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duckybarnes1917 · 2 years

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The Gang Joins A Cult

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo

18+ Only.

Happy spooky season! As the title hints, this story idea was conceived while watching an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (Season 5 episode 4) and as always, once I started writing it took on a life of its own. This story is my first attempt at m/m smut, limited 3rd person pov, and suspense/horror so I hope you enjoy it and please comment/reblog if you do!

Happy Halloween! 🎃

Word count: 7646

Summary: Bucky is in love and while Sam's scary movie marathons don't scare him, admitting his feelings to the intimidating Baron Zemo terrifies him. Unbeknownst to Bucky, Zemo returns his feelings but is equally as scared and stubborn. While immersed in their game of chicken, the pair ends up at high society Halloween sex party and things get creepy fast.

Need to know: Angst, fluff, and smut. Horror? Weird things happen. Anal and oral m/m sex. Not a dom/sub relationship but Bucky is more dominate. Edging, begging, a slight daddy kink...Bucky and Zemo trying to be more annoying than the other. A dash of violence for fun.

Please do not copy or post this anywhere.

Cross posted on AO3.

“The house is not haunted; you’re just hearing things.” Bucky had argued with Sam about this for the past 3 weeks.

We’ve been in Zemo’s house for months now, and suddenly it’s haunted. Yeah, right.

“It could very well be haunted,” Zemo said matter of factly as he sipped his tea, “I’m sure many great relatives passed here.”

“I told you!” Sam shouted at Bucky as he left them alone in the living room to go to the kitchen.

The house was old; there were all kinds of sounds throughout the day and night, none of which bothered Bucky in the slightest.

What was bothering Bucky was Helmut Zemo. Not only was he egging Sam on about the supposed haunted house, but he was also a huge pain in Bucky’s ass. Not for his usual mischief; no, Bucky was used to that by now. Their relationship had evolved, and currently, Bucky was glaring at Zemo from the other room as he whispered to Sam about a date he might go on later that evening.

As if. No one is good enough for your highness, Baron Zemo.

Bucky quickly looked away as Zemo caught his gaze, an annoying smirk on his lips.

Bucky had been playing this game with Zemo for a long time now. He found the man utterly stunning, and he knew Zemo was attracted to him too (Bucky had found himself in heated makeout sessions with Zemo more than once). But they were both too stubborn to do anything about it. Bucky assumed Zemo wouldn’t want anything more from him than sex, and he was terrified to admit the serious feelings he was starting to develop for the Baron.

Better to push it deep, deep down.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Zemo felt the same way and just wanted Bucky to admit it first.

They danced around each other like cat and more stubborn cat.

Bucky suspected that Zemo wanted more out of their—more frequent—makeout sessions. He also suspected that Zemo was trying to make him jealous to get what he wanted. But he was just as patient as the former Colonel; he wasn’t going to give an inch.

Bucky patiently waited for Zemo to back out of his date; he just knew Zemo would come up with a flimsy excuse to stay home instead.

He’s just trying to get a rise out of me as usual. Right?

To Bucky’s annoyance, Zemo wasn’t dropping it. He asked Bucky to help him pick an outfit, making a show of changing in front of him. Bucky kept a laser focus on his cellphone, not actually seeing anything on the screen as he scrolled.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Finally, Zemo muttered something under his breath and slammed the bathroom door loud enough to make Bucky look up from his phone. Bucky smirked; he was getting under the Baron’s skin after all.

I give him 10 more minutes before he backs out of this stupid date.

Bucky went back to the living room and waited; his jaw tightened when Zemo came out of his bedroom, dressed to the nines and smelling divine. His hair was perfectly swept out of his eyes, and worst, he looked excited.

“Something the matter, James?” Zemo asked as he straightened his tie in the hallway mirror.

Bucky grimaced.

Bastard.

“Nope. Enjoy your date,” Bucky said as nonchalantly as possible before disappearing into his room.

He opened the dating app that Sam had downloaded onto his phone and scrolled through the many unread messages he had received. He just needed a distraction—someone that would make him forget Helmut Zemo even existed.

