Summary: Y/N is left in a hotel room and is not happy about it
Warnings: Language, Y/N yells at Bucky (yes this needs a warning cuz she's scary as fuck when she's mad), TFATWS spoilers
A/N: i just wrote this today and i think this is my favorite chapter
Y/N discovered very quickly that when rescuing your ex-vigilante friend from jail, you needed to pack a bag of clothes. Thank god she had forgotten her passport in her car after her trip to Mexico with friends.
Sam and Bucky were not happy that Raynor insisted on Y/N going with them. When Raynor told her to keep an eye on Bucky, she thought she was just teasing, not actually being serious. After Raynor threatened to report suspicious activity to those in charge of handling Bucky’s case, Sam felt no other choice but to drag Y/N along.
Even after Bucky said to just let the government come after him again. He knew Raynor had given him an empty threat, but Sam wasn’t taking any chances.
So here Y/N was, wrapped in the white, soft sheets of a bed in a hotel room in Germany. Sam and Bucky had snuck out earlier, leaving Y/N alone in the hotel room. How did she know? Sam kindly left a note for her, basically telling her that they’d be back later and to just stay in the hotel room. Sam had also mentioned that Bucky surveyed all entrances and exits to ensure no one was getting in and out. With the note was a plate of breakfast (that was still warm, so she had just missed them) and a bottle of water. With breakfast being the only meal they left for her, she assumed that they would be back around noon. The time as of a few minutes ago was 10:57 A.M., so she didn’t think they would be much longer.
Y/n huffed out a breath as she stared up at the popcorn ceiling of the hotel room. She had absolutely no clue where Bucky and Sam could be and that made her anxious. She also couldn’t believe that they left her alone in a hotel in Berlin, Germany. Not to mention, locked, as well. She found herself counting the white kernels of the popcorn ceiling. She recalled reading an article that these ceilings contain asbestos, which was odd considering how nice this hotel was.
She also found it odd that on a secret mission, Sam chose to stay in a nice hotel. She wasn’t really complaining about that though. The shower had plenty of hot water and the bed she slept on felt like heaven.
Y/N felt her eyelids give out. Counting these kernels was exhausting. Her back was well supported by the mattress, which made her lull even more into a sleepy trance. She was tired and bored. She had tried to walk around the hotel room earlier, even put on her favorite Beatles song to dance to. But she just wasn’t feeling it. Which was weird for her, because that song always made her dance. She even tried some 80s songs, but even those groovy beats couldn’t make her tap her foot on the carpet, even if she was held at gunpoint.
Y/N slipped deeper into her slumber. Her body relaxed, the wrinkles between her brows unfurrowed. Sleep, she told herself.
However, her relaxation was cut short. The sound of someone banging their fist against the door caused Y/N to jump right up from the bed. With eyes widened and her heart hammering out of her chest, her mind came to one thing only.
Sam and Bucky were found out and someone was now coming to get her.
She turned her head over the porcelain door, pounding still coming from the outside. Voices were behind the door, but she couldn’t make it out what they were saying, let alone who it was. Anxiety filled her chest, constricting her lungs and squeezing her heart with a fist. She searched around the room for a weapon. There was nothing portable enough to use. The T.V. was too big, the dressers wouldn’t do any good. She had no clue where the remote was. She searched around the room desperately, trying to find something, anything. Her eyes landed on her dirty breakfast plate.
Would a plate really protect you in an intruder situation? Y/N really didn’t know, but she was about to find out.
The door handle jiggled. “Fuck,” Y/N mumbled to herself, looking for yet another thing. This time, a place to hide and attack her intruder. Of course, it was near the door, her impending doom, but Y/N quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, not fully, of course, but just enough to let a sliver of light into the bathroom.
She heard the click of the door unlocking, making her breath hitch in her throat. She heard the door creak open. A soft footfall entered the room, the carpet softening the intruder’s boots. She still listened closely. She had counted a total of three pairs of footsteps, all small, quiet and succinct.
A girl with a fucking breakfast plate versus three intruders. This was going to be great on her tombstone.
As soon as she saw the outline of a person, she attacked, a small war cry escaping her throat. She lunged out of the bathroom, porcelain plate raised high above her head, ready to smash it into the intruder’s head. Unfortunately for her, her intruder was fast. Very fast. Before she knew it, her intruder spun around and immediately grabbed her raised arm, keeping it at bay from smashing the plate into their head.
“Y/N, hey, hey, it’s me!” The voice exclaimed, causing Y/N to open her eyes. She didn’t even know that she closed them. Her eyes met Bucky’s terrified expression, causing her panic-stricken face to relax. Her chest was heaving, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Bucky still had her plate-hand above her head.
She gritted her teeth and knocked him square in the chest with her spare arm. “You dick!” She yelled, the furrow back between her brows. Her anger must’ve really driven her punch because Bucky stumbled back a bit, dropping her arm from his grasp. “You take me to fucking Germany and leave me by myself in a hotel room, without telling me?” Y/N was just angry now and she had every right to be.
Bucky’s eyes softened. “But Sam left you a note.” Bucky replied, trying his best to defend himself. “That doesn’t make anything better!” She yelled back. “Where the fuck could you guys have gone anyway?” She huffed out, crossing her arms and looking over to Sam for an answer.
Sam moved himself out of the way to a man in a long fluffy coat. Y/N felt her eyes widen. In anger or shock? She couldn’t tell you.
She looked back over to Bucky, mouth agape, brows furrowed in confusion. “The guy who framed you for killing T’Chaka? Are you fucking serious?” Y/N felt herself getting even more angry with Bucky by the second. She turned over to Sam, who looked very nervous. “And you,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just went along with it? You guys helped break a criminal mastermind out of a high-security German prison?” She motioned over to Zemo, who just looked awkwardly between Bucky and Sam.
“Technically we didn’t break him out, he broke out himself-”
“It doesn’t matter! We’re now harboring a fugitive!”
“If I may?” Zemo said, lifting his hand up, asking permission from Y/N to speak.
“No!” She yelled, her teeth almost bared at him.
She was now livid. She couldn’t believe it. It was one thing to accompany Bucky on this mission, but it was another that he was helping a well-known criminal, which she definitely knew was against his terms and conditions with the United States.
Bucky sighed. “We need his help, Y/N.” She met Bucky’s pleading eyes. “With what?” She asked, stepping towards him, challenging him almost. “You never even explained to me why we’re here in the first place.”
“Those Flag Smashers you’ve heard about on the news,” Sam spoke up, saving Bucky from explaining it to her. “We fought them a few days ago, and they were super strong. Bucky-strong.” Y/N gulped.
“Super soldiers?” She asked, receiving nods from both Bucky and Sam. She sighed, “And I’m guessing he’s the expert on super-soldiers? Some special intell?” She asked. Bucky nodded again. Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. She was in too deep now. She finally understood why Bucky didn’t want her to accompany them on the mission in the first place. It was too dangerous. Too messy. Too much. Too much for someone like her to process.
“Give me five minutes and we’ll be on our way then.”
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello to all beautiful people! Happy pride month my lovelies!!! This has been in my head, forever and I couldn't get past it. Every time I wanted to write something else, this was right there to remind me...
This is the first part. The second one is being written right now.
Warnings: My English. Everyone is alive, just cuz.
Word Count~ 9k+
Summary: It would turn out to be the most difficult thing you had ever done, but you didn’t know that. Your heart would break into many pieces, nowhere to be found, but you didn't know that. Not one moment of your life had remotely prepared you for what was about to come. You were told it was a simple and easy mission. You were reassured everything would be alright because there was no chance whatsoever to fail – it was considered to be an effortless, straightforward mission. After all, how hard could it be – it was just one file, go in, grab it, get the hell out and return home safely and fast. Unfortunately, no one had ever informed you about the circumstances under which you would have to act. Because playing a part was easy, playing people…that was another story completely. SPOILER WARNING - Time travel kinda fic!
Part I – Oblivion.
It was one of the few moments of serenity everyone would enjoy, partly because they were so rare. No wars to be fought, no worries to be dealt with, no missions to be completed. That to the Avengers meant sleep and training, while to you meant more babysitting than usual. Fury had appointed you and trusted you enough to report back to him, anything out of the ordinary. Your job had gotten pretty boring, pretty fast – most of them were never around, anyway. Days like this one, however, were testing your patience – and loyalty.
Even though he did not appreciate your calculating eye, at first, Tony was more than happy to give you your own room and enough freedom to run around the tower as if it was your own home. Well, after a certain point, it became your home, since you moved your things out of the rented apartment; you weren’t spending any time there, anyways. You usually stayed within your boundaries and only recorded anything really off, because soon enough you learned that they were a quirky bunch of people, getting closer as the years rolled by, even fighting like a family would.
Natasha called you a friend, and that was one of the highest honors achieved. Tony would let you play with his tools even though you had absolutely no idea what most of them did and Steve had offered to train you. Come to think of it, thank God he did. Wanda and Pietro, really felt like the siblings you never had, although Pietro was a flirtatious little shit. Vision was the wise uncle and Thor, when he happened to pop by, was a literal God. Bruce was always so timid and flustered by Natasha.
But then a stranger came in. Just when you had decided that you would never find the courage to ask Steve out, someone else invaded your space like nothing you had ever experienced before; and he was never really close to you, physically.
You only caught glimpses, bits, and pieces of that man, at first. You knew that Tony did not trust him at all and that Steve trusted him enough for the both of them. You knew he had a metal arm and he was called “Winter Soldier” by Tony, but Nat and Steve called him Bucky. Wanda seemed interested because for once she could not read a mind. At that, you called Fury and he was as cryptic as ever, only informing you to stay on your feet. Your gut was nudging you to do your own research but at the same time, why bother when the research material was few doors away?
You did find out about everything, eventually, mainly because you kept asking everyone up to the point that drove them insane. Once you saw his face, you knew why they were keeping him low-key monitored 24/7. He was accused of many things, that was without a question. You were watching at the live footage of the camera keeping an eye on him and you could swear that he looked straight through the lenses and burnt your face. The thing was… no one was trying to keep you away but he never wanted to get close to you or even greet you. You entered a room, he found another exit. At first, you didn’t think much of it. A person with a shitload of trauma couldn’t socialize… big whoops. But then, it started getting weirder each day.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have paid that much attention, if it wasn’t for Steve apologizing for his behavior only to you. Steve seemed off as well. It was a strange vibe that other times was so ever-present and others… you couldn’t even remember what you were worrying about. It had flooded your mind when you first met him, but again, didn’t think much of it. You were too busy gawking at him to really care about your intuition. And then, once you got used to him being well… him, the same feeling nudged you again sporadically. This was one of those times. You wanted to ask him what was the big deal but you never did.
You shook your head and walked down the aisle towards the kitchen. It was rather late for you but insomnia had taken over again, leaving you a not-so-hot of a mess. Your head was definitely not on your shoulders; you preferred dreaming wide awake, as if in a trance, all those scenarios in your head, wondering what if one of them came true…
You weren’t sure why you ended up in the kitchen, in the first place; your feet had carried you without your permission. You exhaled rather loudly while massaging your temples, eyes shut. Opening them was probably a mistake. You came face to face with blue eyes with a silver tone. Your heartbeat would have picked up if it wasn’t for the exhaustion.
“Hi” you simply offered and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and all but ran away.
“Bye” you said loud enough for the entire tower to listen to you, but your patience had reached its limit. You rolled your eyes at your tactics and his attitude and grabbed a bottle of rosé wine, walking back to your room. Why not the roof, you thought, and up you went.
“I never told you to be besties with her, nut-head. But that’s rude. Even for you” you heard Tony reprimanding someone and your stomach was already in a not. You froze, trying to catch everything you could hear.
“Says you!” Natasha exclaimed, defending…him? It didn’t make sense.
“Stop it. I mean, do you even know if she is loyal to you or someone else?” he questioned but surprisingly enough it wasn’t Steve or Natasha – the two people you thought of as friends – who defended you but Tony.
“Bullshit. You better fix this Rogers. Now” he coldly demanded and exited. Thankfully, the room had another exit and so he didn’t catch you. Not that he couldn't figure it out if he wanted to. You anticipated someone to prove him wrong but no such thing ever happened. However, Natasha said something that kept bothering you for the longest time.
“We both know that’s not why you are shit to her… and you, a coward”. You didn’t sit around for more bickering. Wine down we go, you thought.
“Good morning sunshine” Tony yelled at you, making you wince in pain. You had pulled yourself together and went for “work” – replacing Pepper while she was running the company. So, you did everything Tony threw at you. He was quite the mentor if you were honest. But times like this one really did push your buttons. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked at him and Steve.
“Hello, obnoxiously loud for your height person” you specifically choose not to include Steve, something he noticed as he arched his eyebrow. Tony caught on pretty fast but instead of staying out of it, he jumped right in.
“Who got your knickers in a twist? No! Don’t tell me! Captain Virgin?” he exclaimed right when Bucky was passing by, making you groan in frustration and facepalm. Steve turned red but kept his composure while his best friend was in shock. Tony seemed rather unphased by the scene. You tried to hand him a file but he raised his hands.
“I don’t like to be handed stuff” he said as if it was the single most mundane thing to say. You looked at him dead in the eye and got up from your seat.
“And I don’t like that I have to put up with everyone’s bullshit. But you don’t see me going like this every time one of you acts like a 5-year-old now, do you?” you said without breathing and slammed the file on the counter, in front of him, leaving the three men in awe and a bit worried.
You started walking away when Steve called for you and made you turn on your heels, approaching him like a shark was approaching its victim. He needed to know that he had hurt you.
“Come on, don’t – ”
“No, no. When you realize that I have been here even before you came along, and start treating me with respect, then I will come back. Until then, good luck sorting out your loyalties – because you should already know mine” you deadpanned and shot Bucky a poisonous glare. For a second there, you saw guilt and pain but you turned around before that second became more.
You stormed out of the tower and walked aimlessly, without really knowing where you went. You walked by the Empire State Building and your feet carried you towards Brooklyn, without you even noticing it. Hangover at its best but you tried to walk it off along with your anger. You passed a couple of coffee shops before you decided to enter one. The ornate facade and all-wood interior, with a dash of stained glass, and its extremely low-key vibe, transported you to an earlier era. It also helped that it was tucked on a street corner in Boerum Hill surrounded by handsome brick townhouses.
Although it had basically the vibes of a bar, it felt familiar and even… comfortable to you. It was called Brooklyn Inn and you had never seen anything online for it. It felt old and vintage but it was so welcoming to you as if you belonged there. You hadn’t planned on staying there but you found a seat by the bar and had the intention of ordering a coffee but you remembered why you run away and instead you ordered a glass of Malbec.
The wine was exquisite; rich, dark, and full-bodied with hints of black cherry, vanilla, and sweet tobacco. You were informed that it started with grapes from France but ended up being produced in Argentina and that the glass you were holding was indeed, French. You found comfort in that and it perplexed you. Your eyes traveled around, looking at all the different people in the pub and how many more would have had their drink here… until your gaze fell on him. You had no idea how to feel or even express that. But how did he find you? He approached you, a bit reserved but not too much. It felt that it was his idea to find you – or at least, you hoped to. You were a sucker for those people… brooding, traumatized and devilishly handsome. He sat down next to you, and you got the feeling that he had done that more times than you could count; it felt natural. Almost everything felt just the way they were supposed to.
When the bartender came to take his order, he greeted him and even held a small talk, which meant two things. Bucky was
capable of talking, just not to you and secondly, he came to this place, quite often too, if you were to judge by the friendliness and the fact that the guy knew what the “usual” meant. He was fucking dushing, you noticed.
“And one more glass of Malbec for the lady” he added right after, leaving you confused as fuck but surprised in a good way, too. You just sat there, looking at your glass, not daring to disturb whatever universe you had entered.
“I am sorry for being a jerk to you” he confessed while the drinks were served. You thanked the bartender and took a sip.
“Try looking at me when you apologize” you softly mused and you noticed a side smile forming on his lips, one that he quickly dropped. To your surprise, he did. And you found yourself captivated by his eyes.
