Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 3
Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.
And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.
Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig
Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!
For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2
Word Count: 5.358
It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.
You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.
Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.
Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'
So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.
You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.
Maybe you could read for a bit.
You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.
As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.
You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.
Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.
As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.
You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.
Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.
You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.
"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."
Annoyance had now replaced your fear.
You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.
This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.
You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.
Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.
You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.
Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.
"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.
You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.
"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.
You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.
"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.
"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.
You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.
"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.
"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.
"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.
"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.
You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.
"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.
That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.
His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.
You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.
"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.
You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.
"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.
"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.
You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.
"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.
The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.
"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.
You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.
Well, at least now you could breathe.
Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"
You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.
"No," you answered.
The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.
He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."
You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."
Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.
Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."
Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."
Hoskins didn't have a response to that.
In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.
Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.
Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.
You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.
The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.
Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.
"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.
You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.
"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.
As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.
"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.
You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.
"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.
Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.
Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.
"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.
"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.
"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.
The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.
Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.
"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.
But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.
"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.
With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.
Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one his wrist to prevent him from moving your arm any further.
"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.
Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.
"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.
The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.
"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.
"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."
Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.
"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.
You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.
"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.
Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.
You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.
"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.
"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.
"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.
Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.
Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.
Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.
You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.
Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.
"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.
Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.
You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.
"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.
You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.
You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.
You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"
He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"
"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.
None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.
Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.
Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.
You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.
Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.
"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.
"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.
"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.
"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.
"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.
"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.
"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.
"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.
"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.
Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.
James leaned over on the counter to make sure I was 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.
You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."
You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.
As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly feel his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.
"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.
You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.
In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.
Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.
You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.
Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.
If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.
You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.
He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.
You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.
He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.
If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.
Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.
"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.
You shook your head, indicating you didn't.
All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.
Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."
You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.
His expression sobered rather quickly and became pensive after that staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.
"You keep it. It looks better on you."
Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.
Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.
"Wait," you murmured.
The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.
You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.
You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing your double meaning.
"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.
Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.
Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.
You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.
He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.
With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.
Peter Parker’s level of sheer survivability is kinda terrifying when you stop and think about it. Like compared to anyone in TFATWS, he’s basically unstoppable. Dude was hit by a freaking high speed train in Far From Home, and walked away from it after a nap.
Also it would have been funny to see him handle big emotional explosion moments in TFATWS by webbing people to walls. Idk why the image of an already emotionally destressed teenager webbing emotionally stressed adults to a wall or the floor and making a snarky Gen Z sass comment at them to get them to stop taking themselves so seriously delights me so much, but boy does it.
Also also, I like to think not even his Spidey Sense would catch the Dora Milaje coming. Probably because they mean *him* no personal danger, or they’re just that damn good.
But in that same vein, good luck if he went on the Madripoor field trip. His Spidey Sense would be going off so frequently it’d probably give him a migraine, not to mention he’d be trying to figure out why it’s still going off even after they’re all in Sharon’s safehouse. She’s friendly, right?
...You know, I just remembered that I think his Spidey Sense is on the fritz during Far From Home. That’s wonderful, he’d be doubting his perceptions during TFATWS. Yes!
anon requested. y/n learning she’s pregnant and girly was pretty excited and counting the days until Bucky comes home... only to learn that 40s Bucky is now “dead” after falling off the train
cw: mentions of death (Bucky’s, but like, he obviously didn’t actually die)
“We’re going to have a little girl, and she’s going to know that her daddy is a soldier and a hero,” you kissed your husband, and his hands rested on your round belly.
“I wish I wasn’t leaving you alone, pregnant.”
“It’s okay, baby. You’re going to fight the good fight,” you smiled, trying not to cry.
“I’ll be home soon.”
Nothing prepared you for hearing that Bucky died in a train accident. Nothing prepared you for waking up with Steve, decades later, still pregnant. And certainly nothing prepared you for seeing your husband that you thought was dead, killing people on the news.
Now your daughter, Rebecca, was five, and the two of you lived at Stark’s home in upstate New York. You were a single mom, but Steve was hugely supportive, and around as often as possible. You loved Rebecca with everything inside of you, and it broke your heart that she was growing up without a father.
Seeing the havoc that Bucky wreaked on the news absolutely broke your heart. You wondered if he knew you were alive. It was unlikely, Stark had done a good job of helping you hide. The man who was once your husband was gone, and now you were a potential target of his violence.
“Rebecca, baby, you look so beautiful!” You giggled, braiding flowers into her brown curls.
“Thanks, mama,” she hugged you before running out to the porch. You followed, and you nearly collapsed when you saw the man walking up your lawn.
“Rebecca! Come here, love!” You cried, pulling her behind you. Her tiny hands gripped your skirt, hiding in the fabric. Panic shot through your chest, and you felt like you were being torn apart. You wanted to run to James, and risk it being the last thing you ever did, and wanting to run with your daughter.
“Mama, who’s that?!” Rebecca asked, frightened by James in heavy black tactical gear, a metal arm, and an automatic slung over his back. The war criminal, assassin, and international terrorist.
“Go inside baby, go to your bedroom and shut the door. Go!” You pushed her away and she ran.
“James...?” You called, your chest heaving as you hyperventilated.
“Y/N, my love...” he spoke, silver eyes full of pain. He looked genuinely frightened, and you nearly screamed as his hand touched yours.
“No, go inside, Rebecca!” you started to sob, tearing away from Bucky and running to her as she peeked out of the door. You were terrified, and so was she. Bucky’s words had sent you right back to the 1940s, but your daughter’s cry had jerked you back to reality.
You held the child to your body, standing with your arms around her. Your back was against the wall, and you were shaking as tears rolled down your face. Bucky looked startled, and his eyes were massive as he stared at the two of you.
“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you,” James said quietly, and you shook your head violently.
“I don’t believe you!”
“You know I would never hurt you. I was being controlled and held captive, but I escaped, I’m free. I promise I will not hurt you,” he took the gun off of his back and set it down on the other side of the porch. He dropped to his knees in front of you.
“Please, can I come inside? SWAT will gun me down if they see me outside.”
Rebecca was safely asleep in your bedroom with the door shut, and you and James stood in the kitchen. He’d spent hours telling you about Hydra, and everything that had happened. You had his gun, though somehow you doubted if you could stop him, even with it, if he meant to hurt you.
“I’m so sorry. I’m begging you to believe me.”
“I have to. The alternative... I’d rather die,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands.
“Is she mine? Rebecca?”
“Rebecca is my baby,” your head jerked up.
James was silent, and you bit your lip, trying to stop the millionth round of tears.
“I want to believe you, I do, but if you’re lying, it’s not just me. It’s my kid too.”
“You have no reason to trust me, but I promise you I am telling the truth. I want to meet her, Y/N.”
“Sleep on the couch. If we’re all still alive in the morning, I’ll let you meet her. Steve has some normal clothes here you can change into.”
He nodded, and his hand wrapped around your wrist as you went to leave the kitchen. You turned to him, your other hand going to his chest. His dog tags were cold under your fingertips, and you gazed up at him.
“I’ve loved you this whole time. You’ve kept me alive,” he whispered in the dark.
“I love you, god, I love you more than life,” your voice trembled.
He leaned in and kissed you, hesitant at first. You let yourself kiss him back, tangling your fingers into dark brown hair and kissing the love of your life for the first time in decades.
You didn’t sleep that night, Rebecca tightly snuggled in your arms. Your eyes were still open when the sun broke over the horizon, hours of tears staining your cheeks. Rebecca stirred in your arms, and you cleaned your face before helping her get up.
You kissed her head and took her into the living room, carrying her in your arms. You sighed when you saw Bucky was gone but you heard a noise from around the wall. You walked to the kitchen, and saw Bucky well into making pancakes, fresh coffee filling the room with the smell of espresso.
“I hope it’s alright,” he said quietly, turning off the stove, and you nodded.
“It’s okay,” you answered, carefully setting down your daughter.
“This is Rebecca. My love, this is James. Your father.”
“Dad? From the pictures? That Uncle Stevie tells me about?” Her small voice asked.
“That’s me. You’re so pretty, Rebecca.”
Bucky knelt down in front of her, and she blushed, shy around new people. Like her father.
“Do you like pancakes? I made some for you.”
You watched carefully, but you were impressed with how good he was, putting her immediately at ease. You relaxed a bit, even more so when Steve showed up.
“Uncle Stevie!” Rebecca ran to him when he came in through the door, and he stopped short at the sight of Bucky. You’d warned him, but it didn’t prepare him for the shock of actually seeing him.
Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and it leads to a late night conversation.
Word Count: 2,029
Warnings: angst, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol
You'd woken up to an empty bed. You had turned on your side and lazily run your hand along the mattress, hoping to find a broad chest or metal arm but instead being greeted with an empty space beside you.
Your feet met the cool floorboards as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You couldn't help but worry as you pulled on one of Bucky's shirts and left the room. You tried rationalising your thoughts despite your tired mind. Maybe he just couldn't sleep and went out on a run, he could have been in the bathroom, there were multiple harmless and simple possibilities. But the fear that it might just be something else, something bad, was enough to stir you from bed and go looking for him.