After scrolling through a dozen profile pictures that didn’t even contain the person’s face, he quickly gave up on that idea.

Okay, maybe that’s asking too much.

He opened a chat with the one person who had their face in their profile picture, though it was partially covered by a crimson masquerade mask. The man had sent Bucky 30 unread messages in the past day asking a series of odd questions and giving unsettling compliments. He looked like he was in his 20s, and Bucky figured he was harmless. He ignored the messages as usual and thought about deleting the app for probably the hundredth time since Sam had downloaded it.

Bucky came back out of the room, expecting Zemo to be gone. He smirked when he found Zemo still in the hall, staring at his door.

“You’re still here? Did you get stood up?” Bucky didn’t even try to sound genuine; he smiled through every word.

Zemo glared at him, “No, I’m just leaving now. Don’t wait up.”

Zemo slammed the door behind him, and Bucky cursed under his breath.

“Was that Zemo leaving? Man, I wanted to see who his date was.” Sam pouted as he came downstairs.

“Why? I’m sure he’s not much to look at.”

“Someone’s jealous,” Sam teased.

“For the millionth time, it’s not like that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

Sam laughed as he sat next to Bucky on the couch. “Scary movie?”

“Okay, but please, no teenage slasher nonsense.”

“Fine, how about something paranormal?”

Bucky shrugged, “whatever.”

Sam put on the movie, and Bucky zoned out; all he could think about was what Zemo was doing on his date.

Who is he with? It’s probably somebody of importance, maybe even someone famous. And who was I kidding—they are bound to be hot. Zemo wouldn’t settle for less.

When will he be home? What if he doesn’t even come home?

Would he have the audacity to bring the date back with him?

Sam jumped when the door suddenly banged open and closed. Bucky barely moved but perked up when he saw Zemo was back and alone.

“Holy shit, man, you can’t scare me like that!” Sam yelled, holding his chest where his heart was beating rapidly.

“My apologies,” Zemo answered shortly before going to his room.

Bucky checked his watch; it had barely been an hour.

What’s he doing home already?

Bucky was itching to get up and talk to him, but he tried to play it cool, pretending like he didn’t care. But he didn’t hear another word from the movie.

When Zemo finally came out of his room, wearing the pajamas that Bucky liked—the black and white plaid bottoms that hugged his ass just right, and a plain white t-shirt that fit snugly around his broad chest—Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. He followed Zemo into the kitchen and watched him pour a large glass of scotch.

“That bad, huh?” Bucky leaned against the counter across from him.

“It wasn’t great.” Zemo downed his drink and then poured another.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Zemo rolled his eyes. “You’re really quite insufferable, do you know that?”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m just trying to be nice.”

Zemo swallowed the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass onto the counter with a short laugh. “Are you purposefully trying to toy with me, or are you really that blind?”

“Helmut, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bucky watched Zemo stiffen just slightly, and for a second, he thought Zemo might hit him. But then he saw the change. Zemo’s features softened, and Bucky had never seen him look so vulnerable, so...needy. Bucky didn’t think about it; he just took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on Zemo’s lips. Zemo exhaled sharply but didn’t move away, so Bucky kissed him again, pushing him firmly into the kitchen island.

“I’m not trying to toy with you, I just—I don’t know how to do this. Not with you,” Bucky whispered.

“I didn’t have a date tonight. I just drove around being angry at you for an hour.”

“What?” Bucky laughed.

“I was just trying to get you to make a move,” Zemo’s voice was thick as Bucky continued to press light kisses to his lips. “What changed?”

Bucky’s hands roamed over Zemo’s body as he kissed him again, settling on his ass. “The pajamas may have had something to do with it,” Bucky teased.

“Are you serious?” Zemo scoffed. “I was wearing a Prada suit earlier.”

“Yeah? Is that supposed to impress me?”

Zemo forced Bucky back until his back hit the refrigerator; Bucky reveled in the feeling of Zemo’s hands moving slowly under his shirt, over his abs, and up to his chest.