“I am sorry, doll” his mouth betrayed him and your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He quickly apologized again and remained silent. You felt so awkward that you let out an airy laugh. It might not have been for you in particular but getting to be called doll but the one James Barnes was on your bucket list. The man in front of you was an infamous flirt back in the day – that much you knew from Steve, when he actually talked to you.
“S’ okay… Sergeant” you commented with an eyebrow slightly arched. He actually blushed at that and you felt very proud. You put down your glass and turned towards him.
“But why? Why were you a jerk? No offense” you quickly added, hoping to get an answer this time. He cleared his throat and adjusted his body as well. You could literally see his brain malfunctioning.
“It’s just that… I don’t know and I am not big on trusting strangers” he said but you didn’t believe it. If he didn’t know you, he could have asked. If he truly didn’t know you, he wouldn’t know where to find you – alright, maybe that was a coincidence, but what about your drink?
“Bullshit” you softly challenged him while looking at him dead in the eye but smiled nonetheless and dropped it. You sat there for a while, enjoying the vibe and the drinks until you took your wallet out to pay and leave. You weren’t sure if it was his manners kicked in, or if it was a force of habit but he stopped you…in a very physical way. He touched your hand and pushed it back – you weren’t even sure he realized it.
“Thank you, but I can pay for my drinks” you said steadily. He gave you a funny look and placed 30 dollar-bill under the receipt.
“I know” he simply commented and he gave you his hand to help you out of your stool. Yeah, you had entered another dimension. Exactly because you were so unprepared for all of it, really, you just complied. And the touch was pushing you further down a slippery slope. He even held the door open for you. “Wait, wait. Why are you being so nice?” you suddenly asked him, making him smile in question.
“Can’t I just be sorry for my attitude?” he questioned. You were about to say no but… oh, well.
“You’re going to poison me? Have you spiked my drink?” you kept asking and he let out a small laugh. He declined every accusation with a ‘nope’. You ended up walking around Brooklyn with him and you didn’t even notice. He was silent for the most part but that didn’t bother you, as you simply let your mind and eyes travel as far as they wanted. Brooklyn was the heart of the entire New York City. It was so oddly familiar to you, even though you hadn’t lived that long there.
“So… you and Steve… he tells me you are close” he tried to make small talk. It took you by surprise the fact that they had talked about you. You thought about the statement for a bit.
“Sure. I mean, obviously, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s a good friend” you answered truthfully. He was a very good friend. He was there for you since you met him. Come to think of it, he and Bucky acted exactly alike. Mmm, not exactly, but they both avoided you in the beginning, and then everything was perfect. He too, wouldn’t talk to you, although he did talk to you, just not… in an elaborated way. More like in
the ‘I see you here every day and I have to be polite’ way.
“Oh” it was all he said. The conversation, if one could call it that, died down after that. And it was getting late. You had to return to your job and have a talk with Tony to get him to cooperate and sign the damn contracts he initiated. “This was lovely, weirdly enough. But I do have to get back” you soothed. It was the strangest day for you. Or so you thought. He, on the other hand, had no intention of going back so early.
“Have ever been to Coney Island?” he blurted out, leaving you dumbfounded. You blinked a couple of times before answering.
“No, I don’t think I have” you told him as you crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He slightly frowned but you really didn’t understand why.
“If you need a guide, I am available” he offered while he took a step back. You really didn't know what to think.
“Brooklyn born and bred, huh?” you joke but he took pride in that. Why wouldn't he, you thought.
“Yes ma'am” he confirmed and left you wondering what the hell just happened.
“I should go. Thank you for... the normality” you waved goodbye. He lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Without another word, you took your separate paths.
You were thinking about how people were constantly moving at quantum speeds, in their minds, in their work, building patterns and seeing past through their everyday lives. Having this socially constructive mentality that they needed to be productive to be seen as equals to their peers. Constantly in motion, to be more and criticizing their imperfections. It felt like a constant need to keep striving forward, but they would eventually lose focus on their true essence, on what their really needed. So caught up in thinking about who they were going to be that they didn’t even recognize who they were right now.
You caught yourself being one of those people and tried to find stillness in your lives, moments of silence, to come back within, to allow the rest of the world to keep moving forward, to see new objectives intuitively flowing through.
The sky was so soft, you felt that it would melt if you touched it. The darkest blue was stained with little balls of color. You wished that you could see the night sky at its glory, without the lights and pollution to destroy the magic. Your room didn’t have the best of views, anyway. You gave up trying to imagine how different the velvet canvas would have looked seventy years ago, and strolled around the compound. Everything was still and serene as if no one was even breathing. You always felt torn between big crowds and solitude, being with company and being alone, living in a big city and leaving everything behind.
He was such a fucking contradiction. He was flirtatious, charming, and romantic, but also introverted and emotional. You could never really know because of how adaptable and changeable he was. You understood his mood swings better than anyone, but it was hard even for you, to keep up with the stream of emotions that never slowed down.
He was someone whose identity had been obliterated by pain—a pain that had destroyed almost every last vestige of his personhood. It was for this reason that he almost never spoke, you thought. He was still fighting whatever HYDRA did to him. You thought of the reoccurring presence of a piercing, metallic scream—a scream that was positively visceral, expressive of a tremendous amount of pain, panic, and fear. Brutal and brutalizing, that noise playing in his head over and over again, impacted him on a palpable, instinctive, organic level, giving sonic form to the blank, numbness inside the Winter Soldier’s mind. He was trying to fight it and you could see that. The demons were still inside, though.
Steve had told you that Bucky was one of the few people that actually recognized what it was that made him good, before his transformation into Captain America. has been made of the fact that Bucky Barnes is one of the few people to recognize the greatness in Steve Rogers before his transformation into Captain America. You saw the way he believed in Steve, too. But you wanted to yell at him that, yes, Steve was great but so was he. He didn’t believe he could achieve that kind of greatness but he didn’t mind, he had plenty of time to come to terms with it, as he had revealed once, a very unholy hour.
And that was exactly what made him great; his selflessness, his choice of friendship instead of jealousy. You were watching him again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watched him and observe the way his hair had grown the last few weeks and how some strands were falling down to his eyes. He brushed them away, harshly, and you wondered how these bruised hands would feel on your skin. His skin glistened warmly like desert sand when the sun caressed him.
You watched bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or was it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It was your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse. This time, he was watching you too. His eyes were blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug
blue that broke through the purple sky like a whispered sunset. Bucky was watching you and he had no intention of averting his eyes and you felt your blood freezing inside your veins. It was a bitter realization of how much power that man held over you. Your body shivered.
You couldn’t prevent it anymore; your eyes were drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotized you over and over again and you were terrified by the light but you were more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. You blinked. You sit there, frozen in time, while everyone else became witness of the silent conversation between the two of you, but you had a hard time understanding if it was your heart that hammered beneath your ribcage or if it had stopped.
You were dreaming again. You were daydreaming that there was a gap between reality and something like blood was sticking between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you didn’t mind because his hands were on your neck, on your face, in your hair – “do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still” - and you were, you were still, you were quiet when he dragged you over to the wall and pushed his knee between your legs and you wanted this, wanted him and his fingers dug painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he held you still, so still you couldn’t move and it hurt…
You shook your head. Your mind was playing with you, mocking your naivety. He was watching but he was only watching, as were you – from afar. Never once getting closer than that.
“Are you okay?” a worried whisper, violently shook you out of your dream. It felt so real; his touch burnt marks and you could swear you knew how they felt.
“Yes” you said as in a trance. Steve didn’t believe you. He knew that answer, he used that answer. He looked at you concerned but you looked at the other man walking behind him, not really paying attention to anything he said. You often wondered if he was able to just… read your mind. It was easy, too easy, to fall for him. He was tender and familiar. He understood so much of his surroundings and experienced deeper than anyone you had known. But you wished you knew if he truly felt – it seemed easier to be numb.
Steve arched an eyebrow and gave you the look, which was actually wasted since you weren’t looking at him. Bucky saw you and didn’t turn away, instead he looked right back at you.
“I have to go” you blurted out and left as fast as your legs could carry you.
“What about Nat?” you heard Steve asking and you swallowed your heart. “It’s different” Bucky simply answered. You stopped breathing so you wouldn’t miss a word.
“How? They are both from your past” Steve offered but your head couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“That’s not true and we both know it” he replied and silence took over. You had taken one step when a response was out there, for you to deal with it.
“Of course, I know. But she doesn’t know and we cannot tell her”.
Days and nights passed by in an everlasting circle. Minutes turned into months and your life moved on. You never asked what was the big secret; you took what they gave you and cherished it. You never lied about anything, you were always there and somehow, you had gained Bucky’s trust. He confided in you, he laughed around you without worrying about what people might think, as did Steve. But they never said a word. You had caught some other weird comments as well but you brushed them off. They would tell you when and if they felt comfortable. You had a pretty vague idea about it and you tested it more than once but never crossed a line.
Little things like small comments about their past, questions asked but never answered, words that didn’t correspond with today… you didn’t really know what to think but you started realizing that something was going on… since before you met them. Maybe they knew a girl with strong opinions and quick temper back in the day and they were projecting. Maybe, they just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Who could blame them?
Bucky was on the cold tiles of his bathroom and was pressing his hands flat down until the chill crawled up in his bones. He felt burnt and touched and scorched in all the places that he thought had healed a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, the water tap was dripping in tandem with his heart. Drop, drop, drop, your name was spelled…
You had just entered his room, waiting to find him looking outside the window. Instead, you heard the ragged breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw crime scenes. A marketplace in the afternoon glow. Orange lights switching to red. Honking cars. His lifeless eyes fixed on his target. And the scene always ended with a twist – his target was no longer the bold man; he was no longer the Winter Soldier, it was no longer the present, you were no longer safe.
Drop, drop, drop. Bucky opened his eyes when the sun had long died on the horizon. One of his hands was resting on the tiles – the other wasn’t his. He felt like an emergency. But you kneeled down and sat next to him, with both of your hands on the tiled floor. He remembered a scene that had yet to happen. He wanted it to.
“Tell me you need me”, he said and his lips were shivering against your sunburned skin, “tell me you need me, tell me you can’t fucking breathe without the scent of my cologne or the taste of my skin under your tongue. Tell me”, he said and he was frantic, almost wild in his eyes, “tell me you want me. Tell me you want me so much that it fucking burns inside of you. Tell me you’re not ashamed”, and this time the man was almost begging with his hands roaming all over your face and his eyes blinded from the dying sun, “tell me you love me, please, tell me that all the flesh I burn and all the blood I swallow underwater is worth it. Tell me you won’t leave me”, he whispered and something tasted acid like bile and salty like tears in the back of your throat and the air was unusually hot, and each of his words left knife marks between the hollows of your ribs.
“Tell me this isn’t all in my head”, the man finally broke out and covered himself with your body like a blanket made of waves and you kissed his eyelids and watched as the skin under your lips melted to ashes.
“It’s too cold for you” he croaked and you chuckled. You shook your head, and you knew that even in the dead of the night he could see it.
“You’re not too cold for me” you reassured his not spoken worry. He was terrified and you only got a glimpse. Fridays were supposed to be movie nights – the guys educating you in old cinema – but you didn’t mind at all the scene you were witnessing. You slowly approached him and even more reservedly you offered your hand in a kind gesture – he could pick himself up, physically, but sometimes that was not enough. He touched you, grabbing onto your hand for dear life. The lights were off inside his room. He didn’t turn them on and you respected that decision.
It was late; again. In any other scenario, you would consider this romantic but his fragile state made you scared and angry at the people who bent him backward. He sat on his bed and you didn’t dare move from his side. He had been careful enough to hide this part away from you, to hide the panic attacks that came with it, the nightmares, the voices. You sat there in absolute silence until you moved your hand to touch his metal arm. He looked at you as if you were insane – because he was afraid of himself enough for the both of you.
“I’m scared of the darkness inside of me. It is growing, day by day, and I fear the day it consumes me. You called me a hero when we first met, Steve told me… but I feel like I have been the villain all along” he found himself confessing and you had no idea what hit you. You had seen him down, sad even angry but never so… broken. Ready to give up everything.
“I called a hero because no one else would be standing here, sitting next to me, talking about their trauma. I called a hero, not because heroes are pure light – no, because every single one of them is trying to fight the demons inside. Because, you have walked through the gates of hell, into the firepits, and survived to see… not the pearly gates but this mediocre existence, full of mundane little things” you admitted without even realizing what was the very essence of your words.
“I tried to unlearn how to hold the guns and the knives the way they taught me. I tried to unbury myself from all those corpses of people they put above me. I tried to erase them from my system. With scissors and razor blades and butcher knives and broken shards of a mirror. I don’t want to be killed twice” he winced at the thought and you acted out of instinct, cupping his face with your hands and looking deep into his eyes, to see where those demons were hiding and obliterate them any way you could. He was taken aback but didn’t move.
“Do I scare you?” he asked in a small voice, too afraid to destroy the stillness of the moment.
“You could never”.
He lied sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like autumn. You wanted to drown in it.
His hand was in your hand and your hand was in his and his lips were on yours and your lips were on his and his fingers touched your skin and yours touched his shoulders and-
You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. It felt so… right. So real. You could almost touch him and sense his warmth but something was off. In your dream, he was younger, careless, carefree…and you never felt the metal of his arm.
You had made a promise of never falling asleep when he was around because even if it felt so damn right, you never wanted to make him uncomfortable. However, seeing him sleeping so peacefully took some of the guilt off of your shoulders.
He was serene, almost resembling the disoriented dream of yours. Softer, mellow, and not tormented by those demons that hunted him each waking moment. You tried your best not to touch him and slipped under the bedding, still very much able to understand just how much heat he was radiating, making you fall asleep again. Easily.
There was half a carton of milk leftover from breakfast on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight from the carton. He scowled at you and took a glass from one of his cupboards. His hand reached out, but stopped. You waited for the touch to burn you. It didn’t.
“Darlin’, we do have glasses” he mocked you but his hand cupped your face, lips inches apart, when he moved away with a wicked smile.
“Fucking sadist” you whispered and tugged him closer for a quick kiss. He smiled, lethally blinding. The only thing that mattered was him; the kitchen disappeared from view and you shut your eyes closed, getting lost in the moment.
You never talked about your dream to anyone. Even Wanda was forbidden from snooping around there. At least you hoped she didn’t. They were all the more vivid and you thought that you were either falling even harder or you were wishing for something that could never happen in your line of work. You had stopped reporting to Fury – and he knew. You had practically been adopted as the rookie who would help around and on missions but your skills were more intellectual than physical. Now, you could kill, you could fight, maybe not as well as Natasha or Steve but you preferred not to.
Bucky preferred you not to be anywhere near but it wasn’t his choice, after all. He had grown closer, almost attached to your hip but not exactly. There was something missing, something that didn’t exactly fit but you shook it off, as you had done with Steve, and moved on.
Today was one of those effortless days; no worries whatsoever. Tony was insisting on preparing brunch, but him being … him, you all ended up eating a makeshift breakfast. You had been seated on a high stool as you spotted the half-empty carton of juice on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight out of the carton. And then everything was in slow motion, everything was familiar. He rolled his eyes and scowled you, as he took a glass from one of the cupboards. He poured the leftover juice into it and with a mocking smile, handed it to you. But you were too frozen to do anything but look at him, eyes wide open and mind shut.
“What? We do have glasses here” he told you in a funny way as if he had no idea what just happened. The man in front of you was the same fucking person in the same fucking context. But how could that be? Were you predicting the future? Or… had you lived that before?
You took too much time to answer, or even react in a way that they grew worried. But you didn’t know how to reassure them that you were okay because you weren’t. Your mind was playing tricks, one moment you were standing in the tower’s kitchen and the next you were on a stool in a vintage kitchen, small and cozy, with just one man. And then back to now. You tried to hide your face in the obnoxiously big cup of tea you had in front of you, which did not go unnoticed but you just couldn’t cope.