Your footsteps echoed in the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen and you sighed when you found Bucky sitting on a stool at the counter. Your relief melted away as you took in his appearance. He was hunched over the counter, arms crossed and hair dishevelled with what you recognised as a glass of scotch sitting idle in front of him. A weight set in your chest.
"Bucky," you said timidly and he jumped at your voice. He turned to you with a fearful expression, the metal of his arm whirling and clanking in defence as if he were ready for a fight. But when he realised it was you his tough, soldier facade fell away and he exhaled slowly. He didn't say anything, slumping further down in his chair as you joined him in the darkened room, not bothering to turn on the light.
You gingerly placed your hand against his shoulder and he almost unnoticeably flinched away. Your heart sank.
"Nightmare?" You asked and he nodded silently, hardened glare boring into the marble of the counter. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"Didn't want to scare you," he grumbled.
He didn't say anything else as you took a seat next to him, your hand slipping from his shoulder and resting against his bicep.
"You think when I wake up in the middle of the night and you're not there it's any less scary?"
Bucky sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He glanced at you with tired eyes.
He hadn't meant to worry you. When he'd woken up in a cold sweat with a scream dying in his throat and turned to find you sleeping peacefully beside him he felt panic swell in his chest. The nightmare wasn't any different than the rest of them. It felt just as real as the others. But it's what had happened in the dream, what he'd done, that filled him with the overwhelming urge to get away from you. His subconscious couldn't help but torture him further by replacing the image of his victim with you. And replacing their screams with your voice, begging him to stop.
"It's okay, baby." Your voice pulled him back and grounded him. "Why don't you tell me what happened," you coaxed gently and he immediately shook his head.
"Don't want to."
"I can't," he said quickly, his voice sharp. He swallowed and shook his head and you noticed the tears building in his eyes. Gently, you slowly ran your hand up his arm and brushed it through his hair. He exhaled frailly.
It was quiet for a moment as Bucky wrung his hands. His gaze lingered on the intricate workings of the vibranuim for a few seconds more before he closed the prosthetic hand into a loose fist.
"I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper and he refused to look at you as you listened attentively, comfortingly rubbing his back. He felt his chest grow tighter as everything else fell past his parted lips all at once. "You're all I have. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time and I can't risk losing you. I can't."
Your expression saddened as Bucky hid his face in his hands. You carefully wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into your side and he went willingly, flesh arm wrapping around your neck. You shushed him gently and his aching muscles relaxed against you. Horrifying images from his nightmare flashed to the forefront of his mind but he did his best to dismiss them as he clutched onto you tighter.
"You won't lose me, Bucky. I'm not going anywhere." You pulled back slightly and cupped his face with your free hand, your thumb tracing his cheek. "Your past doesn't scare me. I promised you that I'd stick by you no matter what happens and I meant it. You don't have to hide from me, Buck."
Your hand fell from his cheek and gently rested against his forearm and he did his best to focus on your touch. He took a deep breath as he sat up and cleared his throat.
"When I have them they feel so real it's like I'm reliving it. They're not just nightmares, they're memories. And I remember all of it." He said quietly, eyes not leaving the counter. He felt his stomach tie itself in a knot and an uncomfortable weight setting in on his chest. Yet he willed himself to keep going.
"Tonight it was a mission in Germany, sometime during the eighties. A hydra intel agent had gone rough and they sent me to take care of him. Hydra couldn't afford to have any loose ends so it was my job to tie them all up. I eliminated the target like I was supposed to but-"
He hesitated and inhaled sharply. He was fidgeting anxiously, his fingers tapping relentlessly against the counter. His hand was itching to reach out and take the glass of liquor still sat in front of him. If anything just to feel something other than the pain in his chest. But he with-held the urge. He knew it wouldn't help, but telling you would.
"A young couple saw. Jesus, they were just kids." His voice broke. "But I had my orders. No witnesses. So, I killed them."
Tears pricked his eyes and he found it difficult to hold them at bay. A lump was forming in his throat and he felt moments away from breaking.
"I killed them."
He gritted his teeth as he grappled with himself and the tears began to fall. The nightmare had been among the worst he'd had in months. He'd learned to find a certain peace in some, knowing those he killed were bad, corrupt people who had hurt others. But this time that wasn't the case. They were innocent and young and had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have had a life together. Bucky couldn't help but think how if it had not been for him then they could have been married with children, grandchildren by now. But they weren't. Their lives had been cut short by him.
You stood and pulled him into a gentle embrace as a quiet sob left his lips. Your hand ran through his hair as he rested his head against your stomach. Still seated, his arms encircled your waist.
You let him cry as he held onto you like a lifeline. Only when the tears had stopped and his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whimper did his grip ease ever so slightly. You pulled away and sat back down facing him. His expression was blank as he glanced at his hands, pale cheeks still stained by tears and his eyes red and puffy.
You reached up and gingerly brushed away the tears still clung to his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
"Bucky," you tried timidly but he didn't look at you. "Baby, listen to me."
He sighed and brokenly lifted his head. The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You kept your tone soft and reassuring.
"What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice. You're just as much of a victim as they were. Hydra killed those people. Hydra created him, the winter soldier. And he's not you, Bucky. He never was."
With a tired shake of his head, Bucky huffed.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know you." You answered simply and Bucky's expression softened. "I know the real you. I know you don't like it when people call you James because it makes you feel old. I know that you love reading books and drinking green tea. And I know that even though you say you're not a people person you're really good with kids."
Bucky's brows creased and his lip trembled slightly as he looked to you and hung on to each and every one of your words. You smiled, tenderly tracing his jaw with your hand and he sighed, leaning into your touch.
"You're not a killer, Bucky. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over. And don't compare yourself to the people who forced you to do it."
Your words hit home and Bucky found himself standing from his seat and pulling you to his chest before his mind could completely catch up with him. He held you tightly, composure threatening to slip away again but this time for a completely different reason. You softly uttered words of comfort as he pressed you to his chest.
"I love you," you said quietly after a moment and you heard, or rather you felt, Bucky chuckle quietly.
"Sometimes I can't help but wonder why."
His hands didn't leave the small of your back as you pulled away just enough to look up at him. Your reassuring smile sent a wave of warmth through him.
"Because you're a better man than you give yourself credit for. And because you're kind-hearted, strong, sweet, brave. I could go on forever. You're a hero, Bucky, and a good man. Whether your mind lets you believe it yet or not."
Sighing with a teary smile, Bucky pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension slowly melt from his shoulders and tensed muscles. As if a weight had been lifted from his burdened mind.
I love you too." He mumbled against your forehead and you hummed quietly, nuzzling into him. You stood together in shared silence for a few minutes, or maybe more, neither of you were counting. The chill gradually making its way up your spine and nipping at your exposed skin, along with the growing urge to yawn was the only thing that caused you to pull away and break the serenity of the moment. It was still pretty early and a few more hour in bed sounded ideal. You both needed it.
As you pulled away from the warmth of Bucky's embrace your eyes landed on the counter and you heard Bucky quietly sigh beside you.
"I didn't drink any," he explained, motioning to the untouched glass of scotch sitting on the counter top.
You smiled sadly and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He was always so hard on himself. Sometimes he seemed to forget he was only human.
"Don't worry about it, it's okay." You said comfortingly and he let his head fall gently against your shoulder. "Let's get back to bed, hm? We don't have to sleep if you don't want to. You can just rest and we can talk a little more?"
Bucky smiled against you. "I'd like that." A gentle kiss was placed to your shoulder. "Sounds perfect."
You gently caught Bucky's hand as you both left the kitchen and trudged back towards your shared room. The covers and sheets had grown cold as you crawled back into bed but Bucky didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. Certainly not as you lay beside him, his head coming to rest against your shoulder as your hand worked its way through his dishevelled hair. The nightmares were nothing but a thing of the past as he closed his eyes and sighed. He was home, safe and not alone.
tag list: @miraclesoflove @bakerstreethound @nahthanks @doozywoozy @the-queer-dungeoneer @kealohilani-tepsie
can i get fluff prompt 10 with Zemo braiding reader's hair please? 💜🥺
Hello there! This prompt is so cute, so I thought I'd take a break from writing my angsty fic to do this instead <3
I wrote it with a female reader in mind, but it could easily work for a male or nb reader who happens to have long hair :)
You loved it when Zemo played with your hair.
No matter how anxious, angry, or upset you’d been previously, it all seemed to melt away when you felt his fingers carefully brushing through the soft strands. You’d always end up cuddling up next to him, making you feel remarkably calm and usually a bit sleepy.
Today had been no different. You had been sitting together on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder, enjoying a very rare moment of complete peace and quiet. When you felt his hand touch the top of your head, you sighed contentedly and pressed yourself closer to him.
Zemo leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and then shifted so he was sitting sideways on the couch, facing you. You looked to him inquisitively, and he smiled, gesturing with his finger for you to do the same as he had.
You nodded, turning your body so your lower back was leaning against his crossed legs. His fingers were running through your hair again, and all you wanted to do was fall backwards so you could lie against him.
“What are you doing?” You asked, nearly giggling though the words, as Zemo’s fingers brushed against the back of your neck. You tried to turn your head back to look at him, but one of his hands gently pressed against your cheek to stop you.
“Stop moving and let me braid your hair.” Zemo’s voice was quiet, a result of not having spoken much in the last hour.