He knew Zemo wanted more than this, but he could already feel himself starting to get nervous. He wanted Zemo so bad it hurt, but things were already so complicated.

What if my feelings get more intense?

Bucky grunted as Zemo’s hand moved over the already prominent bulge in his jeans.

I’m barely keeping it together as it is. Fuck.

Bucky unconsciously slowed down his kisses, making Zemo sigh.

“James, I can’t do this with you if you don’t want me. I need more than this.”

Bucky stared at him for a minute, panic flicking in his eyes. “What do you mean if I don’t want you?”

Maybe he does want something more serious.

No, he’s rolling his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, James. I meant if you didn’t want me, sexually.”

“Oh,” Bucky blushed, “well, I do. But I—it’s been a while; I don’t want to disappoint you.”

More like it’s been a while, and I’m afraid I’ll fall even more in love with you.

Zemo placed a hand on Bucky’s face. “That’s okay; I’ll be gentle.”

The wicked smirk that made Bucky weak in the knees was back on Zemo’s face, and all he could do was nod his agreement.

Zemo led him by the hand through the living room. “Good night, Sam.”

“Good night, where’s...Bucky... never mind.” Sam shot Bucky a wink before he disappeared into Zemo’s room.

Bucky was barely controlling himself. With every harsh thrust of his hips against Zemo’s, he felt what little control he had slipping. Every moan that left Zemo’s kiss-bruised lips stroked his ego. He could feel Zemo’s legs starting to shake, but his vibranium arm held Zemo up easily.

Not so cocky now, is he?

He switched the angle of his thrusts, causing Zemo to shout his name. Bucky chuckled in Zemo’s ear. “You like it right there, doll?”

He knew Zemo thought he would be in charge, but as soon as the bedroom door had shut, Bucky had made it clear to Zemo who he was dealing with; he practically threw Zemo onto the bed. He ordered Zemo to strip, and when Zemo hesitated, thrown off by Bucky’s domineering personality, Bucky clicked his tongue at him condescendingly. “I thought you wanted this?”

“I do,” Zemo nodded.

Bucky took a few steps toward the bed until he was standing between Zemo’s legs. He ran his hand through Zemo’s hair, messing it up on purpose, before leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Are you going to be a good boy and do what I say, or am I going to have to punish you?”

He watched Zemo’s face drop in surprise as he bit back a moan. He couldn’t help but smirk as Zemo ripped his clothes off and captured Bucky’s lips once again.

“That’s better,” Bucky praised, his breath hot against Zemo’s neck.

Bucky slowly slid his belt off; Zemo didn’t seem to notice, too lost in the feeling of Bucky’s tongue on his skin, until the leather was wrapped tightly around his wrists.

“What are you doing?” Zemo huffed as Bucky laid him back on the bed, his arms stretched out over his head.

Bucky shushed him, “quit trying to be in control. I can feel you throbbing against my thigh. You want this. You like it. Don’t you?”

Zemo nodded, lifting his hips off the bed as Bucky moved his warm thigh away. Zemo pouted at the loss of contact.

“What’s the matter?” Bucky mocked as he sat up and peeled his shirt off.

Zemo stubbornly kept his mouth shut, which only amused Bucky even more. He wanted to break through Zemo’s well-constructed walls, wanted to see him be submissive and pliant only for him, only in this private moment, his mask finally gone. If Zemo was going to make it difficult, Bucky would enjoy every second of getting him there.

Bucky gently pressed his lips to Zemo’s navel; he could feel the sharp intake of breath Zemo took. His lips trailed up to Zemo’s chest, over his neck, and up to his ear.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“My safeword is Mr. America.”

Bucky stifled a laugh, “Okay, you little shit.” He kissed him again while he tried to think of an equally obnoxious safe word. He grinned against Zemo’s lips. He remembered the look on Zemo’s face after an exceptionally well-timed jump-scare in the scary movie they had watched a few days prior.