You were wondering whether or not should you respond the way you remembered you had, in your dream, or just let it pass. After a while, you knew Wanda was going to scoop and that why you warned her, quite loudly too. Please, don’t. Don’t. You knew she heard your thought clear as day because her eyes popped and blushed slightly, leaving Pietro wondering what had happened. You let it slide for now and kept your posture while everyone else was having a rather good time.
The whole thing wasn’t dying down any time soon but you needed air to breathe and space to exist. But you also needed an exit strategy. Or rather… a line. You stood up, thanked Tony but not really, and said you were going to start working for a living, meaning you were about to play around in Tony’s lab. No one found anything suspicious. While walking behind Bucky, you slightly leaned in and whispered that line.
“Fucking sadist”. His eyes shot up and his head snapped at you. He recognized it, and you were more than assured that this had happened again. But how, you didn’t know. For now, you were content knowing that at some point in this world, at some distant reality, you had felt his lips on yours. You would come back for answers but for now, you just went out to get a proper coffee. No Avengers.
Lately, you had been feeling rather off, out of touch with reality but you didn’t mind that much. Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming about images that had flashed before your mind when you were asleep, while others you were just thinking about him. It was just him. Every day, all day.
“Don’t make me use Wanda” Tony warned you out of the blue, startling you and making you look up, avoiding his gaze. He rolled his eyes so hard that you were afraid they were going to get stuck.
“You wouldn’t” you fired back, very much assured that he would not even think about it… but he surprised you.
“Well, it’s not like I need her powers to understand that you have been crushing on Barnes” he outed you without even worrying about people actually listening. You wanted to shush him but that would put you in a difficult position.
“Tony… please don’t” you simply asked of him. It was the first time you saw him worried and perplexed, at a loss of words. But then, corking an eyebrow, he just dropped his job and came to sit next to you. It was his lab, you couldn’t say no.
“Listen, you know that I am not particularly fond of his company – ”
“Tony, you hate the guy” you cut him off, making him arch his eyebrow again in agreement. You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“All I want to say is be careful” he concluded and made you realize that he did care about his team; well, not everyone, but for the most part, he did.
“Thank you, Tony, but let’s be realistic… I am never going to make a move, and I don’t think he is interested in making one either” you summed up what you had gathered. Tony seemed to disagree with your statement, shaking his head but not saying a word, which was suspicious.
“What? Do you know something?” you pushed further but he just got up and went back to his job.
“Not everything is what it seems, honey” he cynically quoted and left you with a gazillion questions, which he wasn’t going to answer. You knew that he knew something and that Steve knew too. Maybe Natasha, but you weren’t sure, Wanda probably, since she can pretty much-read minds, and therefore Vision as well. Clint had a family, Pietro had god knows how many girls, Thor was in Asgard and Bruce was falling for Natasha. Sam and Rhodey were placing bets for all of you. They all had their own problems to be invested in your non-existent love life.
All it took was a mission gone wrong and Fury was breathing down your neck each day and each night, demanding you report to him every single detail. Which you didn’t. Not everything. Why would it matter that you spent most nights sleeping next to Bucky because it had become a thing after having heard him suffering and barging in without second thought? Why would it matter that you never left that night or any night after that? Why would it matter that he had opened up about his past, slowly revealing all those details that you, somehow, already knew? Why would it matter that Steve was trying to warn his best friend that this was a bad idea and upon confronting him, he went silent and couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Why would it matter to Fury that you had been having all those dreams that seemed so real, vivid, and true to be just that? Why would it matter that you had a beautiful friendship with Wanda and Pietro? Why would it matter that Thor was hitting on you, ever so discretely, but permanent enough to make Bucky jealous? At least you thought he was… or rather, hoped. You really didn’t understand what difference it would make… Maybe if you had been completely honest with Fury, he would never have given you the solo mission. Perhaps, it would have been for the best. Probably not.
Tony was watching you like a hawk, whenever Bucky was in the same room but even he had to admit that whenever you were around he was more of a puppy than an attack dog, and he kind of appreciated that. Deep down, he knew that you and Steve were right about him but his pride and grief didn’t let him say it in so many words. He showed it by calling him by his name, joking with him, and even sitting next to him. Bucky was grateful for every single chance he was given, and every single day he tried his best.
All those little things, you thought of as personal and never disclosed them with Fury. Maybe too personal. They had become your family and you couldn’t just turn on them. As you watched them interact with each other you just saw a big, kind of dysfunctional but very loving family.
“So that’s your thing… you observe” he startled you and you quickly turned around to see a smug-looking face.
“It’s the best tactic” you carefully answered while searching for any kind of sign in his eyes. But he gave you very little. You shouldn’t have hoped for anything more but you were crushing indeed. He kept staring at you, checking you out from head to toe. You could tell that he … at least, appreciated your look. You were wearing a dark red dress with an elegant halter neckline, form-fitting bodice, empire waist, lace-up elastic back, and knee-length skirt. It had a black ribbon sash that garnished your empire waistline providing the perfect finishing touch. A winged eyeliner and bold, dark red lips were all you needed, makeup-wise.
You knew that he was still looking at you when you decided to grab your drink and walk over to the others, leaving him to admire your naked back as you swayed your hips a bit more. It didn’t take him long to join you.
The night went on pretty smoothly. Tony was a rather drunk jerk, Pepper was embraced and slightly angry at him but nothing new there. Wanda and Vision were in a world of their own and no one could blame them; Thor was drinking with Steve, while Clint and Pietro were betting who would pass out first. Rhodey and Sam were comparing their flying style. Bruce and Natasha were flirting shamelessly and you were enjoying your beer while listening to a very talkative Bucky. He hadn’t shut up ever since Steve had brought up old Brooklyn. And all the girls Bucky was seeing… There was cockiness in his voice and pride in his attitude, two things not so usual.
Some people would call that a small party, a gathering, but to you, that was just another Friday night. Everything was perfect until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced one Nick Fury and one Maria Hills. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and you simply swallowed hard. You felt it in the pit of your stomach. He was there for you. And it was never that simple with Fury.
“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” he mocked you, but Tony was faster.
“Sorry, we’re closed. Invitations only” he said very seriously. He was still not big on trusting him and honestly, he was right. You stood up and tried your best to hide behind Bucky’s broad silhouette. He sensed it and was confused but not a moment later, he froze. There was a moment of realization that you would understand later on. He tried to shield you from Fury’s view, while Steve… did the same, as he walked in front of you.
“It won’t take long. I just need to borrow her” he pointed directly at you and a rush of cold air was pushed down your lungs. No, every part of your conscience and subconscious was trying to warn you; it was as if your body was scarred to move. You shook it off and hesitantly walked towards him.
“It’s only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back” you assured them but the look on Bucky’s face was one of dread. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. Fury rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be in the other room” he informed you but you really didn’t care about him. Your hand was on fire by his touch.
You looked worried as well but you couldn’t understand why. Bucky seemed to know more than he let on but now was not the time. He simply brought you closer to him with desperation. You didn’t know how to react. He had never been that touchy or that straightforward with you.
“Remember this, please” he begged you, and as you were going to ask what, why and other possible questions, he cupped your face and planted a pained kiss on your lips. Your breath was caught on the back of your neck, your mind shut down and your eyes had never closed that fast before. You felt the agony, the emotions flowing towards you, the pain-stained past… you felt him.
He let go, unwillingly. He looked pale as if he had seen a ghost; or maybe you were one. His eyes never left yours and when his hand fell through thin air, his breath hitched, he immediately tried to grab you but Steve called him, ever so softly, that you never heard it clearly. But alas, it had to happen.
Dumbfounded, you walked into the room with Fury, not being able to process anything, still feeling him close but too far away.
“You talk to no one, you change nothing, you come back to your boyfriend and you still say nothing, got it?” he deadpanned but you were too lost to be able to understand any of it.
“What do I do?” you asked purely out of habit. He went into details, nothing too descriptive. You had to use one of the things he gave you to be transported, whatever that meant, in and out of where you were going. You had to find a file with the number 32557038 in a military base and return home. Under different circumstances, you would have declined but you were not in the right mind and all you wanted to do was go back to Bucky and have a do-over. But, alas.
“You’re going now”.
“Press this when you’re ready and press it again when you’re done”. He didn’t give you much of a choice, as he pressed it for you, and you spun around.
warnings: gunshot wound, blood mention, mature language
pairing: bucky barnes x female oc
word count: 2,027
A/N: apricity will have a series of installments of one-shots to give in-depth glimpses of bucky, florence, and their story! this is one. thank you for reading! feedback is welcome!
Bucharest, Romania. 1990
Eight months into the year-long recon mission.
Florence wasn’t a stranger to the searing pain of a gunshot wound or the stinging radiation of a stab wound. She’s taken too many bullets to count, patching herself up in dingy bathrooms, dark back alleys, and now a safe house in Romania.
She stumbled through the barren apartment leaving a trail of blood, the Soldier nowhere to be found. She pushed the bathroom door open with bloody hands, her footing messily stumbled to the sink as she felt hot blood ooze down her hip. She tore off her tactical vest the bullet had managed to go through and peeled the sticky shirt off of her abdomen, the blood making the fabric stick to her skin uncomfortably. Gritting her teeth, she swiped an alcohol pad up the trail of blood, the movement ending at the entry wound.
The bottle of liquor was in front of her on the sink, leftover from the soldier when he had gotten stabbed the week before. She took the bottle in her hand, the glass smearing with blood, and shakily twisted the cap off and taking a long swig before she poured it on the wound. Florence yelped in pain, biting her shirt to quiet her moans of pain and to keep it out of her way. She places the bottle back down on the sink, the glass meeting the porcelain with a clink.
She fishes the tweezers out of the first-aid kit and runs them under the tap, the blood loss not giving her the energy to properly clean them. A deep breath in and then the metal enters the wound, blindly poking and prodding her flesh to try to find the slug of the bullet. Florence bites down on the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt so hard she’s afraid she’ll fracture her own jaw, her hands shaking so uncontrollably that she drops the tweezers into the sink. The shirt drops from her mouth as she leans against the porcelain, catching her reflection in the mirror as she drops her head and takes a deep breath in, closing her eyes.
Something shuffles behind her, she lifts her head slowly to look in the reflection of the mirror behind her. The soldier looms in the doorway, his broad figure taking up the entire space of the door as his eyes scanned the bloody mess of the bathroom. If Florence wasn’t so delirious from the blood loss, she would have noticed the panicked rise and fall of his chest or the mixture of concern, relief, and anger swimming in his eyes as he finally took in her slumped form.
The soldier enters the cramped bathroom without a word and picked the bloody tweezers from the floor. His hand meets Florence’s elbow, gently guiding her to sit on the closed toilet lid, ker skin was paling by the second from blood loss. Bucky reaches in front of her and grabs the whiskey, pouring it over the tweezers. He fishes around the first-aid kit for what, Florence doesn’t know, too busy trying to keep herself upright and not falling onto the floor. The last thing she wanted was for the soldier to carry her out of here like she was helpless.
The soldier found what he was looking for, busying himself with threading a needle to stitch up the wound once he got the bullet out. He hid the shake of his hands well, swallowing down the anxiety that settled in his bones. The thought of something happening to Florence sparked a fire inside if him that would never die out, the embers would always be lit even if it was only a dying ash. Bucky has killed for much less, he wouldn't bat an eye to do it for Florence, it would be the only time he would wash blood from his hands and not end up in a fit of panic. The length Bucky would go for her knew no end, he'd go to the ends of the earth.
He laid out gauze and pads along the sink edge, much more prepared than Florence. He could probably patch up a bullet wound in his sleep, only if he ever did sleep. Florence tiredly watches Bucky as he turns toward her with tweezers in hand, his stormy eyes never meeting hers and his jaw clenching angrily and shoulders tensing, his body rigid. The girl didn’t have the energy to indulge in his anger, she didn’t understand why he was even angry in the first place.
Bucky set the tweezers down on the edge of the sink, his hands dropping down to his belt, fingers working at the buckle. Florence watched in confusion as he undid his belt, metal and flesh fingers sliding it through the belt loops of his dark jeans. He wrapped the leather around his hand before sliding it off and motioning the folded leather towards her mouth, nodding for her to bite down on it.
He picks up the tweezers again and kneels in front of her on one knee, looking at her in a silent apology before he plunges the metal into her flesh. Florence bites down on the leather, eyes screwing shut as she balls her hands up in fists in her lap. Bucky continues to dig, the tweezers hitting a particularly tender spot, Florence’s hand flying to his shoulder and clutching his navy blue shirt, causing the man to pause for a moment and take a deep breath. The tweezers finally catch on something solid, Bucky pulling the bullet out quickly and pushing gauze to the wound as he drops the blood-soaked bullet into the sink, blood splattering across the ivory porcelain.
Florence drops the belt from her mouth, watching as it falls the ground between her and Bucky, who still kept pressure on the wound.
Bucky reaches across himself to grab the needle, finally speaking, “Hold the gauze.” His tone is cold and sharp, a night and day difference from the look in his eyes that expressed that he was scared and worried. Florence could usually read him like a book but now that book had slammed closed and locked itself away.
Florence places her hand over his as she takes over holding the gauze, Bucky sterilizing the needle with the remaining liquor in the bottle. He'd have to buy another tomorrow.
He turns back, fingers prying at her hand to remove the bloody padding as he began to stitch the wound closed, not bothering to warn Florence of the sting of the needle, this was her payback for making him feel like his entire world was ending at the fear of losing her. Only she didn't know that.
Time passed slowly as Bucky stitched her up, Florence gaining more awareness as she watched Bucky’s jaw tick, “I didn’t ask you to help me, so why are you mad? Is it the mess?” Blood was everywhere leading to and in the bathroom, she remembered their first month in the apartment, the soldier had yelled at her about her leaving a dish in the sink, something about not leaving a trace that they had been there. She called him paranoid then and she immediately regretted it when the look on his face read like she had just slapped him.
The soldier clipped the thread and started a new stitch, shaking his head, “No.”
Florence huffed, wincing as the needle plunged through her flesh again, sharp and pulling, “Then what’s wrong with you?”
“You should have been more careful.” Bucky spoke with a clipped tone, not daring to look up at her. If he did, he's afraid he'd crumble right on the floor in front of her.
If breathing didn’t feel like her sternum was going to crack, Florence would have laughed, “Are you kidding? You got stabbed last week and I didn’t say a word.” The soldier had entered the apartment at 3 in the morning clutching his side with one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other and a sour scowl on his face. Florence sat awake on the sofa, she was waiting for him to get home, her anxiety growing as the clock continued to tick, and watched as he stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door. She didn't follow but heard the muttered curses through the thin peeling walls. She didn't sleep at all that night.
Bucky huffed as he finished up the final stitch, “That was different.”
Anger pooled in the girl’s eyes, “Please explain to me how that is different. Enlighten me.”
Blue finally met green, both staring at each other intensely, “It’s different because you are the one that got shot. You should have let me handle the mission today.”
This time Florence did laugh, ignoring the searing pain it sent through her entire body, “You know what? Fuck you. We were sent here to do a mission, that’s what I was doing. Do not treat me like I’m glass.”
Bucky immediately regretted partaking in this argument, he should have stayed quiet, otherwise, right now his feelings wouldn’t be bubbling to the surface, “I never said you were glass. I should have gone with you, protected you.”
All bets were off, Florence’s nerves were fried- frayed and raw and he had just rubbed salt in the wound, “Protected me?! I don’t need protecting! I got shot, end of story.” This conversation sparked a fire in Florence, everything she had been bottling up threatening to explode, taking multiple casualties in its path with no mercy. They were both going to drown in the emotion flooding the air between them.
That was Bucky’s final straw, his jaw ticked, eyes widened and suddenly he was yelling, voice bouncing of the confined walls of the dingy bathroom, “No! Not end of story! When I walked in, I saw a trail of blood and thought the worst, I thought I had lost you, Florence!”
Time froze, Florence’s brain malfunctioning as Bucky’s words sunk in, “You know my name.” All eight months, he called her soldier, never anything else. She silently prayed that eventually he'd recognize her, give her a dose of before, before all of this, and now it was finally happening. She watched as the soldier stood in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted like he had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The two stared in silence before he spoke again, his tone significantly quieter as it trembled and shook with emotion, “I'll forget my own before I ever forget yours." Tears brimmed his eyes, "I remembered it last week. Along with a few more things I can’t place.”