“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you said, surprised by how skilled he was at this. He hadn’t pulled your hair too tightly even once, something you hadn’t experienced before while someone else was styling your hair.
“I’m a man of many surprises, liebling.” You heard his quiet chuckle as he continued his task. You couldn’t help but wonder where he learned to do such a thing, and you made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Eventually, you knew he was finished when you felt him secure the bottom of the braid with a hair tie - he’d probably picked it up after you left it lying around somewhere - before leaning into you to kiss you on the cheek.
You shifted yourself again so you could turn to face him, your cheeks warming at the sight of him smiling at you. “Beautiful,” he stated plainly, one hand moving up to hold your chin delicately.
He leaned in to kiss your lips, and you let your fingers thread softly through his hair now, feeling him sigh against you. Though you knew that soon enough, something dramatic would happen to burst your peaceful little bubble, you were happy to enjoy the time you had with him now.
A/N: Hey y’all! I hope you’ve had a great week! Sorry for the large gap between these few parts. I have been swamped on schoolwork because of AP exams coming up. I do not own any of these characters except (y/n)! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Zemo has one plan to get to the source of the serum in Madripoor; the winter soldier. After a fiasco in low-town, the three of you run into an old ally who is willing to help you in your mission.
Warnings: mentions of blood, minor character death, typical cannon violence, angst, some fluff
(y/n) - your name
(y/l/n) - your last name
(y/n/n) - your nickname
(y/h/c) - your hair color
Italics - flashbacks
As I was slowly waking up, I hear the words I never wanted to hear; “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Suddenly wide awake, I shoot up out of my chair.
“No! Absolutely not! Bucky, you’re not him anymore!”
“Hey, take it easy, (y/n/n). You’re still hurt.” Bucky says softly. “As much as I hate it too, it’s the only way, doll.”
“You’re serious? James, come on! This is the same Zemo who made you fight all of us in 2016!”
Bucky stands up from his chair and walks towards me, gently grabbing my uninjured arm. He leads me away from the cabin and into the small kitchen where we could have some privacy. To my surprise, he immediately envelopes me into a hug, careful of my injuries.
Burying my face in his shoulder, I quietly ask, “Bucky, how are you actually feeling about this?
“I’m okay.” I know he’s lying because I can physically feel him tense up at the question.
“I’m terrified, (y/n). The last time I was him, I fought you, Steve, and the other Avengers.....I know I just have to act like him, but it just brings me back there.”
I pull away so I can look him in the eyes. “You didn’t have a choice then, but you do now. You’re finally in a good place. Please don’t do this Buck.”
“I hate this, but I have to. It’s the only way to find out where the serum is coming from.”
I sigh, stepping back from him to lean against the counter. “If I can’t change your mind, I’m coming with you.”
His expression hardened. “No. Absolutely not. You’re still hurt. You still have to wear a sling and have a cast on your hand!”
To make a point, I quickly take my arm out of my sling before he could stop me.
“Damn it, (y/n)!”
“See?” I move my arm around in a circle, biting back a groan because of the pain radiating from my bicep. “I’m fine!”
“You’re so damn stubborn!” He huffs before storming out of the room.
I can’t believe he’s actually going this, and I really don’t know why he’s trusting Zemo. I can’t help but think back to Berlin and all the problems surrounding our “Civil War.”
Zemo’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “James has informed me that you are going to be accompanying us to Madripoor. Here is your attire for the mission.” I take the dress he was holding out to me and hold it up to my figure.
“It doesn’t leave much to imagination, does it?”
“You will have to play as Smiling Tiger’s date. Sam will be playing him and James and I will be playing as ourselves.”
Scoffing at the fact Zemo thinks Bucky is only the Winter Soldier, I turn and walk into the bathroom to get changed.
The dress is upper thigh length, form fitting, dark green, and completely covered in sequins. It has a plunging neckline that makes me very self conscious of my physique. As I’m looking in the mirror, my mind wanders to the last time I got dressed up like this. Nat and I had went out for a girls night just a few weeks before the tragic mission in Lagos. She always had told me that I had to be willing to go out of my comfort zone for missions and just everyday life. Our current situation definitely qualifies as out of my comfort zone.
With every movement of my arm, it sent sharp pains through my bicep. I sneak into the kitchen and take more pain medicine without anyone else seeing, then go back to the bathroom. When I was almost done fixing my hair and makeup, I hear a knock on the door.
“Here are some shoes.” It was Bucky. I can tell he is still angry at me but I really don’t care. There’s no way I would let him go anywhere with Zemo without me, even if Sam was there.
“Thanks.” I open the door and grab the shoes as I walk past him. He grabs my uninjured hand, stopping my movement. I turn towards him and I was not expecting the look I got from him. It was like his anger had faded away as soon as he saw me.
“Wow. You look so beautiful, doll. I really like that on you.” His warmth filled eyes roamed my body and lingered where the dress was tightest on my curves. That was when I noticed the uniform he was wearing. It was very similar to the actual Winter Soldier vest that Bucky wore in D.C.
“Thanks James. I wish I could say I like yours.”
“I know. I don’t like it either.....look, I’m sorry about earlier. I just don’t want you getting hurt again.”
I nod as I sit on the seat to look at the heels he gave me. They were four inch black block heels with ankle straps. Surprisingly, they fit me perfect. Standing up, I pull the dress down, trying to cover as much exposed skin as I can.
Bucky looked like he was about to say something but stopped at the sight of Sam walking in the room. I look over to him and immediately start laughing. He was wearing a dark red suit with yellow circles and all types of decorations.
Looking to over to Bucky, I continue to laugh as a smile cracks on his face.
“Shut up, (y/l/n).”
Zemo walks in. “Time to go.”
Bucky and I haven’t said much to each other since his apology. We’re currently walking on a bridge, making our way to Madripoor.
“We have to do something about this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp.” Sam complains.
“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” My eyes widen and a laugh threatens to leave my lips at Zemo’s words.
“He even has a bad nickname.” Zemo leans over and shows Sam a picture of Smiling Tiger on his phone. “Hell, he does look like me, though.
As I take a deep breath, my nose burns from some horrid scent. “You smell this?”
“Yeah, what is that? Acid?”
A car approaches us and stops about 10 feet ahead of us. As we all walk towards the car, Zemo starts talking again.
“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error. High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way.”
Bucky opens his mouth for the first time in a while. “Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town.”
He gets no response as Zemo gets into the car and waits for the rest of us to get in. Bucky opens the door for me and gently grabs my hand.
“Please be careful. And know I’m sorry for whatever I may have to do.”
“Always, James.” I lean up and kiss him on the cheek before getting in the car, where he gets in next to me.
Arriving in the club, I could practically feel every man’s eyes on me. It made me feel so objectified, and Sam caught onto this. He pulled me closer to him by my waist and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” into my ear. Looking over at Bucky, I see that it’s hard for him to keep his cool at all of these men looking me up and down. Even though he is frustrated with me, and vice versa, he still is my boyfriend. We make eye contact for a short second and his eyes convey a thousand emotions.
As we’re walking through the club, the people surrounding us start to notice and chatter about who was with us; the Winter Soldier. Finally making it to the bar, a bartender approaches us, looking at Sam.
Seeing Sam somewhat panic, Zemo saves him. “His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.”
“What would you like, sweetheart?”
I clear my throat, “Just water please.” He gives me a weird look but hands me a glass.
This time he turns to Sam. “The usual?”
He nods and the bartender turns around and grabs a snake from a jar on a shelf. Sam looks at me with wide eyes as I suppress another laugh. The man cuts into the snake’s stomach, grabs something out of it, and drips
“Ah. Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” Zemo jabs with a smirk.
Looking extremely uncomfortable, Sam picks up his drink. “I love these.”
“Cheers, Conrad.” They clink their glasses together and Zemo drinks his shot straight away. Sam, on the other hand, just puts the glass to his lips. Getting a whiff of the strong stench, he groans, moving it to his eye level.
“Mmm.” He brings it to his lips once again but hesitates on drinking it. With a final, groan, he downs the drink while I just sip my water, trying not to laugh. Bucky subtly nods and looks away with a tiny smirk in order to stop himself from laughing too.
Eyeing Sam suspiciously, the bartender walks away. Immediately, our attention is stolen by a bald man with a bushy beard.
“I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here.”
“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” Zemo gestures mover to Bucky.
“New haircut?” The man asks.
Taking a breath, Zemo finishes, “Or bring Selby for a chat.”
With that, the man walks away and I find myself drawing closer and closer to Sam out of fear of what might soon happen. Zemo turns towards Bucky as he grumbles.
“A power broker? Really?”
“Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar.” This is the first time I’ve ever seen Zemo even moderately scared over a potential adversary.
Sensing there was something he wasn’t telling us, I break my silence. “Do you know him?”
“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”
Within a few seconds of Zemo’s comment, another burly man walks towards us. As soon as the Baron started speaking Russian, I knew what was about to happen, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. The only thing I could do was hold onto Sam and try not to act like it bothered me.
“Зимний солдат. Атака.”
When the man placed his hand on Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang into action, grabbing his hand and clotheslining him. As more men ran towards him, he continued to take them out.