“Then mine is Ghostface.” Bucky paused, a teasing smile on his lips, to enjoy the annoyance on Zemo’s face.

Before he could start arguing about how he hadn’t actually been scared, Bucky leaned back down to his ear. “Now, I asked you a question.” Bucky’s vibranium hand followed the same path his lips had just taken until it wrapped lightly around Zemo’s throat. “I said, you like it, don’t you?”

Zemo’s eyes fluttered closed as Bucky’s hand slowly closed around his neck. “Fuck, yes! I like it.”

“Then beg.”

Zemo’s eyes snapped open and met Bucky’s; he froze, his mouth moving with no sound before it settled into a thin, determined line.

Bucky smirked, “that’s okay, I’ll make you.”

Bucky worked his lips back down Zemo’s chest, spending extra time at each place that elicited a verbal response. He cruelly let Zemo think he had won, wrapping his lips around Zemo’s thick cock. He let Zemo rock his hips into his mouth, taking him as deep as possible. Bucky’s eyes opened to watch him; his head was thrown back, his hands clenched tightly together. Bucky felt a slight stutter in his thrusts, and Zemo’s language switched from mumbled English to unrecognizable Russian.

Oh. He’s close. What a convenient tell.

Bucky tightened his grip on Zemo’s thighs and slid his mouth down again until Zemo’s tip was brushing against the back of his throat. He did it twice before he pulled his mouth off completely and smirked at Zemo humping the air, his cock twitching and angry.

Zemo sat up, furious. “What the hell, James?!”

“I told you to beg.”

And Zemo did. He begged until Bucky finally gave in and slid his perfect cock inside of him. That led to Bucky fucking him on the bed, on the floor, and currently against the wall.

Bucky slowed down his thrusts, waiting for Zemo to answer him properly. “I said, do you like it right there?”

“Please, don’t stop!”

“You close, doll?”

Zemo scoffed, the sound coming out almost hysterically. Bucky knew it was a ridiculous question; they had both been close for what felt like hours.

“Yeah, you’re close. Can’t even answer me, can you?”

Bucky snapped his hips roughly, hitting that special spot again, and Zemo cried out.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” Zemo whispered as Bucky’s thrusts sped up again.

Bucky wrapped his hand around Zemo’s throbbing cock, eliciting a desperate whine from the man.

“Fuck, you like that? Like when daddy’s cock hits right there?” Bucky roughly thrust into Zemo after each word.

Zemo whimpered again as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Sound so pretty fucked out for me, doll.” Bucky sped his hand up to match his thrusts. “Come with me,” he growled in Zemo’s ear.

Zemo threw his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder with a scream as he finally came. Bucky pressed him flat against the wall as his thrusts became erratic. “So good, so good for me—shit. Gonna fill up this tight little ass.” Bucky groaned as Zemo rocked his hips back.

“Please….daddy.”

“Fuck!” Bucky nearly punched through the wall as he pressed himself as close to Zemo as possible, his orgasm making his legs shake.

The pet name had sounded hesitant, but it had been enough to break Bucky’s control. He couldn’t believe Zemo had actually said it, and he couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling in his chest.

“What’s so funny?” Zemo asked, still out of breath.

“I can’t believe I just got the all-powerful Baron Helmut Zemo to call me daddy.”

Zemo’s cheeks immediately turned red, and he tried to move away from Bucky’s body that was still pressed into him.

“Hey, I’m not laughing at you; it was hot as hell. I’m just surprised, is all.” Bucky turned Zemo around and kissed him gently.

“It’s not fair. You—you give off a much different vibe outside of the bedroom. I was blindsided, and now I can’t feel my legs.”

Bucky smiled against Zemo’s lips. “Good thing I’m a super soldier, and I can carry you to the shower.”

Zemo rolled his eyes. “Only this one time, and you better not breathe a word of this to Sam.”

“I swear,” Bucky said as he scooped Zemo up and carried him to the large shower in the master bathroom.

“I think I’d prefer a bath if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Bucky sat Zemo down and started the water in the bathtub.