Florence had been off the ice considerably longer than Bucky had before this mission, her memory had already come back to her in chunks. All of him. All of Bucky. Everything.
“What-,” Florence gulped, “What things?” Florence pleaded internally that it wasn’t what she was dreading.
"A ring? All I remember was that it was emerald. I never see the girl I give it to, it’s too blurry. And a pregnant woman? That one is the most confusing.”
Florence now had a vendetta with the universe.
Florence weighed her options of telling him the truth or lying to him, opting to tell him the truth. She settled on only one truth today, she couldn’t handle the other one, not now, “The ring was mine. You and I were together before this. We were engaged, you proposed right before you left for England in the war.”
Bucky only looked at her, a distant look in his eyes, “Oh.” That’s all he had to say, choosing to remain silent as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Florence to fight the demons herself.
She twisted the lock on the door, slid down to the ground, and sobbed, not caring that Bucky could definitely hear her. Screaming at the universe or any higher being, she begged them to listen, pleading for something, anything. Death, escape, to wake up from this nightmare.
None of it was fair.
That night, Bucky and Florence slept through the night in the same bed for the first time, finding temporary peace in each other’s arms.
Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed!
Tag list: @tanyaherondale @lilyviolets @jckie94 @g-mayunot @geek-and-proud @ginger-swag-rapunzel
honestly the thought of a unhinged, feral, slightly-might-not-even-be-mentally stable Winter Soldier pinning me down and just ripping my cute flimsy little panties off in a urgent need of primal instinct to force me to just take it or just a silently stalking Winter Soldier sneaking inside my bedroom window and manhandling my body against his as he fucks me full of his cock and seed in my unknowing body is just a godsend pls—
the thought of just Bucky or him as the Winter Soldier splitting me open on his massive cock, ruining me for everyone else makes me wanna scream (without the ‘s’) isuheuehebhdi yes sir
Summary: the a/c is out in the apartment complex and Bucky asks if you have an extra fan available.
I awoke with a shortness of breath. I was groggy and sweating. It's hot, when did it get hot? I laid in bed for a few more seconds, waking up. 'Ugh, I'm all sweaty and gross'
Making my way out of my room and into the hallway, I see the soft glow the electronic thermostat is casting. Now facing it, it unsurprisingly reads "Error? How the fuck? I'll have to call the landlord in the morning, fucking apartments- I swear.". I suddenly jump and scream as there's an unexpected knock on my door. Looking down at my naked body I rush back to my room to grab a shirt and some shorts.
I opened the door, the light from the hallway burning my corneas. Retinas? My eyes. Burning my eyes. Blinking a few times, I was able to focus on a chest, perspiring and a heavily breathing chest. Well cut and damn, mouth watering. I could my laundry on those abs. Looking up I was met with a face. A grumpy face. "Its sweltering, do you have an extra fan?" "Well hello to you too lovely neighbor, James. Wanna come in?" He smiled and awkwardly "right, sorry. And yeah sure, also its Bucky" I walked backwards pulling the door with me letting him in. "I don't have any fans Buckmeister, but I could take you to the store and we buy some.". "At 2 in the morning? And with your shirt on backwards?" "Hey! At least I have a shirt on and Wal-Mart is 24 hours.". I pulled my arms into my shirt and twisted it around while Bucky tried not to stare as the shirt rode up over my stomach. I smiled to myself. "You go get a shirt and some shoes on and I'll get some shoes on. Are my shorts on backwards too?". I pulled my shirt up over my ass and turned to show him. He cleared his throat and smiled his usual dopey cute smile "nope, all good". I walked away to my room to put shoes on. "Please tell me your car has A/C!" He shouted after me.
"Oh fuck yeah" i moaned "feels so good" Bucky replied in a groan. We were ecstatic to feel the cool A/C hit us in the car. Pulling out of the multistory carpark, we started our journey to find some fans.
"I can't believe this has been happening literally every other week, what a shitty landlord." "I know, he's being such a douche. When I moved in, he glared at me- I think he hates "disabled people". He has made so many weird comments". "Are you kidding me? What a dick!" We chatted as we made our way to the fan aisle. Turns out the landlord is much shittier than we both thought. "So what brings you to New York?" "College, I'm a teacher, ASL". "ASL? What's that?" "American Sign Language." "Oh yeah, where do you teach? Like Kindergarten or something?" " College students.".
We picked out two big kitchen fans and two small desk fans. After checking out, Buck's stomach growled. Loudly. I laughed and looked at his stomach "Hey I'm hungry too but you don't gotta scream about it."
Finally home after stuffing our faces with McDonald's and due to Bucky's super soldier metabolism, we got Taco Bell too. And stopped for ice cream at Walmart again. "Fuck my guy, how much can you put away? Hell yeah!" "What? I'm a pig, you arent grossed out?" "No, I like people who can eat.". "Well, wanna go to the liquor store?" He posed the question. "Oh hell yeah, you read my mind.".
Now home I unlocked my apartment when- "oh shit." "What?" "I think I locked my keys in my apartment." "You're shitting me", I deadpanned. "I'm so sorry." "Ah don't apologize, I'll put you up on the couch. Yay! Sleep over" I poked at his ribs. "Yay, cause being an 107 year old adult and locking your keys accidentally in your apartment is something to celebrate" he rolled his eyes. "Well jeez party pooper, if you'd rather sleep in the hallway then.." "shit, no I'm sorry. Thank you. But we can drink together" I faked a gasp "that is very true. And hopefully it'll distract us from the heat of a thousand suns in here. A warning, I do tend to get shirtless when drunk." "Well then I guess I'll just have to get pantsless" he wriggled his brows. 'Oh dear Gods, yes'.
3 liquid marijuanas
5 shots of caramel Smirnoff
And 3 games of mini shots pong later, we were floored. Well I was. Buckmiester was off his ass too. We were sitting on the floor eating our melted ice cream. Bucky missed his mouth with spoon and spilled the ice cream on his shirt. "Shit, I like this shirt" he whined before pulling it off. I bit my lip, my inebriation not caring about hiding my attraction to my neighbor. "You like what you see, Doll?" His voice dropped. I blushed and nodded. He leaned forward and crawled on his knees to me. Being drunk, and an absolute genius, apparently, I dropped ice cream on my shirt too. "Oops." I whispered and looked up at him, trying my best to look innocent. Bucky longed forward and ripped my shirt off, well over me. And pulled me in for a kiss. Hit teeth it mine, I could taste the alcohol and mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue. It was messy and perfect at the same time. I groaned as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. I pulled back, "bedroom.". He nodded "bedroom.". He stood up a little too quickly and had to sit on the couch. I made my way up the couch. "You know, the couch is a perfectly suitable place" he said as he grabbed me forced me onto his lap. "We're both too drunk to go to the bed". His metal hand was warm too, no doubt because of the apartment, even will all four fans set on high. His lips kissed from the shell of my ear to my collarbone, "ssshhhh. No need for logic right now". Metal hand on my breast, and flesh one on my ass, he reared his hand back and slapped my ass hard. "Oh fuck, do it again". He rolled us over onto my back and him on top. He literally ripped my shorts off, pushing my knees to my stomach, he spanked me again. "Dirty girl" he whispered as his stubble graced my breast as he sucked and nibbled on my breasts. His flesh hand made it's way down, caressing my sides and my stomach and the top of my thigh, he forced my legs apart and thrusted his clothes bulge against my unclothed sex. I grabbed his neck and pulled his face to mine and kissed him, I felt him grow harder against me. "You're not naked enough". "Yes ma'am" he smiled and got up, this time a little slower. "Just curious, why no panties?" The smile on his face was wide, "I sleep naked". His smile grew wicked, "oh, really?". He suddenly went to his knees. He grabbed my ankle and pulled my sideways. "That's hot" was all he replied as I corrected my self and rested my legs on his shoulders. "Fuck that feels good" My voice shifted, wavering, as his mouth marked my thighs. Kissing, biting, nibbling, hickied, light teeth marks.
"Just a quick taste" he whispered, then licked my pussy, his tongue swiveling around my slit then up to my clit. He kissed my mound, then dove back in. My moans turned into screams as he worked his tongue on my clit as he slipped a metal finger inside of me. His flesh hand groped my breast, and trailed up to my throat and squeezed and he added a second finger and curled. I think my body took a screenshot as a I came on his fingers. His fingers pounded into me faster as I rode out my high and he stared at my face. I calmed down after coming down, I looked at him confused. "What?" "You're fucking beautiful when you cum for me, when you cum on my fingers. Wonder how beautiful you look when you come on my cock, darlin". Before I could reply, he thrusted his thick member into me. Stretching me open. "Oooh fuuck Bucky!" I screamed and hung onto his back. He didn't stop, didn't let me adjust. "That's it doll, say my fuckin name, scream it!". He pulled my hair, as he exposed my neck he bit it. I was a whimper mess, the punishing pace he was pounding into me, the feeling of the bite and the pain of my hair being pulled. "Want the whole apartment complex to hear you screaming my name. Want them to know who you belong to." I wailed as he hit the special spot in me, it made me see stars. "That's it bunny, let it all out, cum for me". He pulled out and flipped me over. "You doin okay?" He paused, all I could do to answer him was nodding. He laughed. "Are cock drunk already? I barely fuck you and you already can't speak". He slipped himself in again, "aaaaaah" "that's right" he thrusted, pulled my hips up. "Who owns you baby?" "You do". He moved again, spanking me, he shouted "I said, who owns you?!". I mustered all my strength, I took too long, he spanked me again and again, as the blows landed on my behind- he didn't stop his pace. This time he spanked me with his metal hand, "you do!" I cried out. He spanked me again and I came, hard. I wailed as my legs shook, I felt him pull out and something warm hitting my back.
For some reason I felt more tired than usual, and more sober. "Hold on honey, let me get you a wash cloth". I hummed in response. That was intense, amazing even. He came back shortly and gently cleaned me up. I felt the rag between my legs, he started wiping me knees and lower thighs first which was weird. Moving up I felt it gently rub my sensitive pussy, then my back. He kissed my head and helped me sit up. "Have you ever squirted before?" "No, why?" "Because you just did." "I'm sorry, what?" I looked at his lap as he was wiping at his legs, it was wet. And then I turned to look at my couch, also wet. "Woah." I whispered softly.
"Not to sound too arrogant but do you think you can walk?" I huffed a laugh "I don't think so.". With that, he picked me up and we stumbled our way to my room. It had finally cooled off and laid me down on the outside of my bed and he crawled on the other side. "Good night miss (Y/n)" he cuddled me and pulled my head to his chest. "Nighty night Buckmeister". He chuckled and kissed my head again and we snuggled in a soothing slumber.
summary: You realize you have fallen in love with your best friend.
A/N: I’m a music addict. Every time I write a fic I’m usually listening to a song on a loop that helps feed the aesthetic. I will be adding each song to my fics <3
Listen with: Like the Movies -Laufey
I almost didn’t realize I was falling in love with Bucky. I had run every mission with him. After the missions we were inseparable. Every moment we could we spent it in each other’s company. It wasn’t until one day that Sam asked what was going on with Bucky and me. Sam joked with me always, but something in his voice made me really stop and look. I was in love with my best friend.
“I love him Sam,” you uttered.
“I know, my question wasn't that but have you guys talked about it?” Sam asked.
“I don’t think either of us has stopped to realize it I guess.” You reply.
Your mind began to wander. Does he love me back? Does he even know I love him?
“What if he…” you begin to say.
“No don’t do that. Matter of fact go ask him. Don’t ask that question you know neither of us knows the answer to.” He interrupts you.
You sigh, “You make it sound so easy.”
There is a knock at your door.
“Door’s open!” You shout across your room.
Bucky lets himself in. You’re laying across your bed doodling in an old notebook.
“Hey doll, what are you up to?” He asks as he sits on the edge of your bed.
“I was waiting for you so I started doodling.” You sit up and place the notebook on his lap
“I love when you doodle,” Bucky says as he looks at your notebook
“Bucky. Um, I wanna ask you something but please don’t make it weird.” You stumble over your words.
“What is it?” He is now looking straight at you.
“Umm, damn uh, this is harder than I thought. I’m in love with you.” You get up from the bed.
Silence fills the room. You look over at Bucky. You can see him have this look on his face. His eyes meet with yours. He sees the look of worry on your face. He gets up off the bed and meets you where you stand.
He takes a hold of your hands. “ Oh Y/N, I love you. I'm sorry I kept you waiting for a response. I thought I would've been the first to say it out loud.”
summary: the reader was a pararescue along with sam and riley and was engaged to riley. what happens when she gets roped into the world of captain america? or when she meets bucky barnes? this chapter takes place during ca:ws and will closely follow the canon mcu timeline.
pairing: bucky x fem!reader
warnings: canon level violence, mentions of torture, being held captive, mentions of blood, an old scar, trauma, ptsd, things of that nature
A/N: THE BRIDGE FIGHT SCENE. guys i really hope i did it justice y’all LMAO 🤣 i deadass had to stop watching ca:ws every 10 seconds to make sure i was getting every detail but also i'm not good at writing action scenes so pls bear with me
bucky does make an appearance as the winter soldier hehe
also just a disclaimer: i know little to nothing about the air force and tried my best to do some research but mistakes are bound to be made so don’t pay too much attention to those 😅
and as always i would love to hear any feedback, comments, or suggestions u guys have!!!!!!!!🥰
word count: 4100
Taking a sip from his sweet tea, Sam locked his eyes on Agent Sitwell walking out of the building in front of him.
“We got eyes on Sitwell,” Y/N spoke into her earpiece as Sam kept his sight on the target.
“Copy that, the car is around the corner to the right, 2 spaces down,” Steve replied.
“I got a clear view of him too,” Nat said, lining her sniper up. “Nice tie.” Y/N and Sam watched as the man, who Sitwell was talking to, started to walk away. Sam pulled out his phone to engage in the next step of the plan. Y/N watched as Agent Sitwell dismissed his bodyguards and answered his phone.
“Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious.” Sam saw Y/N smile from the corner of his eye as he spoke.
“Who is this?”
“The good-looking guy in the sunglasses, your 10 o’clock,” Y/N chuckled as Agent Sitwell looked up in the opposite direction of where she and Sam were seated. Sam rolled his eyes as he provided further instruction. “Your other 10 o’clock.” Agent Sitwell turned, finally making eye contact with the pair. “There you go.” Sam and Y/N held up their drinks to greet Sitwell’s gaze.
“What do you want?”
“You’re gonna go around the corner to your right. There's a gray car 2 spaces down. We're gonna take a ride.”
"And why would I do that?"
"Because that tie looks really expensive," As Sam spoke, Sitwell's eyes looked down at his chest to see a bright red sniper dot on his tie. Sam continued, "and I'd hate to mess it up." Sitwell's eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the sniper scope to no avail. Realizing he had no choice, he started down the street as Sam and Y/N followed closely behind.
"Feels weird being suited up again," Y/N said, adjusting the straps on her harness. The pair were perched on the ledge of a building opposite to the one Steve and Natasha had brought Sitwell to. Sam flashed her a grin.
"Feels right to me," he turned his attention to the roof of the building in front of him. "Still fits like a glove."
The two saw their cue to engage as Sitwell was kicked off the rooftop and falling towards the street. Sam jumped off the ledge, his wings unfolding, as he darted towards the falling body. Y/N followed suit, her stomach doing a flip as her feet left the edge, identical to the feeling she used to get on roller coasters. A huge smile grew on her face. She didn't realize how badly she had missed being airborne. Since she had come back from serving overseas, she hadn't experienced anything that felt quite as right as this. Suddenly, Y/N had a feeling that it wasn't chance that brought Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff to Sam's door.
Sam grabbed the collar of Sitwell's jacket and flew straight up, dropping the agent onto the roof. Y/N followed close behind Sam as they made their landing. Their wings folded back into place as they turned around to face Steve and Natasha.