Zemo leaned over to Sam and I, whispering, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”
At his comment, I almost punched him but Sam gripped my waist tighter, warning me not to. As if he felt my blood pressure rising, Bucky ended the fight by slamming a man onto the counter with his hand around the guy’s neck. Suddenly, guns were being cocked all around us and Sam placed a hand on Bucky’s vibranuim arm.
“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Warns Zemo in a whisper.
He turns to Bucky. “Молодец, солдат.”
The whole bar is silent until the bartender from earlier breaks it. “Selby will see you now.”
Bucky slowly lets go of the wheezing man who then falls onto the floor. He quickly looks over at me with a look I can’t identify except as shame. I wish I could run to him and give him a hug, saying everything is okay. Sadly, we have roles to play.
As Sam and I walk closer to him, Sam asks, “You good?” All James does in response is inhale sharply and nod quickly before walking away. Having enough of the act, I reach out for his hand. I’m quickly stopped by Zemo who gives me a death stare that reads, “Stay in character.” As much as I hate it, he’s right. Taking my place on Sam’s arm, I silently pray nothing else will go wrong in our mission.
a whole lot of fluff, clueless bucky and some cuddling, bucky is a sucker for cuddling! this is the last part of the losing you series 🥺 i’ve loved writing this - thank you for the continuous amount of love and support on it.
just a short little piece to finish it off!
losing you masterlist! happy reading!
Waking up early is something bucky does everyday. He doesn’t set an alarm or leave the curtains open before he goes to bed, he just wakes up at 6 in the morning naturally. You absolutely loathe it. Not only does the warmth and your beefy boyfriend leave the bed, bucky barnes does not know how to be quiet. You have to give it to him, he’s been working on a lot of things. His emotions, communication etc. But understanding that you don’t want to wake up at 6am isn’t one of the things he just can’t get over. Every night before bed for the last two weeks he’s asked you to wake up early with him for a coffee and a run, every night you say no. You need your beauty sleep, and you’re working from home at the moment so you’re taking every chance of lie in you can.
“Baby, please” Bucky pleaded, kissing behind your ear as you lay in bed. You were reading a report you wrote up today, and bucky just got back from a mission. You would’ve thought he’d be exhausted after fighting all of those bad guys, but if anything - bucky has more energy. You were kind of hoping he would drop the 6 am thing and just sleep in with you. But no, he’s just as adamant as two weeks ago. Maybe if you weren’t absolutely exhausted from the last couple of months at work you would do this coffee and run with him, you love spending time with bucky.
After the fight, bucky has been better. He hasn’t changed, he’s still the same stubborn and blunt man you met a year ago. But he’s learning every day, going to his therapy sessions, hanging out with friends. Bucky is doing a lot better. He tells you when you’ve hurt his feelings and encourages you to do the same, you communicate and talk through your problems no matter how loud it gets.
Bucky is dropping you to the bar, massaging you whenever you want, getting you cakes and buying you dinner.
And even the simple things where he kisses your temple, or tucks you into his side. Bucky barnes is everything you could ever want and more.
“Why do you want to go out at 6 am?” You giggled turning over to face him, bucky was now on his side his head leaning on his hand, so he was looking down at you. You wanted to know why he was adamant on getting you out at an ungodly hour.
“Just want to spend time with my girl, is that too much to ask for?” He said and you smiled softly, pecking his lips. Your hand goes to his shoulder as you shake your head.
“No it’s not” You said and then nodded to yourself. “Ok, we’ll go for a coffee and a run tomorrow morning” You said, giving in to his pleads. Buckys eyes widened and he immediately buried his head into your neck, his arm going across you waist. You laughed loudly as he kissed down your neck.
“Need to get some sleep then, you’re not going to like me at 6 am”
Bucky tutted at you placing the report that was resting on your stomach on your bedside table. “I like you all the time, no matter how early it is” He said and you smiled placing your lips on his.
“Even when i’m grumpy?” You asked in between kisses.
“Even when you’re grumpy”
With that, you both got out of the bed to do your night time routine. You had been staying over at buckys place for the last couple of days and before that bucky was staying at yours. You like to be around each other, you’re not dependent on each other but you do like to be together. Bucky is so comforted by your energy, always ready to listen, help and offer the best advice you possibly can.
You get out your tooth brush as place it under the tap, and then put the toothpaste on it. Bucky is beside you doing the same to his, you hit your hip of his sending him a little smile to comfort him. You know how he gets before bed. Before this, sex with you was distracting him from all the nightmares and ugly things of the night. Now that you’re together and not doing anything to distract himself from his own harming thoughts, he gets nervous.
Nervous that he might hurt you or injure himself. You know he would never intentionally hurt you, no matter how mean bucky can get he’d never lay a hand on. You’re very sure of that.
You spit the toothpaste out, running your tooth brush under the water.
“You doing ok?” You asked and bucky nodded, cleaning his own tooth brush. You raised an eyebrow leaning against the sink. “I’m just, a little anxious. Nothing new, baby” He said putting his tooth brush away. You pouted and brought him into a hug.
“How about some face masks?” You asked with a grin, before bucky could even blink you had two face masks in your hand and was pulling him over the toilet. You practically pushed you boyfriend onto the toilet seat, he wasn’t wearing a shirt (requested by you) so it made it easier to do the face mask.
You put yours on quickly, and then rushed back to a bored looking bucky.
“You’ll love it” You reassured opening up the packet. Bucky sighed “The things i do for you” He mumbled closing his eyes and placing his hands on either side of you waist.
You place the face mask on your boyfriends face, carefully spreading it over his cheeks and forehead. He had perfect skin, you would be forever jealous of it.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”
He nodded leaning into your hand a little bit, you could see he was a little sleepy. “Can we watch an episode of new girl before bed?” You asked and of course bucky nodded. He secretly really liked the show, but he would never tell you that. You already knew, that’s why you asked.
“We’ll wash these off after this episode and then head to bed. Sound good, buck?” You asked and bucky nodded placing a hand on your shoulder guiding you back into the bedroom and grabbing the remote off your dresser. He was really quiet, which was something you’d have to get used to. It was just before bed when he got super quiet and you had to do all the talking. You didn’t mind one bit, bucky is a very good listener. He could listen to you talk for hours on end.
During the episode, bucky lay his head in your lap. You massaged his scalp, sometimes bucky reminds you of a little golden retriever.
“This part is funny” You said and bucky nodded agreeing rubbing at his eyes. You could tell he was tired.
“Why don’t we go wash these off and finish the episode after we get back from our run?”
Bucky sighed and stretched standing up, and then holding out his hands to help you up. You walked in front of him, bucky slapped your ass. He just couldn’t help it, your ass looks amazing in those shorts. You giggled and hit his shoulder.
You washed both of your faces and squished buckys cheeks together, he had a nice glow about him recently.
Bucky would definitely say it’s because of you.
You would say it’s because bucky is actually taking his mental health seriously.
“I love you” Bucky said and you stopped drying his face. You’ve said it before, but bucky had never really understood it until now. You doing all of this for him made him feel so happy, so warm and loved inside. The fact that you would stop watching your favourite show for him, give up your time and good face masks for him and constantly reassure and care for him.
Bucky barnes loves you so fucking much and he just can’t comprehend it, but he’s working on it.
“I love that you’re willing to wake up early for me, and to sit up and cuddle me when you’re obviously tired. I love that you’re always around, ready with advice, i love that you give the best hugs and know the right thing to say all the time” He said you blushed placing a hand on his cheek.
“I love you, Y/N. And i hate that i treated you so badly. I love you, and i’ll never love anyone the way i love you” He said and you bit your lip to try and stop the tears.
“I love you more, james”
And with that you both settled down and went to bed, you turned the tv off and looked over at bucky. “Shirt off or on?” You teased and bucky smirked.
summary: Bucky’s cat alpine passed away, and you knew just the thing to help cheer him up.
word count: 1382
warning: brief talk ab pet death, but nothing else after that <3
Bucky was having a very difficult time, his beloved cat Alpine, had passed away a few months ago. You hated how upset Bucky was about it, but you understood his pain. Alpine had been his best friend, and you were blessed to have known him the last few years of his precious life.
You had done your best taking care of Bucky, making sure that he didn’t get too caught up in his thoughts because you knew he was prone to do that. You two were currently sitting on your shared couch in your apartment, watching the tv but not really paying attention.
Bucky had his head in your lap, your fingers lazily combed through his brown locks, humming softly as he had his eyes on the tv. He sighed heavily, making you look down and meet his gaze. You knew something was up.
“What’s up, my love?” You combed his hair, scratching his scalp softly, earning another gasp from him. He looked up at you and crossed his fingers across his chest.
“Just miss Alpine,” He shrugged his shoulders, looking back over to the tv that was on a commercial. You continued to play with his hair, twisting the locks through your fingers and feeling the silk texture of his curls run through your fingers.
“I know, honey.” You frowned as he closed his eyes taking another deep breath, before sitting up, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You felt your sleeve feel wet to the touch before you noticed Bucky was crying. You held his face with your hand, rubbing his cheek with your thumb, humming softly in attempts to smooth him. He sniffled, sitting up and looking down.