Once Zemo was comfortably under the bubbles, Bucky started to leave.

“Where are you going?” Zemo twisted around in the tub to question him.

“Back to my room.”

“Oh. Okay.” Zemo turned back around and sank back under the water.

Bucky was trying to protect himself, trying to separate his feelings from the sex. He needed to leave before it was too late. But, he couldn’t help but feel like an ass when he heard the disappointment in Zemo’s voice. He quickly got dressed and peeked back into the bathroom.

“Hey, Helmut?”

“Yes?” Zemo turned back around, his face hopeful for a second before he saw Bucky was fully clothed.

“It was—it was good.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky nodded. “Goodnight.”

Zemo didn’t answer; he turned back around before Bucky left and sank back under the bubbles.

“I’m telling you, man, this house is haunted. You didn’t hear all of that noise last night? I swear I heard footsteps upstairs.” Sam handed Bucky a cup of coffee as he joined him at the kitchen table.

“I sleep like a rock. You need to stop watching scary movies.” Bucky tried to hint to Sam that he didn’t want to talk, scrolling through the news on his phone rather than making eye contact.

Sam didn’t take the hint. “What are you looking at? Texting Zemo?”

Bucky ignored the mention of Zemo’s name and showed Sam the news story he had been reading. “A young woman went missing a few days ago, she lived near here, and her parents are saying she got wrapped up in some kind of cult.”

That distracted Sam for a moment, his face morose as he read the story, no doubt thinking about how they could help. That was until Bucky’s phone vibrated with a message from his masked dating app hopeful.

“Who is this?” Sam asked as he handed the phone back to Bucky.

Bucky glanced at the message before locking his phone. “No one.”

“Seemed like an odd message…he wants you to send pics for him to show to his friends?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and finished his coffee. “It’s nothing. It’s just some guy who doesn’t give up.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

“I haven’t responded to any of his messages, but he keeps texting me. Nothing too weird, complimenting my physique, wanting to show me off to his friends. Lately, he keeps inviting me to a Halloween party. If he didn’t give me the creeps, I would consider going.”

“Are you serious?” Sam unconsciously looked at Zemo’s closed bedroom door.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky huffed.

“I was just surprised to find you in your own bed, is all...after last night…” Sam was hinting around the real questions he wanted to ask.

“It was just sex,” Bucky mumbled.

“Oh, so you’re telling me that you, Mr. 1940s, are just suddenly into casual sex?”

“Yeah, I am,” Bucky said defensively. “Zemo was great, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up other men.”

“Please! What other men? The creep asking for pictures of you?”

“Other, other men! I have so many messages I can’t keep up.”

“Whatever, man, do what makes you happy.”

Bucky was about to reply when Zemo’s door opened, and he strode into the kitchen without saying a word.

Shit, how much of that did he hear?

Zemo made a cup of coffee and sat between Bucky and Sam. “So, did you two hear all of that noise last night too?”

“Yes!” Sam yelled animatedly. “This place is haunted; I swear to God, if some poltergeist shit starts happening, I will leave you two here without a second thought.”

“That’s our Captain America, ladies, and gents,” Bucky joked as he slapped Sam on the back.

Bucky sat in the living room with Zemo and Sam, trying not to stare at Zemo as he read his book on the other end of the couch. It wasn’t fair that he looked so perfect all the time. Even now, in sweats and a hoodie, he looked delectable. Bucky bit his lip when Zemo craned his neck to look at the tv behind him, unintentionally showcasing the bruises Bucky had left behind.

At that moment, Bucky wanted nothing more than to move closer to him, to let Zemo lay his head on his lap until he fell asleep. But he couldn’t. Bucky didn’t take Zemo to be the type of guy that would return his feelings. He only wanted the sex, and that was fine with Bucky...he would be fine with it. He just needed to get his emotions under control.

“James?”

Bucky snapped back to reality, almost pitifully fast, as Zemo called his name. “Yes?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Sam this morning.”