Y/N glanced over to Sam and grinned. "Like riding a bike."
The four surrounded Sitwell as he remained on the ground, holding one of his hands up in defense.
Sitwell quickly blurted out, "Zola's algorithm is a program," he paused. "For choosing Insight's targets."
"What targets?" Steve questioned.
"You!" Sitwell threw his hand in Steve's direction. "A TV anchor in Cairo, the other Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City," he paused before continuing. "Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA." Natasha quickly looked to Steve before looking back at Sitwell. "Now, or in the future." Y/N and Sam shared a confused look with each other.
Steve paused. "In the future? How could it know?" Sitwell began to laugh as he went on.
"How could it not?" He began to stand up. "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores!" Sitwell kept his eyes on Steve. "Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."
"And what then?" Steve remained his eye contact as Sitwell's face dropped. He looked down as a sudden wave of regret washed over him, realizing what he'd revealed.
"Oh my god. Pierce is gonna kill me." Sitwell took a step back, causing Sam to grab his jacket collar. Y/N took a defensive step forward, blocking off an exit pathway for Sitwell.
"What then?" Steve demanded.
Sitwell paused, realizing since he had already given up most of the information, he might as well offer the rest. "Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time." Steve stared at Sitwell, absorbing the information he had just been told before speaking.
"We need to start moving," he glared at Sitwell. "And you're coming with us."
Sam and Steve sat in the driver and passenger seats of the car, respectively, as Natasha, Y/N, and Agent Sitwell were seated in the back.
Sitwell spoke up, "HYDRA doesn't like leaks."
"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam shot back.
Natasha leaned forward towards Steve. "Insight's launching in 16 hours. We're cutting it a little bit close here."
"I know," Steve replied as Natasha sat back in her seat. "We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly." Sitwell shot forward in his seat.
"What? Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea." Before Steve could reply to Sitwell, a loud thud from the roof of the car interrupted him. Y/N flinched as the window next to Sitwell was punched by a metal arm. Her eyes widened as the arm grabbed Sitwell from his seat next to her and threw him off the overpass. Both she and Natasha caught a glimpse of a gun out the window before gunshots went off coming from the roof of the car.
Natasha quickly moved to the front of the car onto Steve's lap as Y/N shifted to the right side of the car, where Natasha had been sitting, attempting to shield herself by crouching down and putting her arms over her head. More gunshots went off, this time coming from the front of the car, almost hitting Steve and Sam in the head. They both managed to duck as Steve pulled the emergency brake lever, throwing the unknown figure from the roof of the car and onto the road in front of them.
The figure, in all black except for his metal arm, managed a 3-point landing and slid down the road, the fingers from his metal arm creating sparks as he dug his hand in the road to stabilize himself. He slowly stood up, facing Sam's car, his eyes covered by black goggles and the lower half of his face hidden behind a black mask. His long hair also worked to hide his face. Before Natasha could attempt to shoot him, a large jeep slammed into the back of the car, causing her to drop her gun and pushing them forward.
Sam, both hands on the wheel, attempted to steer out of the way as the masked figure jumped up onto the roof of the car. The back window shattered and Y/N put her arms up to shield herself from the broken glass. Sam slammed his foot on the brake while Natasha scrambled to grab her gun.
Suddenly, the front window was punched through and the steering wheel was ripped out of Sam's hands.
Natasha managed to grab her gun and shot at the roof as the figure jumped from the roof of their car to the hood of the jeep behind them. Y/N turned around to look behind her and could see the jeep getting ready to hit their car again. She leaned forward between the front seats of the car.
“They’re gonna hit us from behind again!” She yelled as she tried to figure out their next steps. Steve was already one step ahead of her.
“Grab onto Sam!” Y/N looked at Steve and nodded. She climbed to the front of the car and wrapped an arm around Sam, sitting on his lap. Before she could make a witty remark about what Riley's reaction to their positioning would be, the jeep slammed into the back of their car again, sending it swerving out of control.
"Hang on!" Steve secured his shield on his forearm before grabbing hold of Natasha and Sam. Sam wrapped one arm around Steve and the other around Y/N. Steve used the momentum of the car starting to flip over, to bust down the passenger side door. The four of them landed on the road, the car door breaking their fall. As the door slid down the road from the force of impact, Sam and Y/N rolled off and onto the road, standing up quickly to analyze the situation. Steve and Natasha got up quickly from the car door to defend themselves.
The jeep had come to a stop and the masked figure jumped off the roof to grab a grenade launcher from his associate. He fired it in the direction of Steve and Natasha, Steve pushing her out of the way as he covered himself with his shield. The force of it was so great it sent him, and his shield, flying over the bridge and into a bus.
Meanwhile, Y/N, Natasha, and Sam were taking cover from the masked figure and the rest of the attackers open-fired on them. Natasha was able to fire back with her gun, drawing the attention of the attackers and the masked figure. Y/N and Sam kept hidden behind cars trying to formulate a plan.
"They're distracted right now," Sam said pulling a knife from his pocket. He looked at Y/N. "We can sneak up on them when their backs are turned." She nodded. A loud blast went off, and Y/N stole a quick glance, peering over the car she was hiding behind. The masked figure shot another grenade at Natasha. She managed to dodge it and run behind a car. Another grenade was shot at her and Y/N watched as Natasha jumped off the bridge to avoid getting hit.
"It looks like they're after Steve and Natasha," Y/N began as she continued to watch the situation unfold. "I think metal arm dude is going after her and the rest of them are looking for Steve." She turned to Sam. "Guess there are perks to not being an Avenger after all."
The two saw the masked figure jump over the bridge as a couple others used cable cords to rappel down. Sam and Y/N quietly made their way over to two men who hadn't secured their ropes yet. Sam landed a kick to one of the men's knees, causing the man to turn and face him, before punching him across the face and swiping his knife up the man's body. He grabbed the man's gun before kicking him off the bridge.
The second man turned to face Y/N, upon seeing his partner fall off the bridge. She smirked before kicking him across his face and snatching the machine gun from his hands. The man attempted to punch her, but she quickly dodged it and used the butt of the gun to push him over the edge.
She looked over at Sam and smiled, "God I missed this."
They looked over the bridge to see several men shooting at Steve, using his shield to protect himself. Sam and Y/N began shooting at the men attacking Steve, allowing him to take cover behind a car.
As Steve looked up at them, Sam shouted out to him. "Go! We got this!"
The two of them managed to finish off the rest of the attackers before going to retrieve their flight suits. Flying in the direction that Steve and Natasha ran off towards, Y/N and Sam were able to see from above the now, maskless figure, standing a couple feet in front of Steve.
Steve stared at the man in front of him. He stood frozen in place as he realized he was looking at his childhood friend, who he thought was dead, standing before him. "Bucky?"
"Who the hell is Bucky?" The man brought his gun to aim at Steve.
Sam swooped down and kicked the man, knocking him down. Y/N flew down to grab the man's metal arm and started to fly up, taking him with her. He was able to stand his ground and yank her arm, slamming Y/N to the ground. She groaned before lifting her head to look at the man Steve called "Bucky." Although they made eye contact for a split second, Y/N managed to see a lost, confused look in his eyes.
The man quickly turned around, ready to try and shoot Steve again when a grenade missile was sent flying towards him. Steve turned to see Natasha holding a grenade launcher and turned back around to see that Bucky had vanished.
The sound of sirens grew louder as black vans and police cars surrounded the four of them. Men in tactical gear with guns pointed at them ran towards them. As Natasha, Sam, and Y/N were handcuffed and stuffed in the back of a van, Rumlow barked orders at Steve.
"Drop the shield, Cap! Get on your knees!" Steve did as he was told, staring at the ground in front of him, attempting to process what had just happened.
"It was him." Steve kept his stare on the floor. "He looked right at me like he didn't even know me." Y/N sat quietly next to Steve, listening.
"How's that even possible? It was, like, 70 years ago." Sam replied.
"Zola." Steve paused to think. "Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43. Zola experimented on him." Steve finally looked up to meet Natasha's eyes. "Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..."
Natasha cut him off. "None of that's your fault, Steve." Her voice trailed off at the end and Y/N could tell that Natasha was losing a lot of blood from the bullet wound in her shoulder. Steve shifted his view towards the floor again before speaking softly.
"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."
Y/N moved her handcuffed hands to rest on top of Steve's and gave them a squeeze. He turned to look at her to see her offering a soft smile.
"We're gonna figure this out. Whatever it is."
Steve gave a small smile back to Y/N before she removed her hands from his. Natasha tilted her head back, eyes squinting in pain. Sam observed her wound and spoke up.
"We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Sam jumped back in his seat as one of the guards took out a stun baton, pointing it in his direction. The guard then turned to hit the guard sitting beside them with the baton and kicked them across the face, effectively knocking them out. Everyone stared in shock as the guard removed their helmet, only to reveal Maria Hill sitting before them.
"Ah. That thing was squeezing my brain." She paused to move her hair out of her face before looking at Sam and Y/N. "Who are they?"
Steve was about to speak up before Maria cut him off, grabbing her Mouse Hole to start cutting into the floor of the van. "Actually we don't have time for introductions, we gotta get moving. Don't want to keep him waiting."
The four of them emerged from the car and followed Maria into a secure facility. A man jogged down the dimly lit hallway toward them as Maria reported off to him.
"GSW. She's lost at least a pint."
"Maybe two." Sam added. The man motioned them to follow him.
"Let me take her."
"She'll want to see him first." Maria's statement causing Steve and Natasha to share confused looks with each other. They continued to follow Maria down a series of hallways. Upon approaching a clear, plastic curtain, Maria slowly pulled it back. Steve and Natasha's eyes widened in shock to see Nick Fury, who had they had previously seen die from a heart attack, alive and well in a hospital bed.
"About damn time." Fury paused, looking at Y/N and Sam. "Who the hell are they?"
"They're with me," Steve turned to smile at the pair before turning his attention back to Fury. "We can trust them. This is Sam Wilson and Y/N L/N." Y/N gave a slight wave and Sam folded his arms. Fury sighed.
"Fine, but give me a reason not to trust either of you, and you'll both be dead before you know it."
Y/N and Sam stood and watched as Steve, Natasha, Maria, and Fury discussed the issue at hand.
"We have to stop the launch," Natasha stated, before turning to look at Steve.
"I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore," Fury spun the briefcase in front of him, opening it to reveal 3 targeting blades.
Sam leaned over to get a better look before asking, "What's that?"
Maria turned her computer to show graphics of the helicarriers on the screen. "Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized."
Fury continued, "We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own."
"One or two won't cut it," Maria clarified. "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."
Fury ended their explanation by stating, "We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We have to get past them, insert these server blades. And maybe, just maybe we can salvage what's left-"
Steve cut him off. "We're not salvaging anything." Fury looked up to meet Steve's eyes. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We're taking down S.H.I.E.L.D."
Fury defended himself. "S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with this."
"You gave me this mission. This is how it ends." Steve argued back. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been compromised. You said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."
"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed."
"How many paid the price before you did?" Y/N felt her admiration for Steve grow in that moment. She had always admired Captain America, but this was a side to him that the public didn't see. He was staying true to his beliefs, always looking out to do what was right. Even if that meant going against someone he admired and respected, against everything he knew. Fury broke away from Steve's stare and looked down.
"Look, I didn't know about Barnes."
"Even if you had, would you have told me?" Fury looked up as Steve continued. "Or would you have compartmentalized that, too? S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, it all goes."
"He's right." Fury turned to face Maria at the sound of her voice. She gave him a soft nod. Fury looked at Natasha who stared at him silently. He then looked up at Sam and Y/N.
"Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower." Y/N chuckled at Sam's statement.
"And I do what he does," Y/N pointing to Sam. "Just faster." She teased. Fury looked to Steve again.
"Well..." Fury took one last glance at Maria as she gave him a comforting look. He sat back in his seat and sighed. "It looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."
After the meeting, Maria took Fury to get some rest, doctor's orders, and Natasha went to get a blood transfusion. Steve had excused himself after reviewing the plan to get some air. Y/N and Sam were left sitting at the table.
"I can't imagine how Steve must be feeling." Y/N fiddled with her hands as Sam looked at her. "I mean, imagine seeing Riley again but he's not really Riley, just a completely different person." A wave of silence washed over the two before Sam spoke up.
“If the part that made Riley, Riley, was gone,” Sam paused to collect his thoughts. “Then he’s gone for good.” Y/N didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t.
The pair sat in silence for a little bit until they went to find Steve, realizing it had been a while since he had left. They found him standing outside, staring off into the distance, deep in thought. Sam walked ahead of Y/N to speak to Steve.
"He's gonna be there, you know."
"I know." Steve kept his gaze focused on the view.
"Look, whoever he used to be and the guy he is now,” Sam took a breath. “I don't think he's the kind you save. He's the kind you stop." Y/N suddenly remembered the look she had seen in Bucky’s eyes. She knew that look, she’d experienced something similar herself.
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn’t know you.”
“You’re wrong Sam.” The men turned their heads towards Y/N as she continued to speak. “Everyone deserves to be saved. You’re the one who taught me that.” Sam sighed as Steve looked at them both with a curious look on his face. Y/N turned to Steve to explain.
“During one of our first rescue ops with the EXO-7 Falcon suits, I was flying over a forest when a sharpshooter managed to hit my pack in a vulnerable spot. I managed to land in a random forest, but unfortunately, it was near an uncover HYDRA base, one that wasn't known to S.H.I.E.L.D." Y/N crossed her arms, looked down at the ground and sighed before continuing. "The technology they used to make our suits was something HYDRA couldn't quite crack, so they took me captive to see if I would reveal anything useful to them."
Sam reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y/N looked up at him and gave a soft smile, before returning her attention to the ground. "Of course I kept my mouth shut, but even if I wanted to tell them anything, I couldn't. The Air Force just told us how to fly them, nothing else. So HYDRA did what HYDRA does best." Steve had a feeling he already knew what to expect but continued to watch and listen to her. "They roughed me up pretty good," Y/N said as she lifted up her shirt, just enough, to reveal a long scar on the side of her abdomen. "Something to remember them by." She pulled down her shirt and let out a soft chuckle. Her eyes shifted up to meet Steve’s, him silently encouraging her to continue. "I was there for about a month before Sam and Riley managed to find me. We ended up losing a couple of teammates along the way. For months, I felt so much guilt, like it was my fault that I ended up in that situation and that I didn't deserve to have made it out."
Y/N smiled at Sam. "But Sam and Riley were the ones who helped me get through it all. Reminded me that I was a victim and deserved to be saved. That what happened to me wasn't my fault." She turned to face the two men. "Bucky, in some way that we don't know yet, is being held captive right now. He's doing things he clearly wouldn't normally do." Her eyes focused on Sam's. "He deserves a chance to be saved, Sam." Sam let out a sigh before nodding. Steve gave Y/N a hug, whispering a thank you in her ear, before pulling away to face the two of them.
"Let's gear up. It's time."
"You gonna wear that?" Sam asked, looking at Steve’s civilian clothes.
"No. If you're gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform."
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you've caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections?
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: yandere, obsession, stalking, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.
Bucky Barnes x Female!Addict!Reader: Tastes a Little like Freedom, a Little like Fear [Ch. 13]
Summary: [Name] has finally got her life on track. She’s been clean a year, has a full time job, and recently moved into an apartment that is actually fit to live in. To prove something to herself, she visits the Smithsonian exhibit on Captain America…only to run into someone a little familiar. Adopting a fellow addict is one thing. Accidentally adopting a recovering brainwashed Nazi super soldier is another. [Name]’s life is about to run off track worse than ever before, but there could be a reward at the end if she can just hang on for the bumpy ride.
Challenge: “100 Drabbles Adventure” challenge by SubtleQuirk on Lunaescence Archives.
Ratings/Warnings: M (foul language, sexual references, references to previous drug addiction and continued struggles with drug addiction, torture, mind control, dehumanization, threatening behavior of a man towards a woman)
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Tag List: @chipilerendi, @noiralei, @mycosmicparadise, @aya-fay
Tastes a Little like Freedom, a Little like Fear Master List
Chapter 13: Pride
“Shit!” he swore, just as he tried to rise from his seat.