“I- I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t meant to get your shirt wet.” He chuckled sadly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. You shrugged, sitting towards him and grabbing his face with your hands. You didn’t care about your shirt, you cared more about the man you loved in front of you, hurting.
“It’s okay, silly. I have plenty of shirts. I care about you, more.” You rubbed his cheek again, catching a stray tear that fell down his face. You brought his face into yours and settled on a kiss, earning a low hum from him.
You pulled back and brought his hands into yours, the rough texture of his fingers grazing over your soft skin, thinking of all the mission he went on and how he earned those callouses. Thinking about what you could do for Bucky, a thought popped into your mind.
“Hey, I don’t know what your thoughts are on tattoos, but I have an artist who could do a tribute tattoo for Alpine, so he’s always with you.” He looked up at you, a sad smile showing. Your body was covered in different tattoos, and you knew Bucky loved each and every one of them, as he often found himself tracing the outlines of them just like he was doing right now to the heart one on your wrist.
He shrugged, and you could feel he was hesitant. Getting up, you went to the kitchen and opened a drawer, rummaging through the papers looking for something specific until you found it and pulled it out, showing Bucky.
“You could get this, right on your wrist. Like he’s always holding your hand with his paw.” You and Bucky had gotten a thing where you could press your cats paw against a piece of paper, and it inked the shape onto a piece of paper. It was Alpine’s paw, you had gotten it done a few months after you met him. His eyes lit up at the idea, getting up from the couch and nodding his head eagerly. He had never gotten a tattoo, admittedly afraid of needles even though he has a whole ass metal arm.
“Go get dressed, love. I’ll call my artist right now.” You walked over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, the stubble scratching your soft lips as he smiled and you felt his cheeks move. He walked into the bedroom to change while you called up your artist.
You both arrived to the shop about an hour later, having to coax Bucky’s nerves the entire way. He told you he had never gotten a tattoo nor had ever even thought of one, as the needles scared him too much. You reassured him that it would be a bit painful, but it would sting and would go away in a few hours.
As you guys entered the shop, your artist said hello to you, ushering you back to his spot, and having Bucky sit on the chair. You pulled out the paper with Alpine’s paw on it, handing it over to your artist.
“First time for a tattoo?” Your artist asked as they made a copy for an outline and Bucky nervously nodded. They smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly. They were covered in tattoos just like you, same piercings and everything.
“It’ll be okay, I’ll start off a little, ask how you’re feeling and we can go from there. Don’t hesitate to let me know if it’s too much, alright?” They pressed the stencil to Bucky’s right wrist, peeling the paper off and showing him.
“That look good?” He nodded as he looked at Alpine’s paw print on his wrist, smiling. You sat down next to him, hand resting on his thigh and squeezing lightly. He looked over and met your gaze, excitement but nervousness swimming through his baby blues. He held onto your hand with his metal hand, squeezing as he heard the tattoo gun start up.
“Here we go, let me know if you need a break, okay?” He nodded his head and your artist got to work. Bucky flinched at first as soon as the tattoo gun made contact with his skin, but as soon as it kept going, he got used to the pain. It wasn’t as bad as he was hyping it up in his head, but it did still sting.
He flexed his hand in yours, squeezing when the tattoo gun went over one of his bigger veins, breathing in through his nose, out his mouth just like you told him too. You looked up at him as he had his eyes closed, and back down at the tattoo that was nearly done.
“You’re doing so well, Buck.” He loved hearing you praise him, and the assurance helped him breath steady as the tattoo gun went over another vein.
A few minutes had passed and the tattoo gun clicked off, Bucky opening his eyes and looking down at the tattoo. It was perfect, he hadn’t seen so much detail go into a tattoo before, and he loved that it matched the original to a T. They wiped off the extra ink, and looked up at him.
“What do we think?” They chewed their lip as Bucky just stared at his tattoo, smiling softly.
“It looks so good, I love it.” They clapped their hands, happy that their client loved their first tattoo. They grabbed some wrap, and purple gauze and wrapped his wrist so it would be protected. They went over aftercare, but knew you’d help him take care of it.
You paid for the tattoo, thanking your artist and made a future appointment for yourself and grabbed Bucky’s hand, walking out and heading home.
“You did so well, it looks so good. You love it?” He looked over at you as you two were hand in hand deciding to walk home, nodding his head. He stopped and pulled you close, hands wrapped around your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck lazily. He kissed you softly, smiling against your mouth.
“It’s perfect. Thank you for taking me, doll.” You smiled as you pulled him in for another kiss, pleased with yourself that he loved his first ever tattoo.
“Now he will be with you, forever.” You kissed his nose as he chuckled, lifting you up and twirling you around before setting you back down on your feet. Bucky was so happy with his tattoo, and his heart felt a little lighter knowing he had Alpine’s paw on him forever, having a piece of him wherever he went.
“Hey, doll.” Bucky entered your room, after knocking to check if you were decent. He’d done this routine every Saturday, waking you up early to ask if you wanted to train. Everyone had a partner to train with, and considering the pair of you were handy with knives, you were training buddies. Some Saturday’s you’d say yes, throwing a few knives with him, but most Saturday’s resulted in a sad Bucky leaving your room.
“I probably know the answer,” Bucky mentioned, folding his arms and leaning on the wooden door frame, “but do you wanna train?” You sat up from the bed you’d not left since 6pm yesterday. Steve would often come up with food, practically forcing you to eat.
Shaking your head, you smiled disappointingly at him before tucking yourself back in. He couldn’t be mad at you wanting to close yourself off, he would do it if he’d been through what you have. He’d been in a similar situation, but not quite. He just wished he could talk to you, get you out of bed for a few hours, at least.
“Nothing?” Steve questioned his friend, Bucky shaking his head in defeat. Sitting beside him on the couch, Bucky sighed heavily. Steve placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, feeling quite empathetic for him.
Steve was aware of Bucky’s years-long crush on you. Since you’d joined 3 years ago, he’d had heart eyes for you. But you were unavailable. You’d joined as a duo — with your boyfriend. The pair of you were the saviours of your hometown of Ohio, and the Avengers had scouted you to join them. The both of you were well-trained in combat, having met at a boxing gym. You were more knife savvy and stealthy, whereas, your boyfriend couldn’t miss a shot. So you were able to be both long range and short range.
Bucky’s growing crush had increased more as the months passed, seeing you being flirty, no matter who surrounded you or what you were doing. It sickened him. You were so sweet, truly carrying for Bucky, and he couldn’t have you. He tried giving up on his unrequited love, but he just couldn’t. You were too kind to him, it made him fall over and over again. Steve had helped him to at least cope with his feelings, and be able to work around you. You’d formed a pretty good friendship through training and in battle.
You remembered it like it was just a moment ago. One minute you were holding off a small group of soldiers, swiftly slicing them with your knife, your boyfriend trailing closely behind you with an P90. Next minute, he was a bloody mess in your arms, an inch within his death. You didn’t let him go for 24 minutes, Bucky finally prying you off of him. You’d lost everyone in your life — and now him. Love didn’t seem possible at this point, so you’d focused on your career, keeping your lover in your heart.
Bucky knew you’d become completely off limits the second you introduced your boyfriend to him, but even more so now, now that you were mourning your love. He chose to be there for you more than he was before, providing distractions for you, inviting you to training sessions, taking you out for lunch. And it worked, sometimes, but other days weren’t so great. You’d become bed bound from this heartache, and even after a year without him, it still hurt now and then. There would be nights when Bucky would hear your cries of pain, and come to comfort you, eventually the both of you would fall asleep together. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Bucky romantically this past year, but you threw it off as grief for your boyfriend. It would always lead to the inevitable question — were you ready for a relationship?
“I know it’s harsh to think about, but it’s been a year now,” Steve mentioned, “you need to make some sort of move.” Bucky sighed heavily, for the millionth time today. He knew Steve was right, but how? How could he make a move on a girl still grieving her boyfriend?
It was as if Steve read his mind, “ask her out to dinner, clearly training isn’t working.” It was a good idea, and a good suggestion, too. He’d taken a walk back to your room, preparing the cocky side of himself to appear. You were still tucked into bed, this time with your phone in your hands. You weren’t always this down, it was just one of your bad days.
“Seeing as you won’t train with me,” he began, sitting on the side of your bed, “will you come to dinner?” You rolled over to face him, your head on your hand and your messy hair covering your face. He caught sight of your weak smile, and a nod following shortly after.
The shower felt good, running your finger through your, now smooth, hair felt better. You’d found a casual yet nice outfit to wear, meeting Bucky in the lobby of the compound. Being out of the comfort of your own bed felt weird, you felt cold and out of place. Guilt and grief were weighing down on you, already exhausted from just showering.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll.” Bucky called out as he approached you, jacket in hand and RayBans perched upon his nose. He gave you a small squeeze, leading you to his car. You sat in the passenger seat, taking in the fresh smell. For an old man, he sure had a modern taste in cars.
He’d driven to a diner, one you’d been to many times with him. And you liked that he kept going here, you were obsessed with their onion rings. Bucky’s hand held yours the entire night, making sure you were safe and okay. It felt... nice. But you got the occasional feeling that you were cheating. That your boyfriend would be watching over you in tears that you’d moved on from him.
