can keep the champagne, it doesn’t matter,” Bucky said.
“James, that was worth probably around two thou-“
“I don’t care,” Bucky said while giving Zemo a death stare before continuing. “We don’t have time for this anyway. We have to figure out the plan for tomorrow, come on.”
He left the room, and Lydia turned towards Zemo, raised her eyebrows, and dramatically put her hand out. He rolled his eyes and took the champagne bottle off of the counter and gave it to her.
“You’re only getting this because he likes you more than me.”
“And who’s fault was that?” Lydia retorted.
Zemo gave her an annoyed look as she laughed, and they both walked out of the room.
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six-demon-bag · 9 months
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if you want my love (let me pull my hair back)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo
Summary: Bucky grows his hair out, and Zemo can’t handle it.
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Oral Sex, Long-Haired Bucky Barnes, Zemo with long hair kink, Zemo's Soft Belly, Discord: WinterBaron
Word count: 1560
Link: if you want my love (let me pull my hair back)
Excerpt: 
Bucky spins lazily on the stool, turning to face where Zemo is almost drooling over himself. “Something you needed, Zemo?” Bucky asks, tilting his head and watching Zemo’s eyes follow  the fall of his hair.
Inspired by this gorgeous art by @skritchskratchh (alex?? what are you go by omg) everyone go appreciate them or i will break out of my prison and bite your face
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wintereyed · 2 years
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saviin-art · 2 years
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Intimacy
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bcron · 8 months
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Okay but who wants kisses?
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itsmiii · 2 years
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Soft Winterbaron
Pairing: Zemo x Bucky
Rating: G
~~~
Zemo gently carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair as he walked around the couch, “How are you feeling?”
Bucky raised his head and smiled at Zemo. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.
He shifted a bit, making room for Zemo on the soft cushions. The blanket that was wrapped around him was warm and grounded him into reality.
When Zemo sat down next to him, he took Bucky’s hand,stroking his thumb over the back of it in a slow, soothing motion.
Their eyes met and immediately Bucky’s throat felt tight. Zemo’s gaze was warm, was like honey, like a cozy fire.
“I love you,” Bucky whispered, squeezing the other’s hand.
“I know,” Zemo replied, voice soft. He smiled, intimate, honest, leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Bucky’s brow.
“I love you, too, my James.”
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thisisntabackalley · 1 year
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Umf is written on a piece of paper and passed to Bucky. He seems to be looking everywhere else but at Bucky.
Send me "Umf" If you think the muse is hot. || accepting
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He took a second to read what the paper says, then looked directly at the man who refuses to look in his direction.
"You keep doing stuff like this and I'm gonna have no choice but to think you like having a metal arm around your throat."
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decemberafternoon · 2 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: winterbaron - Fandom Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Helmut Zemo Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Helmut Zemo Additional Tags: very short Series: Part 30 of WinterBaron musings Summary:
Just a short and sweet bit of WB fluff
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vervainariadne · 2 years
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He's so bougie here
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Does anyone wanna talk about zemo?? Maybe👉👈
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ivybucky · 6 months
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First Time - b.b. x gn!reader
Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.
a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k
Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)
Masterlist
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Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 
Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 
The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.
“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.
Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”
Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”
He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 
Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 
He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”
The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.
“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 
Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”
With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”
He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”
You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”
Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”
Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”
You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”
The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”
Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 
“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”
Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 
He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal
Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 
Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 
The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 
Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.
Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.
Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.
To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.
John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 
“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”
You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”
He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”
“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”
You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”
____
The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 
You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.
He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.
The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 
You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”
You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 
“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 
He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”
You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”
Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”
You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”
Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”
You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”
Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”
You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 
You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”
Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol
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