This was a bad idea. His damn legs nearly gave out on him. Before he fell, he managed to scrabble at the nearest hard surface, catching himself right before hitting the floor. He tasted blood; his lips had split open from the violence of his swearing, and he could see his breath crystallizing in the air in front of him. Shivers wracked his body, and he was cold, so cold.
A hard blink dispelled this vision. The tear in his lip disappeared, though his mouth now felt like cotton, like the frost had got stuck in there, unwilling to enter the warm, stuffy kitchen. But the trembling had not stopped. He shivered and shuddered, fingers slipping against the slick wood of the table as he attempted to keep himself upright.
So they could pull him back that easily.
He let out a long, uneven breath. Shit. No. No. He was a person. Bled just like the rest of them. Froze just like the rest of them. God, why was he so cold? His breath was stuck in his chest. They couldn’t have him back. He would not go back.
Thin arms snaked around his torso. He felt his chest seize underneath them. Unthinkingly, he released his slipshod grip on the table. For one glorious moment, the results were exactly as he’d planned: The arms did not have the strength to hold him up on their own. Heave as they might, they simply couldn’t keep him there. Then he went crashing onto the tile floor, right on top of his flesh arm.
“Are you okay?”
He looked up, slightly startled to hear a familiar voice. Of course. Of course he wasn't on the side of some mountain. He was still stuck in the crappy apartment. Where else was he supposed to go? They were everywhere looking for him, waiting for him. But when she knelt next to him, worry plain in her eyes, he wondered if it might have been worth it to be on his own if he just didn’t have to see that expression on that face ever again.
Her fingers fluttered so close as to nearly brush his shoulder. If this was on purpose, she realized the folly of such action just in time, stopping herself a mere millimetre short.
“I’m so–I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” she asked.
“Do I look alright to you?” he snarled.
God, she’d almost touched him, or rather the hunk of metal grafted to his shoulder. Surely it felt as cold to the touch as the rest of him ought to have been. She’d feel it; she’d know. He’d already screwed up enough to make her suspicious. Maybe she was stupid, but no one was that stupid. Then again, if she did manage to piece everything together, he could just snap her neck before she had the chance to call anyone. It would probably take a few days for her little friends to come hunting for her. He could be out of the country and hidden by then.
“Hey…” she began.
“Leave me alone!" he snapped. "Can’t you see I want to be alone?”
This was not strictly true. It wasn’t like he’d had to follow her home. No memories and no company made for lonely living, it had found. He had found.
The chill was in his very bones. He curled ludicrously in on himself, as though that would somehow crack the ice in his veins. A high whine filled his ears. Now that he was conscious, it was becoming more painfully obvious by the second what effect the past three days had had on him. His chest and side felt a little better, somehow, but the rest of him felt fit to explode. No sleeping, no moving, no bathroom breaks. Really? She didn’t have enough brain cells to rub together to suggest he take a piss? Not that he wanted to spend the short remainder of his life following “suggestions,” but in this case…
“What are you doing?” Her panicked voice cracked above the whine. “Is this a seizure? Should I call Kat? Stop! Please stop. Oh–just–where’s my phone?”
Her frantic step didn’t get her very far. His metal hand clamped around her ankle.
“Don’t. Call. Anyone,” he growled, and as he did, the droning stopped. Oh. That had been coming out of him? No time to consider that. He tightened his grip and yanked, causing her to stumble in his direction. “Don’t call.”
She tried to get her foot back. When that failed, she shot him her fiercest look, the kind she seemed to normally save for insults to her scrambled eggs. “You’re sick!” she said.
“I’m not!” he insisted. He kept his voice down, though. No reason to get the neighbors riled up. She'd said it herself.
“You’re shaking on my floor and whimpering like a kicked dog,” she shot back, still trying to squirm out of his grasp. “I saw your injuries. It’s a miracle you’re even alive.”
Maybe not so much a miracle. Not when compared to everything else he’d been through. When your insides and outsides were twisted as badly as his were, an aircraft carrier crashing on top of you was nothing. He’d take that over going back in the damn chair any day. No, he would not be distracted. She was still twisting around.
Kick. Kick. Kick. She was free. Panting, but free. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
He was too out of breath to protest. Every inch of him trembled with the effort of keeping himself together. The pain in his bladder and head was tremendous, and his sudden terror wasn’t helping. No. Dammit, no. He had not come this far only to be retrieved by whichever one of them was playing EMT today. If he set one foot inside a hospital, he knew that would be the end of it. No more playing hooky. And as nice as this woman was–sometimes, maybe, if unintentionally–he was not going to give up his freedom in exchange for hers. It had come down to it: She would have to die.
But he did not want to kill her. Every second took her further away from him and closer to the phone, wherever she had put that. He could barely hear his own thoughts above his speeding breath. It did not seem possible that he could have both. How could she live and he not die? How could he survive and let her continue existing?
“N-No. Stop. P-please. Please.”
God, he hated to hear the words coming out of his mouth, almost as much as that mortifying cry from earlier. He didn’t beg. He had begged enough. How many years of his existence had been spent on his knees by now? There was nothing that he owed this lady that should have required him to beg. If they got him back, though, he’d be doing a lot worse than begging. That was for sure.
“What was that?” Her head popped back into his sight.
Relief flooded through him so swiftly than he tried to scramble to his feet. This, unfortunately, did not work particularly well, and at her frown, he thought he had lost everything just then. She hadn’t moved yet, though. There was still time.
“P-please,” he said again. Still on his knees. This was enough for them, sometimes, so surely it would enough for her. She wasn’t like them. She’d fed him and let him sleep on her couch. She’d even worried about him after he had threatened to hurt her. He knew more about her than she expected, too. The journal underneath the stack of book underneath the coffee table. He knew what she wanted. He could be that something. “I need help.”
“I know you need help. That’s why I’m calling the hospital.” Her back turned to him again.
He tried to follow after her, but his body just wouldn’t cooperate. Even crawling was too difficult. He got maybe three paces before collapsing once more.
“I–can’t–please.” Tears rolled down his face, again. He couldn’t let this happen, though. Whatever it took. “I can’t leave yet. Not right now. Please.”
Her fear had become replaced with suspicion. He hated that, hated even more that her fear had been for him, not of him.
“What do you mean you can’t leave right now?” Some of the color left her face, leaving her paler than before. “Are you in trouble?”
“Yes!” She understood, thank god. “Yes, but–but I don’t want to be. I promise. They’re after me. I just want to leave. I–” This clearly wasn’t convincing her. Her eyes were only getting bigger and bigger as he went on. She thought, he recalled, that he was on drugs. “I’ll go,” he said, trying to sound less crazy, knowing all the while that he wasn't going to manage. “I’ll go myself. Just give me time.”
There was a very, very long pause. He could feel each excruciating beat of his heart. Could she see right through him? She wasn’t going to say yes, was she? She was going to wipe her hands clean of him. Maybe they’d even come by, give her a nice reward for the return of their favorite plaything. Only one thing left, then.
“Look in my bag,” he whispered urgently. She hesitated. The next please on his lips didn’t have to come out. Seeing it, she sighed and walked over to where said bag still sat on the carpet next to the couch. She threw him a look, which he answered only with, “the big pocket on the right. Unzip it.”
Another pause, but then she did as she was told. He held his breath until he saw her eyes nearly bug out of her face. Safe, then. He had to be. If that didn’t convince her, nothing probably would.
no cause… big bad bucky who has a soft spot for you. meanie bucky who always melts when you play with his hair. bad boy bucky who sometimes like to be the big spoon. bucky, who’s deeply in love with you.
Imagine This--Getting Engaged and Married to Daniel Brühl
Note: This is a work of fiction of two fangirls. We love and respcet Daniel's wife so this is just set in an alternate universe. Please enjoy and ignore any typos or grammatical errors as this was written in a haste.
This was written with @saturdaynightzemo!!!
As always, this contains content for the 18 and up crowd.
Daniel has been planning this moment for months and he wants it to be perfect! He’s looked around in stores looking for the perfect type of ring for you. Simple and timeless. Once he finds the perfect type of ring, he orders it online due to his celebrity status. The days leading up to the proposal, you notice that Daniel is acting weird and nervous. You ask him if he’s okay and he says yes. So you just brush it off as something to do with his new movie role.
Daniel takes you to the outskirts of whatever country he takes you. It has the most beautiful scenery and you are too busy taking pictures. Daniel is slowly falling more in love with you as he watches you. The ring burned a hole in his pocket. He talks of the future and possible future kids. His voice is so casual that you still have no idea what would happen.
So when he points to the sunset off in the distance, you think nothing of it and turn to look at it. When you turn back around, you see Daniel. Down on one knee, holding a beautiful ring. Simple. Timeless. Made just for you. There’s a shine in his eyes and a sweet smile on his face. He starts to confess how much he loves you and how he wants you for forever.
You tear up as he talks and seeing you tear up, so does Daniel. This is a moment the two of you never thought would ever happen. Finally in the softest voice, he asked “Will you marry me?” you say yes. Daniel jumps up, pulls you into his arms and kisses you. Then he gently places the ring on your awaiting finger and pulls you back into his arms. This time spinning you around. There’s happy tears from you both. He tells you that you won’t regret this and that he will make you that happiest woman alive.
The two of you have rented out a small cabin for the weekend. You two relish in happiness because you both know that when you enter the real world again, word will get out. People will want to be involved with it all. So you guys relax and have the most passionate engagement sex ever. It’s not rushed, but hours of pleasure.
The wedding is small and very intimate. Close friends and family. It’s on a beach side in the Maldives. You’re getting ready and your two bridesmaids help with everything. Making sure your nerves aren’t too much and making sure that the boys are all good too. You get into your soft, silk dress and once your dad sees you, he cries and holds you tight.
In another room, Daniel is a basket case of nerves. He can’t get his tie on and has his best man help with it. Same with the cuff links. He can't stop fidgeting with them or the tie. He drinks way too much water. His best man pulls him aside and helps him calm his nerves.
Once the ceremony starts, Daniel slowly gets nervous again. But all the nerves go away when he sees you walking down that aisle to him. Then he tears up because his future is literally walking it’s way to him. He gets weak in the knees and reaches out for this best man for support. You see Daniel all choked up and teary eyed that it makes you tear up. This man, you’ve waited forever for this man and you still couldn’t believe he was just a few feet away from you.
When the vows come around, you stumble your way through yours. The paper in your hand shakes. When it’s time for Daniel to say his vows, he stutters and stumbles his way through it. It’s deep and meaningful. It makes the both of you cry. The photographer who is seeing all of this, captures it all and is loving every second of it.
When the officiant declares you and Daniel husband and wife, the sun is setting perfecting over the ocean. You throw your arms around him and kiss him deeply. His arms wrap around your and he deepens it even more. The two of you get lost in the kiss until someone fake coughs and there are some small giggles. When the two of you pull away, there is cheering and clapping. But you and Daniel can’t take your eyes off each other.
During the small reception, you and Daniel sneak away for some private time. Daniel has you pressed up on a wall, kissing you deeply. Tongue brushing around inside your mouth. His hands hike up the fabric of your dress so he can feel the smoothness of your thighs. You fumble with his belt and pants. You have him in your hand and he picks up one of your legs and wraps it around his waist. Just as the tip is poking at your entrance, someone calls for you two for the first dance. As Daniel pulls away and fixes the two of you up, he whispers in your ear “Until next time Mrs. Brühl.”
During the first dance, Daniel can’t stop looking at you. There is so much love and happiness in them and it makes you smile bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. He leans down towards your ear and whispers things in German and Spanish, knowing that it’s a turn on for you.
The night ends with a small send off to one of the little beach cabins. Later that evening, Daniel drags you out, wrapped in nothing but a towel and takes you on the empty beach. And that's what you do for the next two weeks before returning to reality. Enjoying each other, drinking in each and every second.
I’ve been writing down some ideas to writings that I haven’t really seen on here, and sometimes, you have to write it yourself.
I hope I can provide wonderful work for you, enjoy.
Warnings: Pre-serum Steve /j, innuendos
Word count: 1.6k
You were walking to the diner with a few friends since it was getting quite late, and you all worked through lunch to get off early, meeting at the town center. There were four of you: Laura, who was married, but with a husband overseas, Mary, engaged and in the same boat, and then you and Lily-Ann, the singles. You all lived on the same street, and were now wearing the same outfit, basically. The only item that was different was the color of the attire.
The clicking of four pairs of heels sounded out in the semi-busy street as you all reached the restaurant, small, leather clutch in hand; You shut your umbrella before walking into the door and placed it inside the bin beside the entrance.
“What table do we want?” Laura asked, slipping off her coat and holding it folded over her arms. Mary looked around and started heading towards a window seat, still in the front.
“This one over here is just fine.” She smiled as you all took a seat.
Laughter immediately took over the table as Laura mentioned a cute, yet hilarious, story about her dog being scared of himself in the mirror. A waitress stepped in asking for drink orders first, and you all agreed on splitting a pot of coffee. Yes, it was late, but a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.
As Mary and Laura began to discuss their lovers’ absence, you and Lily-Ann drew on the napkins with a spare pen you had found in your purse. Small flowers and trees littered yours while Lily drew animals that you couldn’t begin to guess.
“A pot of coffee for you ladies, anything else?” The waitress asked while she placed small cups and plates on the table, causing a clinking sound.
Ordering was a little more hectic because Laura couldn’t decide, Mary was on a diet, Lily-Ann was allergic to almost everything, and you couldn’t decide between the many different wraps. After many different interesting sounds such as, “ummm,” and, “hmm,” you all placed your orders and told the waitress to split the check four ways.
“The coffee is a little dry.” Mary mentioned. You all turned your heads to look at her, confused.
“How is coffee, a liquid beverage, dry?” Lily-Ann asked, hand aimed at her while her elbow dug into the table.
“Because, the flavor is just-” Mary stops when the bell on top of the door rings, saying that someone has entered the diner. You all take sneaky glances to see who it was, and surprisingly, there was a soldier and a very small, scrawny man.
You turned back to your coffee, taking a sip, as if nothing interesting had happened.
“He’s cute,” Laura says with a smirk on her face, and Mary lets out an airy laugh, “wouldn’t you agree?” She finished, pushing her shoulder into yours. You run a finger around the rim of the cup, shrugging.
“Well, he’s looking at you.” She slipped in before also taking a sip of her coffee.
You heard their shoes hitting against the floor, and as you went to sneak a look, wondering if she was lying, he passed by the table, looking at you. Once your eyes met his, you snapped your head back towards the cup of coffee in front of you, embarrassed.
Your friends giggled at this.
Slowly, you looked back up, and behind Lily-Ann’s head, you could see the man staring at you.
“You should go talk to him.” Lily-Ann said, but you shook your head.
“There’s a difference between looking at you and full on staring.” You pointed out.
As you all finished your food, the two men long gone from your mind, you all got up to pay. The register was on the opposite end of the restaurant, and you all had to stand in line separately; this left you on the end.
“We’ll wait outside for you. Under the awning.” Mary said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You gave her a quick smile and pulled out your wallet. However, as you went to pull out the money, a hand stopped you.
“I’ve got it for you.” A voice says, and you turn to see the same man from before beside you. He had taken off his hat from his uniform to eat, so you could see his wonderfully styled hair. He was taller than you.
“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that, Sir.” You timidly let out, putting your money on the counter. He smiled and nodded his head.
“What if I paid for your next meal, but with me and you?” He asked, biting back a smug grin.
You paused. You were very wary when it came to dates and relationships, seeing as the last man you were with left for the army without telling you. That was something you two could argue about but then get over within a week, but it was the fact that he came back and kissed another woman; when you confronted him, he said that he had been writing to her this whole time and meant to send you a letter breaking things off.
“Well, I don’t even know your name.” You raised your chin up hoping he’d get the idea. At this point, the waitress stepped away to go service his friend he had left. The man placed his hand on your chin and guided it back down.
“I’m James Barnes. Now, I think I should know your name, right? It’s only fair.” He smiled. You stuck out your hand and with a quick shake, you gave him your name.