You pushed any negative thought you had to the back of your mind, and decided to enjoy the evening. You’d eaten more tonight than you’d eaten the past few days. Bucky always knew how to make you laughed, and make you feel comfortable. It definitely beat being alone in bed. However, when you’d gotten home, you began to freak out. You didn’t think you could move on from your boyfriend, you didn’t think you’d love the same way again after him. In a frenzy, you’d texted Bucky.
Tonight was nice, but I can’t do this.
He was expecting it, to be frank. He knew you’d panic over just being in a date setting. And as much as his heart was broken, he respected you more than anything. The next few nights were filled with awkward interactions for the both of you, Steve asking you both about the date. To which you’d both responded, “yeah, great.”
Tonight, you’d found yourself in bed, per usual, needing to feel someone’s touch. Just a hug, or something. Wrapping your arms around yourself wasn’t doing it. It was 3.39am, would Bucky be awake? The answer was yes. He was throwing punches at a punching bag in one of the training rooms. Nights were he couldn’t sleep, this is where you’d find him.
Hey, could you come up here?
That was the scariest thing you’d done, and you fought bad guys for a living. Nonetheless, Bucky trailed upstairs with his phone in his hand and met you in your room. Just for you to say, “I needed a hug.”
He’d fallen into your arms with ease, who in their right mind would turn this down? He held you, feeling you shift until your were comfortable. His arms felt tighter than your boyfriend’s, you felt safer. It was harsh to admit, but it’s true. In a moment of pure peace, you couldn’t get your mouth or brain to shut up.
“I’m sorry for that text the other day,” you whispered, your lips a centimetre from his neck, “I didn’t think I should be moving this fast, I was scared to think I had feelings for you. But I do. I’m just terrified to get into another relationship.” You were painfully honest, and he loved it.
“I’ve got you. I’m never going to ask you to forget him, or get over him, but I want you to give this a try. I promise you, till the day I die, I will love you endlessly. If you let me.” He spoke his mind, holding you closer as he said so. A tear fell, not thinking you’d hear those words ever again.
“It’ll be hard to let someone else in.” You confessed, looking up at him. His thumb swiped over your tear, ridding it from your face.
“I’ll wait for you, I swear.” He repeated. You knew he meant it. Bucky was always truthful with you, he respected you. It would be a shame to let him down. So you’d didn’t. As promised, you took it slowly.
There would still be nights where he held you, hoping to let you cry out your pain on his shoulder. You still had days where you were stuck in bed, but it was nothing a little breakfast and kisses couldn’t fix.
Here's Part 3 and my Masterlist for additional parts.
TW: panic attack
"Come on, Sam. You're not going to hurt me," you protested.
"It's like a dance, baby. You can't rush right into the performance. It takes several weeks, even months to build up to that point," Sam grinned. "Try again."
You huffed, but clenched your fist and went right for his splayed palm. You were tired of hitting his hands. You wanted to do something fun.
"Again," he said.
This time when you went for the punch, he grabbed your fist and twisted your wrist painfully.
"Ow. What was that for?" you whined. He didn't release you, just untwisted you and pulled you to his chest.
"You're too slow. You're giving the other person the advantage," his words were low and breathy in your ear and you couldn't help the contagious smile you gave him. "Let's take a break. You've improved a lot."
"How do I get faster?" you asked curiously. It seemed there was only so much movement you could put into the swing. You swung into the air just to test the theory.
Sam chuckled. You were a funny girl. "It's just going to take practice. I think when we start adding some steps it'll become more reflexive."
You turned and wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you tight.
"Thank you for helping me. I know you're busy."
"Never too busy for you," he said. "Ready to go to DC tomorrow?"
You shrugged, "This place has grown on me, but I'd never want to be anywhere you weren't."
Sam cupped your cheeks, running his thumb along your skin soothingly. You were so sweet. "We'll be back soon. You could just stay. I know you want to be with me, but remember, I'm going on a mission and will be away for a few days."
You sighed. The past few days had been blissful, but he was Captain America after all. "I just want to spend as much time with you as possible," you said earnestly, covering his hands with your own.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You weren't expecting the kiss, but it didn't stop the hammering of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach. This man truly was your everything, not that you had much to begin with..
He pulled away, brushing his lips against your forehead and pulling you tighter.
"I have never seen DC before," you mumbled into his chest.
"There's a lot to see, that's for sure."
The one thing Sam didn't know about you was your reoccurring nightmares. The few nights you had been in Louisiana, you had slept alone. He had enough to worry about, and you didn't see any reason to tell him. There wasn't anything that could be done either way.
You had to be up bright and early to travel, but everytime you got far enough in sleep, you were jolted awake.
You pushed your sweaty hair out of your face, glancing at the clock that only said two am.
You reached for the lamp, your hand brushing the cool metal knob of the bedside table in the darkness. You felt your chest tighten.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willingly away the dark images that flashed in your mind.
Your ears began to ring as your breath picked up erratically.
You did your best to calm yourself down. You were just overreacting because of your nightmare.
The lights to your bedroom were turned on and you squinted harshly to adjust to the bright light.
You couldn't focus enough, not with the pounding of your head and chest, but Sam was in front of you, and you had never been so relieved to see him.
He was saying something you couldn't hear, but his soothing touch was grounding you.
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"It's okay. You're fine," he soothed.
"I-" you swallowed thickly, "I didn't mean to wake you."
Sam chuckled slightly, running his hand up and down your arm. "You wake me up every night. I know you don't want my help, or want to talk about it."
You reached for him, holding your arms out like a child, and he lifted you into his lap.
You curled your arms around his, placing your face in his neck. "I hate bothering you," you mumbled.
"You don't have to do that tough girl shit with me, Y/N. I care about you. It's not healthy to pretend like nothing happened."
You sighed. You knew that, but you preferred pushing it out of your mind. You yawned and snuggled closer to Sam's warm chest.
"This was more than a nightmare. This was a panic attack. What happened?"
"I reached for the lamp, but grabbed the metal knob on the drawer instead. I was on a metal table in my dream." You rushed to get the words out.
Sam rubbed your back, kissing your forehead. He was still aware you didn't want to talk, but he hoped you would get more comfortable with him. "We only have a few hours before we are supposed to leave. How about we lay down for a bit?"
"Sam," you pulled back. "I might have another nightmare. Why don't you just sleep in the other room? You do have to drive quite a bit."
"So sweet," Sam grinned. "I'd rather just stay with you. Do you think you're the only one with nightmares?"
You moved off his lap and he stood up.
"Wait, I thought you were staying," you said confused, scooting back to get under the blankets.
"I'm just turning off the light, baby. I thought you didn't want me to stay," he teased.
You didn't know what to say, so you waited patiently for him to return. Your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, and you were not prepared for him to jump onto the bed, barely missing you.
"Sam!" you yelled with a laugh as the mattress threatened to toss you. The headboard definitely damaged the wall.
He pulled you from the edge of the mattress and to his side. He was happy he made you laugh, successfully easing your mind before you tried to sleep again.
"Don't fall now," he laughed, fixing the blankets so you were covered once more.
You reached for him in the darkness, feeling his smooth skin.
"Hey, where did your shirt go?" you giggled, rubbing his back much like he had yours.
"Don't worry about it," he mumbled, already sounding like he was asleep. "Night."
"Night," you repeated, closing your eyes and drifting into the best sleep of your life.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Finals week and moving home kicked my butt. :) Hope you enjoyed. I'll be wrapping this up soon.
Right so i wrote this about Bucky a while ago and im not sure if i should continue it, please help me guys
there he was standing right in front of me. I hadn't seen him in what felt like 70 years and it has been. I could never forget those bright blue eyes in a million years, though these blue eyes weren't bright, they looked dull and empty. As if someone had sucked the soul out of them. I could hear a voice screaming at me only I couldn't make out what they were saying and right on cue I felt a sting in my stomach. it didn't particularly hurt. it felt more like a burning sensation.
That feeling is practically imprinted in my brain. I knew immediately what had happened. my hands unconsciously reached for my stomach. I felt my clothes dampening around the wound. when I looked down at my hands I saw the crimson red liquid slowly starting to stain my hands. a soft exhale escaped past my lips. I again heard the voice screaming out to me. only when he stopped by my side I could make out who it was.
Steve kept looking back and forth between me and the man that had fired the gun. horror and worry clearly showing on his face. when the man had run away Steve paid his full attention to me. I saw his mouth moving but couldn't make out what he was saying. he put pressure on the wound in the lower part of my abdomen when I noticed the familiar female with shoulder-length red hair.
As I looked up I vaguely saw someone flying above me with metal-looking wings. the longer I kept looking up at the sky the more tired I was getting. I could faintly make out Steve telling me to stay with us. I heard nats frantic voice saying that help was on the way. I hadn't noticed sam flying back up and searching if there was any sign of him, the man who had shot me. S.H.I.E.L.D. cars were driving right to us, which I internally debated if that was good or bad.
A/N: part two is here! I did unintentionally rush through this chapter because I am so excited to start the civil war segment of this story. feedback is welcomed, let me know how you are liking it! thank you for reading!