“What about it?”

“I just didn’t realize you were so...carefree. I wouldn’t have thought you would be into casual sex with strangers.”

Bucky faltered, his cheeks blushing.

So we’re back to this game.

Okay, Zemo.

“Jealous?”

“Not in the slightest,” Zemo forced a laugh.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Jesus, you two have become unbearable. I cannot wait to get out of here this weekend.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, I told you, I’m going home to spend Halloween with my nephews.”

“Ah yes, Halloween.” Zemo smiled, making Bucky feel uneasy. “You know, James, since I now know how adventurous you are, I have an idea of how we could spend the holiday.”

Bucky looked at him warily. “How?”

“A party. I haven’t been in ages, but a friend of a friend always hosts a magnificent masquerade party on Halloween.”

“What’s the catch?”

Zemo smirked. “Well, the whole point is that everyone’s identity is hidden. I wouldn’t call it an orgy, but there is definitely an anything-goes vibe.”

Bucky tried to hide his surprise, he knew Zemo was trying to call his bluff, and he wasn’t going to give in.

“Sounds fun. Let’s do it. Maybe we’ll both get laid.” Bucky winked at him before he got off the couch and sauntered off.

Bucky fiddled with the black and white rhinestone masquerade mask that covered half of his face as he followed Zemo up the front steps of an old decrypt house out in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t like it. It was ghostly quiet, and the house had not been at all what he was expecting.

“Zemo, where the hell are we? This does not look like a place that hosts high society sex parties.”

Zemo turned over his shoulder before knocking on the door. “Relax. Do you really think people would have what is basically an orgy in their actual homes? With all their nice furniture?”

“I guess not,” Bucky mumbled.

Bucky crossed his arms, still uncomfortable. He was beginning to think that his game of chicken with Zemo was going too far, and he honestly thought Zemo had been making the whole party up. But now he was actually here, dressed up in a black Valentino suit that Zemo had insisted on, about to step into—God only knew what.

Zemo was dressed in a regal blue suit that fit him so well Bucky couldn’t stop staring at his firm ass, no matter how hard he tried. That wasn’t unusual, Bucky had become very familiar with Zemo’s body over the past several days, and the fact that he knew Zemo’s ass was still marked with the bruises from his own hand was driving him mad.

The sex had continued to be great, but Bucky insisted, both to Zemo and to Sam, that they were nothing more than friends. Bucky could fuck somebody else, anytime he wanted to—he didn’t—but he could.

Bucky’s stomach twisted with anxiety when a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask answered the door and asked Zemo for a password. This whole night was giving him an uneasy feeling.

“Orrrgggyyyy,” Zemo drew out the word in a rumbling voice.

Bucky scoffed when Phantom stepped aside and waved them in.

“Seriously?” Bucky whispered to Zemo.

“What? It’s easy to remember. Relax and don’t embarrass me.”

“Don’t embarrass yourself,” Bucky said under his breath.

The inside of the house was much more elegant than the outside suggested. The mood lighting aided in the anonymity of the costumes. Bucky was slightly calmed by the fact that everyone was just as elaborately dressed up as he was. To Zemo’s credit, Bucky could tell, even with the masks, that the people here were wealthy beyond his understanding. Really, who else could afford to leave daily life behind on a Sunday night to go to a masquerade party?

Tables of Halloween-themed food lined the outskirts of the dancefloor.

“Is that a buffet?” Bucky asked incredulously.

Zemo turned around, curious. He gave Bucky a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“What is a buffet doing at a goddamn orgy, Zemo?”

“You know, it’s actually a good idea; you don’t want to get too peckish, ruins the sex.”

“This is weird as shit.”

Zemo smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief behind his gold mask. “What’s the matter, James? I thought you were looking forward to this?”

Bucky gritted his teeth; he couldn’t back out now. “Nothing. I’m going to mingle.”

Bucky missed the frown on Zemo’s face as he turned his back and stalked away.