“Gorgeous. Now, about that dinner date.” He leaned on the counter, scooting closer to you.
You thought about it. What could one date hurt? He was attractive, especially in uniform.
“One date.” You give him a straight face, but it quickly turns into a smile when he lets out an excited, “yes!”
“Tomorrow at six?” He asked. You quickly thought about your plans for tomorrow, the weekend. You had a small engagement with the girls tomorrow, but you’re sure they won’t mind once you tell them the excuse.
“Tomorrow at six is wonderful.” You give him a winning smile, and place your money on the counter. You step up and give his cheek a kiss, and then you slowly walk back to the door, picking up your umbrella.
When you get outside, your friends are outside smoking away, except for Lily-Ann.
“Well, you took a little longer than we did.” She teased. You shook your head, and picked a cigarette from Laura’s pack.
“Got caught up at the register.”
“By a soldier.” They all let out a laugh. You all open your umbrellas and head out into the rain again while joking about the upcoming weekend and your plans. Finally, you all stop at the fountain, dreading leaving each other.
“I’m afraid I’ve made other arrangements this weekend.” You brought up, and they look at you, bewilderment running across their faces and a gasp leaving Mary’s mouth.
“With the soldier boy?” She hit your shoulder while laughing.
“His name is James.” You gushed, stomping out your cigarette. They all lean in as if you were telling the most sensitive secret to America.
“He wants to meet for dinner tomorrow at six, and I have no idea what to wear.” You rubbed your hand over your eye and sighed. Laura reached out for your hand and glided her thumb over the back of it.
“We’ll help you out.” She softly said, but it turned into a sneaky smirk when she looked behind you. Turning around you saw James and his friend walking towards the group.
“I’ll catch you girls tomorrow morning!” You shout before pulling Bucky and his friend to the side.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Steve.” You shook his outstretched hand as you two exchanged names. You turned back to James to ask why he came out to see you.
“I realized that I hadn’t asked you for a phone number.” He said as if it was obvious. You laughed and reached into your purse for your pen again.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have paper.” You apologized. His friend, Steve, stepped forward, pulling out a small napkin from his pocket.
“Thank you, Steve.” He sent you another small smile. You wrote down your number on the napkin and handed it back to him. He gratefully took it and put it in his front, uniform pocket.
You both waved goodbye, and they took off. You pursed your lips together and looked down at the ground. You started the walk home alone now that your friends had left early so you could talk with James.
“Wait!” Once again, James was walking, but more of a run this time, towards you. When he reached your confused form, he started to pant.
“I hope this doesn’t seem too impolite, and if it is, please, forgive me.” James rushed out before grabbing your waist with both hands and kissing you deeply causing your umbrella to slowly fall out of your grip.
After a moment, you two pulled away. Placing your hands on his chest, still very close to him, you looked up at him.
“No need to apologize, James.” You whispered out, hand smoothing over a patch on his uniform that was falling down.
“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.” You two shared a laugh, but the sky let out a roar reminding you two just what was going around you.
“I didn’t mean to let you get all wet.” He apologizes, shamelessly looking down at your soaking wet clothing.
“Well, let’s just say it’s a peak into tomorrow’s dinner.” You bit back a smile, and he threw his head back with a loud laugh.
Thank you for reading! I’m really excited to fill up that Masterlist for people :)
You arrived into the office bright and early, as usual. Your desk was in Fury’s office but today he was away on a mission to speak with General Ross after the Hulk decimated Harlem a couple of days ago. Something had gone wrong in some experiments that Fury refused to tell you about and SHIELD had been monitoring the situation until Harlem became cage-fight central. A few short words on the matter and Fury was gone, thankfully you were used to it. And it meant you could use his coffee machine.
As you sat typing at your computer, copying up some old notes the Director needed, you could hear shouting and running. The last time you’d heard shouting and running around this place it didn’t end well, so you dipped your head out the door. You grabbed a passing guy that you knew worked a few offices down “What the hell is going on?”
“Some guy just tried to steal the asset they found down in New Mexico, you know the one that caused all those atmospheric disturbances” he laughed. “They’re saying he’s some kind of alien!”
“Yeah! They’re expanding a containment facility down there.”
You followed him down the corridor to the big screen in the main hall where SHEILD wide messages were played. You could hear whispering.
“You really think he’s an alien or just some overly jacked cokehead?”
“They say he beat the living shit out of the all the agents at the facility so I don’t know.”
Then you saw it. Blazoned on the big screen at the front “Thor?” you whispered.
In front of you was a giant picture of a muddy, soaking wet and defeated Thor. What the hell was he doing down here?
“What happened?” you asked the person standing next to you, she just shrugged. Then you spotted Coulson in the background of the photo; Thor was going to be interrogated. A rush of adrenaline pulsed through you. You turned and half ran back to Fury’s office, you called Coulson directly.
“Director, lovely of you to call” Coulson’s strange melodic tone greeted you.
“What’s happened down there Coulson?”
“Ah, it’s you” his tone suddenly dropped down to suspicious. “Getting too involved again are we?” he quipped. You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing with that… guy down in New Mexico?”
Coulson sighed dramatically “We think he’s some kind of special ops, why he would be after this hammer thing is beyond me. We’re keeping him here for observation.”
“You can’t do that” you said suddenly, it came out a little louder than you intended and you cringed. “You can’t just hold him there, can you?” you corrected.
“Of course we can, he broke into our facility and somehow took down every guy in here like they were basic mall cops. I intend to find out how and why.”
“I’ll be on the next flight” you said, going to hang up the receiver and you heard his voice raise “No, you won’t. I don’t need you and you have no clearance.”
“Then GIVE me clearance!” you shouted.
“I can't, I’m afraid, enjoy your filing” and the line clicked dead. You grunted in frustration, slamming the receiver down. You needed to get your brother back before he said anything stupid, if he so much as hints he’s not from this world god knows what SHIELD will do. They’ll lock him up in a different kind of facility and pump him full of drugs, or something worse. Fury knew enough but if your stubborn brother in law opened his mouth SHIELD would know far too much of Asgard than you’d ever intended. You rubbed your temples, why was he even here? The thought dawned on you, what if he was here for you? To bring you home after all this time? What if something had happened to Loki?
Your head was spinning trying to figure out how you could get him out. Coulson was being pretty spot on about this; did that mean he was suspicious already?
You paced Fury’s office incessantly; no one knew about your energy, the Director had made it very clear that he would keep it to himself on the condition that you never used those powers again on Earth. He flat out threatened you with imprisonment if you did. Despite the fact that you could just storm the place and take your brother back home to Asgard, Coulson would have your ass if you ever came back to Earth. Not that you were sure you ever could if you left again.
Taking a steadying breath you grabbed your leather jacket from the coat stand in the corner. You knew what you had to do.
You drove your car out of Manhattan, breaking probably every speed limit you hit along the way. You made your way through Brooklyn to Floyd Bennet Field. You needed somewhere out of the way; it was late in the evening so it was relatively quiet where you pulled up. You waited until a few people had left before you got out of the car. Cold air whipped around you, blowing your hair in front of your face. You stood in a good open spot and looked up into the sky “Heimdall” you shouted into nothing. Silence followed.
“Heimdall, I know you can hear me!” you shouted again, carrying your voice over the wind “It’s time for me to come home, something’s happened hasn’t it?”
Silence followed again. You sighed and turned to walk back towards your car, and then a faint sizzle could be heard before the bolt hit the ground in front of you. Loud crackling and whooshing of air consumed you. You smiled upwards and winked. Stepping tentatively into the beam of light you felt yourself being pulled swiftly up.
It was time to go home.
Tag list: @saynotoshityouhate @desparadowrites@thegreattodd
Baby’s Firsts II: First Crib (Single Dad! Bucky Barnes x Roommate! Reader)
summary: y/n heads to Diane’s to pick up Dottie’s things
word count: 4109
warnings: this isn’t proofread, angst, sum fluff tho
a/n: woah this took a while to post
taglist is open
It was Wednesday; the day y/n was supposed to swing by her best friend’s ex girlfriend’s apartment to pick up the baby’s furniture and other belongings. She was fresh out the office building when she hopped into Sam’s pickup truck—she borrowed it to make transporting the baby’s things easier because there was no way she’d fit it all in her sedan.
When she found herself seated comfortably in the driver’s seat, she pulled her phone from her purse, dialing Bucky’s contact on her phone. It took some time for him to get to the phone, but when he finally did, the first thing she could hear was the sound of Dottie’s wails, forcing her to flinch away from the phone for a second.
“Hiya, Bucky. Can you hear me?” she questioned, putting the phone on speaker mode and holding it away from her ear.
“Loud and clear,” she could hear him respond before he continued on with the shushing noises in an attempt to lull the baby to sleep.
“So, I just got out of work. You remember that agreement we had, right? With me going over to Diane’s place to pick up the baby’s stuff?” she questioned, earning a soft hum of acknowledgement from Bucky before she continued, “Okay, so I forgot what unit and floor she stays at, but I’m pretty sure I know which building it is.”
“And you’re sure you remember the building?”
“Of course, I do! It’s the one with the food truck we used to go to, right?” y/n sounded so sure of herself until Bucky let out a chuckle. It was then her confidence in her statement faltered.
“It’s not that one,” Bucky chuckled, “The building’s the one near the hotdog stand we used to go to after college. The one still kind of near my office building. Also, the unit’s 24B,” Bucky responded before letting out a small sigh, “Also, the one with the food truck’s Nat’s building.”
“Right. Thanks. I’ll see you later. Just, uh, hang in there, I guess?” she giggled, hanging up on Bucky and driving all the way to Diane’s apartment complex. She didn’t have the best memory about who lived where, but she sure as hell knew her way around the directions to places she’d labelled ‘the place with the hotdog cart’ or ‘the place with that one bench I fell off of’. Of course, despite her navigation skills, New York traffic held her back 45 minutes before she arrived at the apartment.
There, she parked the truck, signed her name at the lobby—because apparently, that was something she had to do even if she was just there to visit—and made her way up to Diane’s place. It was only then that the awkwardness of the situation really began to hit her; did Diane even know she was coming? With how busy her best friend had been with the baby, she doubted that Bucky somehow managed to make a phone call to his ex-girlfriend to tell her his friend was coming over to pick up the remnants of the life they almost shared.
y/n was the middleman in this situation and she knew it. Was she fine being the middleman? She didn’t really know and she had no plans to figure out how she felt about it all. She had no plans to explore the part of her that felt unease just to be standing in front of Diane’s apartment complex. She was fine with not thinking about the situation she found herself in.
She reached unit 24B and brought her fish to knock against the wood of the door. It took her a bit of waiting, but the door swung open to reveal a disheveled Diane Cooper standing in the doorway.
Diane and y/n both had a civil relationship with each other. Diane was Bucky’s girlfriend and y/n understood that. One may have even went as far as to say they were both friends. But in that moment, as she stood in front of Diane, y/n didn’t feel like they were friends. y/n’s protectiveness over Bucky made her want to snap at Diane.
“I’m here to pick up…I think you know what I’m here to pick up,” y/n spoke awkwardly, scratching her arm as Diane wordlessly moved away from the doorway, allowing y/n entry into the apartment. She looked around the familiar surroundings, taking note of how there weren’t any baby items to be seen anywhere in the apartment.
“Everything should be in that room. Also, I packed away all of the other things that weren’t in the room to make things easier for you. Also, James’ things are all packed in the room too so neither of you will have to make another trip here to pick those up,” Diane stated curtly as y/n’s brows furrowed. Damn, so Diane really did want nothing to do with either Bucky or Dottie.
“Since when did you call him James?” y/n questioned, tilting her head at Diane—a habit she picked up from her office friend, Wanda. This woman was over at the apartment she shared with Bucky a lot and every time she was there, she never called Bucky by his first name. It was always “Bucky” or a cheesy pet name or nickname.
“I didn’t think it would be right to call him Bucky. It’s just weird, y’know?” the blonde responded and y/n shook her head, dismissing the entire conversation. She had to plans of arguing with her best friend’s ex-girlfriend, so she opted to make her way into the room where the baby’s belongings were supposed to be.
She found herself in what would have been Dottie’s nursery; the pale pink walls, the elegantly carved white-painted crib in the center of the room, a few toys scattered in different places in the room, and all the amenities a baby would need. y/n didn’t even bother trying to name anything in the room, not wanting to confuse herself any further.
y/n wondered how she would fit everything in the truck. She didn’t have to completely empty out the room, did she? Well, she probably could have fit the furniture in the truck. The rest was a matter of how she would have been able to fit all the little things. Was she supposed to bring the baby’s cabinet too?
‘Thank god for the internet,’ she thought to herself, whipping her phone out her pocket to pull up a quick google search for a list of necessary things needed to care for a baby. She definitely wasn’t expecting to read through the long list of things.
First, she found herself reading through the list of what should’ve been in the hospital bag—it was a good way to start off with what to pack considering those items most likely would have been the baby’s immediate needs. After that, there was the list of things a baby would need in their diaper bag, which would be the baby’s needs outside the house. Spoiler alert; turns out diapers aren’t the only things that are supposed to be kept in a diaper bag. Of course, she found herself googling the necessities for a baby nursery.
Sure, they didn’t have a nursery in their apartment, but she figured Bucky would’ve appreciated it either way if she brought along as much as she could so he wouldn’t have to worry about buying anything they already had.
As some point, y/n started to pack everything in the shelves into carboard boxes—Diane was nice enough to drop by the room to give them to her—to make them easier to pack into the truck and travel with.
It didn’t take her long to get everything sorted out. She was a magazine editor, after all. Efficiency and organization were two of the things that got her far in her workplace.
“So, I borrowed a luggage cart thing from downstairs to help with everything,” Diane peeked into the room, pulling along an arched luggage trolley. y/n wasn’t sure if her eyesight was failing her, but she could swear she saw an ounce of regret fall upon Diane’s sculpted features as she entered the now-emptied out room.
“Oh,” y/n’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the trolley. Well, it was definitely a kind and very helpful gesture, “I mean, you really didn’t have to do that at all, but thanks.”
“Just let me know if you need anything else,” Diane flashed a small smile as she left the room pretty quickly. y/n liked that about Diane; she was good to Bucky throughout the whole relationship and well, in y/n’s opinion, Diane was a pretty nice person. Of course, that didn’t stop her from holding a grudge against Diane for abandoning both Bucky and Dottie.
y/n didn’t need much more of Diane’s help considering the fact that the ec-eyed girl nearly finished packing up the whole room. The only thing left for her to accomplish was to transport everything back to the apartment so she could get some rest.
Of course, she had to stop by Sam’s office to have him bring her car back to the apartment complex, then help her bring everything else up to the apartment. Despite being one of the strongest people y/n knew—as his roommate, she knew he frequented the gym in his free time—Bucky would be useless with lifting boxes whilst having to take care of a three-day-old baby.
Besides, y/n didn’t want to have to be responsible for the baby. What if she dropped Dottie while Bucky was bringing up boxes? She couldn’t have that on her conscience. Instead, she opted for lifting the boxes and stuff and bringing them up to the apartment.
After bidding farewell to Diane, y/n made it into the elevator without accidentally bumping into anyone or anything with the luggage trolley. She was rather proud of herself for that considering the fact that the huge trolley—packed with heavy loads of baby furniture, clothes, and toys—was difficult to control and impaired her vision. She couldn’t exactly tell which direction she was moving in.
She knew she must have been doing something right when she somehow made it to her parking space to pack everything into the back of the pickup truck. Hell, she even took the time to go the extra mile to make sure everything was tied down and strapped firmly onto the truck to prevent anything from falling out onto New York streets.
‘That would be a funny thing to tell Bucky’, she thought to herself, laughing as she took a look at everything neatly secured in the back of the truck. She made her way into the front seat of the car, then ringing Sam’s phone to tell him she was heading to his office.
“Are you somehow in the ER? Are you okay? Wait, is the car okay?” were the questions she was greeted with as Sam picked up the phone. y/n let out a small chuckle, knowing she had a ‘history’ with road accidents.