Bucky’s cheek stung after the third slap from Pierce, the flesh bright red and warm to the touch. He continued fighting his restraints as he had been for the past hour. He had just been wiped, HYDRA needed to start fresh. Sweat trickled from his hairline to his jugular as he yanked and squirmed in the chair.
Alexander lost his patience an hour ago, Bucky hadn’t stopped talking about the girl on the bridge, “She doesn’t love you! If she did, she would have come back for you. We’re trying to correct the world, and we need you to do that. You want to be useful, don’t you?”
Bucky stared ahead emotionless, ignoring Pierce’s words. She loved him. Her eyes told him so, the look on her face from the bridge continued to haunt him even after being reprogrammed. He knew her. She was good. She was home.
A hand came down against Bucky's face again, harder than the last, “You are an asset. She is what we are fighting against. The world deserves freedom and that is what HYDRA is doing. You don’t do your part and I can’t do mine.”
Bucky softly murmured, voice raw from screaming, “But I knew her.”
Alexander clenched his fist as he stood from his chair placed in front of Bucky, “Wipe him again.”
Soon the air was filled with Bucky’s screams again, torturous and raw. Brock Rumlow looked on in silence, taking in the sight before him. This, he could work with.
The team consisting of Florence, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Maria, and Fury were littered throughout the vacant underground room, lights dim and the air heavy with stale humidity. Steve and Sam stood while the remaining few were seated at a long conference table. Fury had documents scattered in front of him, Maria with a laptop, typing away intently.
Fury held an image of Pierce from the ’80s in his hand, “This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility.” Fury threw the picture onto the table, “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”
Natasha speaks from her chair next to her fellow redheaded friend, a solemn expression on her face, “We have to stop the launch.” Alexander was planning on using Project Insight, which consisted of three helicarriers that patrolled the Earth to eliminate threats, deployed after the Battle of New York, only this time it was being planned to be used as a way for HYDRA to eliminate any threats to themselves. The operation was now turned against them.
Fury looked at Natasha with an eyebrow raised, “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.” He flipped open a briefcase, revealing three data chips.
Behind Florence, Sam spoke with arms crossed tightly over his chest, “What’s that?”
Maria flipped her laptop around, showing the team a diagram of data, “Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized.”
“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.” Fury gestured to the case in front of him.
Maria flipped her laptop back around, “One or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die.” The entire team grimaced.
All eyes were on Fury as he spoke, “We have to assume everyone on those carriers is HYDRA. We have to get past them, insert these server blades. And maybe, just maybe we can salvage what’s left.”
Florence and Steve shared a look, Florence knew Steve wouldn’t let that happen, “We’re not salvaging anything. We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Fury snapped back at Steve, “S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with this.”
“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised. You said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.” Steve’s face was set, his entire body taking on the posture of command.
Fury gestured around the room with his hands before setting them back on the table, “Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed.”
Steve’s face remained cold, “How many paid the price before you did?” Florence read between the lines, she knew what he was asking and it felt like a punch to the gut.
Fury bowed his head as Florence looked away, “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.” No one did.
Steve scoffed, “Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? Like Florence.”
“Hey, she did what she had to. You did not go through what she did.” Florence looked to Fury with kindness in her tired eyes, silently thanking him.
Steve interrupted the tender moment, continuing his speech, “S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, it all goes.”
“He’s right. It all has to go.” All eyes darted to Maria, a silent understanding that Steve was right. This was the beginning of the end.
Fury looks around, eyes landing on Sam, “Don’t look at me.” Sam nods his head to Steve, “I do what he does, just slower.”
Steve stood at the head of the table, staring at Fury as he leaned back in his chair, “Looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”
The team was given their tasks, parting their separate ways before the mission.
Florence found Steve outside, standing on the bridge lost in thought.
Florence sided up next to him, “Hey, I know you probably hate me right now, but-”
Steve cut her off, turning to face her, “I don’t hate you. I don’t. I’m just struggling to wrap my head around the fact that he’s been alive this entire time and you haven’t told one person. Not even me.”
“Steve, I tried. After I ran, I tried to go back for him but he wouldn’t let me; told me to run and to never come back for him. So I had to go into hiding. Seventeen years Steve. It’s not like I could walk into a government building and tell them without HYDRA catching wind. Hell, I could have been walking straight back into HYDRA. You have to understand that everything I’ve done has been to protect him. Everything.” By the end of the redheads’ speech, she was choking back tears, hands trembling at her sides. She bit her lip to quell the emotions running through her.
Steve placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
Silence fell over the two friends as both reminisced on the past, staring off into space.
Florence climbed the stairs behind Bucky and Steve to Steve’s family home. The mood was somber, Florence’s black funeral dress grazing her ankles as she stepped up the last step, standing next to Bucky.
“We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.” Bucky’s tone was soft as he spoke to the heartbroken Steve.
“I know. Kinda wanted to be alone.” Steve stared at the ground as he spoke, never making eye contact with either Florence or Bucky.
Florence cocked her head to one side, gaze softly inquisitive as she looked at the small-statured man in front of her, “How was it?”
“It was okay. She’s next to dad.” The blonde’s tone was monotonous and quiet, understandably so.
Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I was gonna ask-”
Steve cut him off as he reached his front door, hands fumbling in his pocket for the key, “I know what you’re gonna say, Buck, I just-”
“You can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids. It’ll be fun, all you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash.” Bucky reached down to move a brick, grabbing the key to the door and handing it to Steve, “Come on.”
Steve took the key, finally looking him in the eye, “Thank you, Buck. But I can get by on my own.”
Florence looked to Bucky, silently telling him to comfort their friend. Bucky nodded, speaking again, “The thing is, you don’t have to.” Bucky’s large hand clapped Steve on the shoulder, “Cuz me and Florence? We’re with you till the end of the line, pal.”
The moment was broken up by Sam, approaching the two old friends, “He’s gonna be there you know.”
“We know.” Both Steve and Florence were painfully aware of that fact.
“Look, whoever he used to be and the guy he is now, I don’t think he’s the kind you save. He’s the kind you stop.”
Steve looked to Sam, “I don’t know if I can do that.” Florence knew she couldn’t. Everything she has ever done, Bucky has always crossed her mind- how to help him, save him, protect him; always concerned about his well-being. And now she was forced to go against him.
“Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn’t know either of you.” Sam twisted the knife with his last sentence, Florence and Steve grimacing at one another.
Steve spoke, looking at Florence for a last time then at Sam, “He will.” The blonde looked over the bridge, “Gear up. It’s time.”
The team changed into their gear and split up to where they were appointed: Natasha infiltrating a meeting with Alexander as a congresswoman with Fury as backup and releasing all HYDRA files, Maria preparing to order the attack to bring down the helicarriers, and Steve, Sam, and Florence to board the helicarrier to replace the targeting blades.
Sam called out to Steve as he walked away, "Wearing that?"
“No. If you’re gonna fight a war, you have to wear a uniform.”
Florence ran through the ship deck as fast as she could, doing her best to not get shot. Her earpiece kept her up to date, Natasha had just started releasing all of the files; her and Natasha’s secrets were now public along with the rest of HYDRA’s. Steve had already made it to the helicarrier, the redhead had gotten caught up with a HYDRA agent on the ground.
Florence was late to the party, Steve, and Bucky already furiously exchanging punches. She got to the top of the carrier as fast as she could with the help of Sam, her feet moving without thought. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Sam deploy his parachute after being kicked off by Bucky, now he was grounded.
Steve and Florence were on opposite ends of the carrier, Florence quickly making her way toward the two men.
Bucky threw Steve off of the top-level, Steve landing below with a thud, shield long gone in the Potomac beneath them.
Florence stared ahead, Bucky finally noticing her arrival. Both looked at the other in silence, gauging the situation at hand. His eyes were void of all emotion, this was not Bucky. The Soldier had a mission to kill her and Steve. Florence had a mission to keep Bucky alive, no matter the cost. If he was alive that meant there was hope to save him. You can’t save a dead man.
The silence was erupted by Florence, her mouth moving before her brain could stop, "Bucky, don't do this. You don't have to do this."
Tears welled up in her eyes unwillingly, the dam threatening to burst. Even if she knew deep down that he had been alive this entire time, a sliver of her always thought he was dead. Maybe her subconscious came up with that thought to protect herself, to make herself feel better about not being able to get him out. And she did try to get him out; she tried like hell. The first five years of her seventeen-year stint of being on the run was the worst. She was constantly moving locations, barely sleeping. And when she did sleep, she dreamt of Bucky- he was always screaming at her to go, save herself, and leave him behind. That was a detail that she would never tell Steve; if they even made it out alive of this situation. Steve wouldn’t understand, he was too stuck in his ways, he would have tried to get him out anyway. He would disregard any command in order to save Bucky even if the demand came straight from Bucky’s mouth. He would never truly understand why Florence did what she did. Maybe it was better that way.
He furrows his brow, lines etching themselves between his steel-blue eyes, "You're my mission."
A single breath is taken before he swings at her, metal arm glinting in the light as she dodges his punch, sweeping under his outstretched arm. She wasn't going to fight back. She couldn't.
Bucky turns violently, eyes hard, set on her. He lunges again as her weapon clatters to the ground of the helicarrier. Now Florence was defenseless. Although it's not like she was fighting back anyway. She'd let him kill her. If that kept him alive, she'd do it. It's not like he remembers her anyway, you can't mourn a person you don't remember.