Well, two very minor accidents didn’t necessarily count as history to her, but apparently, it definitely counted as a history with accidents to all her friends who knew about how she could get whenever she was behind the wheel.
“No, I’m not in the ER. Yes, I’m okay. And yes, your car is fine and intact. Is mine?” y/n questioned, hearing Sam scoff jokingly from the other side of the line.
“It never was; you had a scratched-up bumper before I even got my hands on your keys. But if your question is whether or not I got your car in an accident in the ten hours I’ve had it, the answer’s no,” Sam responded as y/n let out a shrug Sam couldn’t exactly see.
“Oh, that’s great! I’ll meet you outside the office building?”
“You know you could just go straight to the apartment, right? You don’t really have to wait for me at the office,” Sam questioned as y/n chuckled.
“Yes, but I felt like dragging you with me to the apartment so I could have immediate help with bringing everything up just as soon as I get there,” y/n smiled bashfully to herself, “So, I’ll see you later, okay?”
“I’ll see you there,” he responded, ending the call and allowing y/n to make her way towards his office.
The ride to Sam’s office didn’t take too long. Hell, they barely even “met” with each other. y/n and Sam just waved at each other at the parking lot before making their way back into their own cars—Sam insisted that he could now be the one to drive his car as y/n had already picked up the baby’s things at Diane’s apartment—and y/n let out a sigh of relief as she settled into the familiar leather seat of her own car.
The trip from Sam’s office to the apartment wasn’t too bad either. At that point, they both got used to the New York traffic. They drove their cars into the designated parking spaces allotted for the residents of Bucky and y/n’s shared apartment.
“Do you think they’d let me borrow one of those trolley things?” y/n questioned, turning to Sam with a curious expression on her face as she remembered how Diane was allowed to borrow a luggage trolley from her apartment complex.
“I don’t think your apartment complex would let you borrow anything that isn’t in your apartment, but it’s worth a try. It would definitely help us with all this,” Sam nodded at y/n who gave him a confused expression.
“Bucky and I pay too much in rent to just not be allowed a trolley. Besides, they let me borrow one from when Bucky and I were just moving into the apartment. They can’t just not let us use a trolley again with all the shit we have here,” y/n shook her head, memories of when she and Bucky first moved into the apartment. Things were so much simpler back then.
Bucky and y/n had lived together since their college years. The landlady—Mrs. Jones—introduced them to each other, telling them that they were roommates. The pair got so used to living with each other that a few years into the workforce, when y/n brought up the idea of moving out of the apartment, she asked Bucky if he would have wanted to come along. They’d become great friends at that point.
“Why’d you need me here if you could’ve just used a trolley? Do you need help with anything else? Are you trying to set up another intervention for Bucky?” Sam questioned raising a brow at y/n, who shrugged.
“First of all, I only did that once when the topic of babies first came up between Diane and Bucky. I have no plans of setting up another intervention now the little blanket burrito’s actually a human being who lives in the apartment now. Second, trolley’s are difficult to work with. I kind of still need your help with this because when I used one over at Diane’s apartment, I struggled,” y/n chuckled, “You can probably work on unstrapping everything from the truck while I get the trolley.”
It didn’t take her long to walk back to the parking lot with a trolley. After all, all she had to do was request a trolley from the lobby, show her card to prove she was a resident, and boom, trolley.
She and Sam were both quick to pack everything onto the trolley; they were losing daylight, after quick and they were both exhausted. When they finished, the pair made their way up to the elevator and into the apartment using y/n’s key.
As expected, they were met with the sight of Bucky trying to lull and cradle his crying daughter.
“We got the baby’s stuff!” y/n proclaimed proudly, peeking over at Bucky from behind the trolley as she and Sam worked to get it into the apartment.
“Thank you. You guys can just leave everything and I’ll just bring it all in my room later,” he smiled thankfully as y/n raised a brow at Bucky, as though to question his statement.
“Your room? All this stuff was packed into a whole nursery and you’re just going to keep all this in your room?” y/n’s brows furrowed as Bucky shrugged nonchalantly.
“I don’t want Dottie’s stuff just around the apartment. I didn’t exactly think you’d like that,” Bucky insisted as y/n was quick to shake her head in response.
“Absolutely not. Nope. You’re not isolating all the baby’s stuff to your room. This is our apartment. Look, I have an office and a bedroom here. You should be allowed to keep the bottles and stuff in the kitchen, the toys and a mat in the living room, and everything else. The only things you should have in your room’s the stuff the baby needs for sleeping. The baby’s clothes too, I guess. Please, feel free to use the entire apartment however you want to. You’re my friend and I want what’s best for you,” y/n insisted before her expression deadpanned, “Now, please, pacify your child.”
Wordlessly, she made her way into her room for a nap, leaving both Sam and Bucky in the living room to do whatever it was they wanted to do together.
She woke up hours later, the darkness completely engulfing her room, and according to her alarm clock, it had been two in the morning. She took a moment to herself before realizing how quiet the apartment was. Bucky finally got his daughter to sleep.
She made her way into the kitchen, preparing to make herself a snack, when she spotted Bucky sprawled out tiredly on the couch.
“Hey,” she greeted him, plopping down next to him on the couch.
“So, you finally got your little blanket burrito to sleep?” she quipped as Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he nodded.
“I did. I got her in the crib for the first time too without her making a fuss about it too or anything,” he responded before smiling, “Do you want to see her?”
y/n’s brows furrowed before she shrugged, “Sure, why the hell not?”
They headed into Bucky’s bedroom where the crib was placed right next to the bed. y/n smiled to herself at the sight. Despite all the screaming and crying, she found Dottie to be pretty cute. Of course, that didn’t refute the fact that she didn’t like kids, but who knew what the future held for them? Maybe she’d make an exception for Dottie.
After a moment of standing there, y/n grew bored at staring at the sleeping newborn, “Do you wanna order food or something? I’m hungry.”
“I don’t think there’s anything open at this hour, y/n,” Bucky reminded her as y/n groaned.
“Fine. Do you want to microwave some leftovers and eat with me?” she offered, “Or you can just sit at the kitchen and watch me eat. Same difference.”
“Sure thing, let’s go,” he chuckled, following her out to their kitchen, watching as she looked through the leftovers in the fridge before she settled on microwaving leftover pizza.
“How’s Diane?” Bucky questioned as y/n set the microwave timer. Her expression soured at the sound of Diane’s name. Of all the things he could’ve been worried about, he was worried about Diane?
“Oh, she’s okay, I guess? She helped me pack a bit so that’s fun,” y/n responded nonchalantly as Bucky nodded slowly as though to urge her to talk more about her encounter with Diane, “She actually had everything outside the nursery that was baby-related in boxes already.”
“Just everything that’s baby-related?” Bucky questioned as y/n’s jaw clenched, “You aren’t going to talk about the box with all my things in it either?”
“Bucky, please don’t try this shit with me right now,” y/n huffed, already sensing something building up within Bucky. She knew he had a habit of keeping his feelings inside until he physically couldn’t take it anymore and blows up on whoever’s closest.
“What’s wrong with me, y/n?” Bucky questioned, slumping down in his seat and burying his face in his palms. y/n’s gaze softened as she sat in the seat next to his, placing her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Buck. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” y/n shook her head as Bucky’s bloodshot eyes peered into hers.
“Then why couldn’t I get Diane to stay? How come it was so easy for her to get rid of me? It’s been three days, y/n! Three days and she already got rid of any traces of me from her apartment,” Bucky sighed, “What else could I have done?”
“Nothing! Bucky, I swear to god, the problem isn’t with you. Diane, she made her choice, okay? And that choice happened to just involve you...and like affect you really really badly, but at the end of the day, it was her choice, Bucky. I don’t want you moping around asking yourself what’s wrong with you because there is absolutely nothing wrong with you!”
“Then why can’t I take care of my own daughter? Why is it that every time I hold her, she cries. Why can’t I just get her to calm down?” Bucky cried out, exasperated. y/n couldn’t exactly blame him for all the mixed emotions he was feeling in that moment. He got dumped by his girlfriend of 3 years and now he has to raise their baby.
“Dottie’s fine, Bucky! That little blanket burrito’s okay. Babies cry, it’s natural. You’re trying your best to take care of her, okay? You’re keeping her well-fed, she’s asleep, and she’s still alive. I’d say you’re doing pretty great,” y/n insisted, leaning her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his large frame.
“Okay, then why’d Diane leave?”
“Not this again, please. Bucky, you’re literally the ideal man for anyone. You’re hardworking, you’re smart, you’re this amazing human being, you’re…not ugly, and you have a pretty cool best friend. See? You’re doing great!” y/n exclaimed, a bashful grin on her face.
“I mean, Steve’s not exactly as cool as you say he is,” Bucky quipped as y/n rolled her eyes.
“Gee, I’m glad you’re feeling better already, Barnes. It’s been an absolute honor to cheer you up and get a ‘Steve’s not as cool as you say he is’ in response,” y/n rolled her eyes sarcastically, “Now, stop crying, you’re going to ruin the pizza mood.”
“Cheese and some other pizza toppings are salty enough as it is, they don’t need your tears, Bucky,” y/n rolled her eyes sarcastically, pulling out the pizza from the fridge and handing Bucky a slice, “Are you doing better?”
“I guess so? I mean it’s all just so overwhelming, you know?”
“I understand that, and I’m all here for you, but dude, have you just been bottling all this up for the past three days?” y/n questioned, concern lacing her features as Bucky gave her a sad smile.
“I mean, I guess so? Sam’s busy with work, you were busy with whatever you were doing in your office, and Steve’s in England with Peggy. Do you want me to continue on with the list?” Bucky raised a brow sarcastically.
“Sam’s a therapist, he’s literally qualified to talk to you about your problems, and you can make an appointment if he really is that busy. We live together, you can literally approach me at any time. Steve’s been your friend since childhood and when I say that man will jump onto a plane and head back here if you asked, I mean it. Do you want me to continue with the list?” y/n mocked Bucky’s expression before sighing, “Bucky, my point is that you can’t just keep all this bottled up. Everybody in our friend group, we’re here for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Bucky sighed as y/n shook her head.
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. Don’t apologize for being human. Don’t apologize for all these emotions you’re having after all the things that happened to you in the past week, Buck. Trust me, I’m here for you.”
Bucky gave a soft smile before chuckling, “So, if I asked, you’d change Dottie’s diapers.”
“You may be my best friend, and Dottie may be a cute kid, but there is no way in hell you’re getting me to change any diapers. I’m here for emotional support, Barnes.”
“Thanks for that and everything else you’ve helped me with in the past week. I owe you.”
Warnings: Mention of the Winter!Soldier, violence/gore, mention of kn!ves
I woke up in a dark room. It was freezing. The coldness made my bones shiver: making me even more confused. A feeling ran through me, making me realize that my arm wasn’t the same. I remember: my arm was replaced by a vibranium one when I fell off the train. I was supposed to be metallic, but it wasn’t.
The soft skin of my missing member felt abnormally real. The dim light of the room reflected on it, making it look even more real. As I tried to stand up, my body felt trapped in between straps. Pulling on them didn’t do anything, only making me hurt myself.
I heard a loud noise coming out of somewhere around the room. A bright light appeared, blind me quite a bit. Everything was fuzzy in my mind, as if I woke up from a dream. “Finally. You really are a deep sleeper.” A thick British accent spoke.
Could it be? Agent Carter?
I turned my head, but there was no one. For a second, I thought I was going crazy, until I heard the voice again. “Sergeant Barnes?” Another voice popped in this time, it was soft and fluttery, almost like the voice of my first love, Y/N.
“Sergeant Barnes, we need your report.” The supposed Y/N appeared again. “Show yourself first.” I spoke loudly, not expecting the echo of the room to make my ears hurt.
“Your report.” The voice changed again. It now sounded like a Russian person. I felt glimpses of pictures moving in front of my eyes. They looked almost like memories, I could see people laughing, friends, soldiers, battles, war, guns, violence and so many things. One second, I was in 1943, the next I was in another century, but there was still a common element. Y/N was always there.
I tried to remember anything about my past, but only her would come up.
A very beautiful song came up through the club. I looked up to Y/N: hoping she would realise it was our song.
We always had this thing together, ever since I had met her. She was Steve’s sister, a few years older than him. She was trying to protect him when a taller guy punched him for no reasons. I was always there to stop the people who would attack him, but this time, she had gotten into it.
“Steven! Let go of him, you sick bastard!” She kicked his attacker in the back of the knee, only earning a fist on her jaw. She dropped on the ground, but got back up to show him a lesson. With luck, I pushed him away, looking at both of them. Steve stood up and went to look at her sister.
She was bleeding, her lips had a deep cut in it. I offered her my hand, as she gladly took it. “Are you alright?” I asked her softly, she nodded.
I both offered them to go to my apartment, but Steve went to the recruitment posts, still hoping to get into the army. She followed me to my appartement, clinging at my arm. I could tell that she was scared.
“Don’t worry, love. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” I whispered by her ear. She nodded and slipped her hand into mine. I gladly accepted the gesture, keeping her closer to myself. We entered my apartment, as I made her sit on a chair. I grabbed a first aid kit, honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing. I lowered myself to her lever, looking deeply into her eyes.
“Do it hurt?” I asked her softly, trying not to startle her. “Not really. I’ve handled much worse, really.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to hurt you even more. This will sting a little.” I passed a disinfecting cloth on her lip, she winced at first, adjusting to the pain. I grabbed her face in my hand, getting more control to help her. After I had taken care of her, I walked towards my phonogram, playing a song I would soon recognize as our.
“Dance with me. It’ll make you feel better.” She laughed a bit, before taking my hand as I took her in my embrace. I could feel her heartbeat slow down, still swaying to the music.
“Y/N. May I have this dance?” I asked her, as I stood up from my seat. She didn’t have that cut anymore. Steve was now Captain America, and I was just the best friend. But it felt different with her,
“You certainly may, James.” She knew I loved it when she called me by my real name. Most people called me Sergeant Barnes or for Steve, Bucky, James felt personal with her. Her body pressed on mine was heavenly. I looked down to her, swaying to the beat and kissed her right on our favorite part, I didn’t care if Steve was looking, he knew that I would never take advantage of her, nor ever hurt her,
We separated, and just looked at each others' eyes. “I love you, James.” “And I love you, Y/N.”
“Soldat.” Her voice made me shed another tear. Another past memory where I couldn’t feel her, where she wasn’t there.
Another man stepped into the room. He stared for a moment, then talked into another language.
A rage inside of me bottled up only by these words. My thoughts weren’t my own. Those words ached like acid inside my chest. The restrains on my limbs were loose and without realising it, I was pulling them off and attacking the false Y/N.
Anything I’ve ever felt for her just went away by a matter of seconds. She was the enemy. I had to complete my mission. Next thing I know, I heard a distant scream, mixed with sobs from the back of my head. The poor voice was begging: begging to have mercy and to remember them. “Please. James, stop. Please.”
A pulse of electricity activated another function in me. And then,
I woke up.
“Please. James, stop. Please.” I didn’t see the impostor, only my Y/N. I was holding a dagger not far from her head. Tears filled up my eyes. The dagger fell from my grip, looking at her. She was scared out of her mind; her eyes were red and teary.
“I’m so sorry. I-I-I’m so sorry.” I almost fell out of consciousness when I had realized what I had done.
She stood up, took my shoulders, and pushed me into her chest. Sobs came out of my mouth involuntarily, she shushed me, soothing my back. I cringed to her, hoping she would forgive me anytime soon. “I’m so sor- “
“It’s okay, love. It’s okay. It wasn’t you.” She pulled my head from her shoulder and made me look at her. “They’ll go away.” I knew she knew that I had nightmares. I could face her gaze after almost killing her, but she forced me to look at her.
“I love you for all that you are, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, and that includes your past, present and future. Don’t hide from me, please.” I nodded, kissing her gently on the forehead.
“Don’t leave me, not like Steve did.” “I will never, J. I promise.”
“God, I don’t know what I would do without you, Y/N.” She smiled, kissing my knuckles lovingly.