She takes three steps back, her back colliding with the wall behind her as Bucky stalks forward. His breath fans across her face as he stands in front of her. She notices a stall in his motions, practically seeing his brain malfunction. His head was fighting with his heart.
A fist flies next to her head, Bucky purposely missing as he punches the wall again. His face twisted in pain, he was fighting himself. He couldn't do this. He knew her. His body knew her, pieces of memories played through his brain as he continued to punch the wall, a ring, her hand in his, dog tags being placed around her neck, all of it hurt. Florence was frozen in place as Bucky's fists continued flying next to her, "Go! You need to go!"
He remembered her.
Just as Steve ordered Maria to fire at the carrier, Bucky shoved Florence, causing her to tumble over the edge, joining Steve at the bottom of the carrier as it went up in flames. The carrier was under fire from all sides, jostling violently, causing Bucky to fall along with her. He landed away from Florence and Steve, being pinned under the debris.
Steve got to his feet, swaying as he stumbled over to Bucky who was struggling under the weight of the metal beam. Steve wedged the beam up, freeing Bucky. The girl remained on the ground, curling into a ball from the pain of the impact of the fall.
Florence rose to her feet as Steve told Bucky that he knew them. Bucky’s metal arm reeled back, punching Steve in the face as he screamed, “No I don’t!”
“Buck, we’ve known you your whole life.” Florence’s voice trembled as he hit Steve again, effectively knocking him to the ground.
Steve stood again, “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.”
Bucky punched Steve in the face for a final time, the force knocking him off the carrier and into the river below. Florence scrambled to stand in front of Bucky, making him really look at her. To truly see her, to see what he was doing. Her face was bleeding, soot smudged across her forehead, sweat mixing with tears and blood flowing down her face.
“I’m not gonna fight you. I love you.” Florence’s body shook with sobs as Bucky tackled her to the ground.
His frame towered over hers, his body heaving as he spoke, “You’re my mission.” His fist flew next to her head, once, twice; never actually hitting her. Florence could see the struggle in his eyes. He was a broken man without a home.
“You don’t love me. You left me!” Bucky’s fist continued flying next to Florence’s head, the plexiglass cracking. Pierce’s words looped in his mind, she didn’t love him. She left him. She abandoned him. She was his mission.
Florence took a heaving breath in, “Yes I do, I do love you. I tried to get you out, I did, you wouldn’t let me, I tried, I-” Bucky interrupted her by pressing his flesh hand against her throat and applying pressure.
He leaned down, only inches between their faces as he applied more pressure around her throat and choking her. He grit his teeth as he choked her harder, brunette hair dangling in his face. This was it. This was Florence’s last chance, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I love you, it’s okay.” If these were the last words Bucky would ever hear from her, she was okay with that. She needed him to know that it was okay. He was doing what he had been forced to do, it wasn’t him. She needed him to know that she understood.
The hand from her throat disappeared, Bucky leaning back above her, staring at her with glassy eyes. Florence struggled for breath as she watched Bucky process her words. Debris fell around them, Bucky hovering over her to protect her from the falling particles. A large engine fell next to them, shattering the glass and sending Florence falling straight into the Potomac, Bucky hanging onto the carrier from a beam as he watched his lover fall into the water below.
Bucky dragged Steve out of the water with his metal arm while the other balanced Florence against his shoulder, ignoring the burning pain of his flesh arm as her head rested on his neck. He placed the two unconscious Avengers on the riverbank, taking one last look at them before he disappeared, becoming a ghost yet again.
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I've seen that your requests are open, can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like.
The request is here
I'm sorry it took so long to write it, I'm going as fast as I can while studying at the same time - I twisted the request a little bit to fit the story, I hope you'll like it !!!
Summary: You’d finally decided to practice again, but need a lot of support from Bucky, who’s more than welcome to give it to you.
Warnings: I AM SO SORRY IF THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU EXPECTED, I AM WRITING THIS BETWEEN COD GAMES 🥲
It had been a few days since you’d used your powers in front of Bucky and Sam, Bucky beaming with pride. The offer of speaking with Wanda, someone who shared your struggles completely, still loomed in your head. You’d agreed, who wouldn’t? You were meeting someone you’ve looked up to since you realised your abilities, and you were nervous to say the least.
And today was the day. Bucky had gotten in touch with her, through other Avenger associates, and she’d accepted the offer quite quickly. You and Bucky spent the morning making sure your home was in tip-top shape. You worked on mopping, folding laundry, keeping Dolly off of the furniture. Whilst Bucky spent time in the barn, sweeping spilled hay, feeding the horses, and watching as they chased each other in the field.
It had gotten to late afternoon, and Bucky watched a burgundy car pull up to the entrance of the long driveway. It must be Wanda, he was sure of it. His feet jogged rather quickly up to the house, seeing you feeding Dolly.
“She’s here, doll.” He mentioned, following you to the door of your house and taking down the concealer. He was forever in awe of your gifts. Wanda stepped out of her car, a bright smile on her face as she stared at the witch before her. She was relieved there was another, just like her.
“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, holding a hand out, “nice to meet you.” Wanda brought you into a hug instead, sighing deeply at the connection. It felt like you’d known each other for years. You looked at Bucky, who shoved his thumb up, and smiled confidently.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Bucky commented awkwardly, pointing to the barn, “I’ll be with the horses.” As he disappeared, the both of you giggled and entered your home.
“You have such a lovely home,” Wanda complimented, sitting on your couch and looking around, “it must be wonderful to have a large flower garden.” You chuckled, sitting beside her with Dolly at your feet. “And this little puppy, she is just adorable.”
You didn’t know exactly how Wanda would help you, but you trusted her, and trusted she’d do a good job. As she continued to pet Dolly, you felt your nerves increase. What if you hurt her? What if you hurt somebody?
“First of all,” Wanda mentioned, “you need to be calm. All of this will be for nothing if you’re panicking.” You forgot she could read minds, something you had yet to figure out. All in due time. She turned to face you, no longer giving her attention to Dolly. She grabbed your hands lightly, as so not to hurt you.
“What do you know you’re capable of?” Wanda prodded, focusing on you entirely. “What are you in control of now?” You thought about it. Pretty much nothing, you thought. You barely knew what you were capable of. All you knew was that you could contain a bomb, killing a bunch of civilians in the process, and also throwing people into a wall.
“That’s what I’m here for, love.” Wanda encouraged. Her voice was dangerously soothing, it was impossible to be nervous around her. You had confidence in Wanda’s teaching. “How did you get your powers? How did you discover them?”
If you were honest, you could barely remember. “I was taken from my home at 14, along with my younger sister,” you began, recalling what little memories you had, “a bunch of guys experimented on girls, we were the only ones to survive. Once I’d found a safe enough place for us, I made sure she went somewhere safe. With a family.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, do you still talk to her?” She asked, grabbing one of your hands and holding it tightly. You nodded, looking down at your hands together. You wished you’d speak more to her, but you wanted her to get on with her own life. “She’s doing okay now, she’s in college, working hard.”
Hours had passed, Bucky had completely cleaned the barn. All the animals had their daily feed, the stray bits of hay were swept back into their separate areas. And he’d watched them run around the field for a while. Tired and needing both food and a nap, he’d entered the house. You were lifting random objects in the living room up, with your mind. Wanda was helping you immensely.
“Sweetheart, look at what I can do!” You called out like a child for their parent, excited at your new discoveries. You lifted the coffee table, placing it gently back down with the contortion of your fingers. Bucky stood impressed at the door to the living room, folding his arms and smirking.
“You’re definitely getting better, doll.” He mentioned, blowing you a quick kiss and heading upstairs for a shower. You’d done a few more exercises with Wanda, Bucky overseeing a few after his shower. Until Wanda had to leave. You were busy lifting random things up, too excited to notice Bucky walking Wanda out to her car.
“Thanks for the help,” Bucky commented, “she really needed it.” Wanda nodded, glad she could be of service. As she turned her car around, the window had rolled down to see Bucky’s face once more.
“Just be patient with her. Encourage her. She’s been through a lot, and time is the best way to help.” Bucky nodded at her wise words and let her drive off, turning back to his beautiful home and beautiful wife.
You were laying on the couch, lazily, smiling at Bucky as he entered in. He lifted your legs and sat under them, letting them fall into his lap. You were exhausted, to say the least, after your busy day. You’d learnt so many things and used so much energy to practice.
“Okay,” Bucky stated, “what takeaway am I thinking of for dinner tonight?” He was testing your skills, watching your brain turn.
“Chinese.” He smiled cheekily and nodded, grabbing his phone and the order menu that sat beside the couch. Bucky was proud of you, it had taken a lot of strength to get through today alone. And although he doesn’t know how you got your powers or what you went through to get them, you’d tell him eventually. He was more than ready to be patient with you. He’d learnt patience from you — when you said you weren’t yet ready to have kids, he was okay with that. He’d continue to wait for you, no matter how long it takes.
just watched kindergarten cop and immediately imagined an episode of falcon and the winter soldier where the duo go undercover at an elementary school to protect a mom and her son from a crazy criminal