Bucky had tried to find people to talk to—okay, maybe he hadn’t tried that hard but parties were not his thing. The only thing keeping him going was his desire to beat Zemo at his own game. For the moment, he was taking a break, nursing a beer at a table alone. Earlier, a Strange Woman had tried to chat him up but wouldn’t shut up about some guy named Gabriel, who Bucky assumed she had come to the party with. That was until another partygoer joined them and mentioned the name as well. They asked if Bucky had met him yet.

“Who’s Gabriel?” Bucky finally gave in to his curiosity.

He received a shocked look in return and then nervous laughter as the man and Strange Woman walked away.

Okay…whatever that means.

He got up to get another beer, and his attention was caught by a young woman dancing in the middle of a group of men who looked to be at least twice her age. Bucky continued to watch, not sure if he should do something or not. When the song ended, and the woman headed in his direction for a drink, he decided to stay put and make sure she was okay.

She was smiling and breathless as she messily poured a glass of punch and chugged half of it. Bucky had a feeling that he knew her from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re new,” the woman noted, startingly Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Uh yeah—I came with a friend.”

She stared at him a bit longer, probably waiting on him to say something else. “Have you met Gabriel yet? I can introduce you.”

“I haven’t—I’m sorry you look really familiar, have we met?”

“I think I’d remember if I had met you before. No one in this town looks even a tenth as handsome as you.”

“Wait—shit, aren’t you, Callie? Callie Strong? I saw your picture on the news. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

The woman’s eyes went wide, but she quickly recovered; Bucky thought she looked angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.”

She stormed off and went back to her group, the men all turned to stare at him too, and Bucky felt uneasy for about the millionth time that evening.

Let it go. Why would a missing girl be at a Halloween party?

It’s like you’re purposefully looking for trouble.

He took another calming swig of his beer as his eyes roamed the party, looking for the only other ones that mattered to him. When he found them, Zemo’s dark eyes, a smile on his face as he laughed, Bucky’s stomach flipped. He loved that smile, maybe too much for his own good.

Zemo was heading his way, with another man in tow. Bucky stood up straighter as they approached.

“James, meet my new friend, Aidan.”

Bucky nodded, ignoring Aidan’s outstretched hand.

“Strong silent type—I like,” Aidan said to Zemo.

Bucky thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in Zemo’s eyes; he cocked his head, staring Zemo down. “Nice to meet you, Aidan,” Bucky said without breaking Zemo’s gaze.

He was right; Zemo was prickling under Bucky’s stare.

Good.

Aidan cleared his throat in an attempt to break the awkward tension. “So, what are we doing here, gentlemen?”

Zemo quickly refocused, shooting Aidan a gentle smile before turning back to Bucky. “James, I thought Aidan might be a good match for you. Don’t you think?”

Bucky took another sip of his beer. This was it. This was the end of the game. Would he slam on the breaks or drive over the cliff?

He wanted to slam on the breaks. He didn’t want anyone else. He only wanted Zemo, but he didn’t know if he could have him. So, he continued playing the game, unaware that Zemo was only doing this to force Bucky to admit his feelings.

“Sure, let's go,” Bucky finally sighed.

“I’ll lead the way,” Aidan said with an excited smile.

“Thanks, Helmut; I owe you one.” Bucky squeezed Zemo’s shoulder as he walked away.

He didn’t miss Zemo’s frown that time, but he continued walking.

Aidan led Bucky up a creaky staircase. They passed several rooms, the occupants not bothering to shut the doors, letting Bucky and everyone else take a peek into their demented fantasies.

I need to get the hell out of here.

Aidan paused in front of a door where several other people his age were in various stages of undress, passing a vape pen around. “I brought someone new for round two,” Aidan announced to the group excitedly.

Bucky froze for a moment, one masked face looking too familiar.

No, it can’t be…pull yourself together, Barnes.

He pulled Aidan back into the hallway and shut the door. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, and your friends—seem great, but I’m not fucking you. So, can you just stay here long enough for Zemo to think we did?”

“Are you serious?” Aidan tried to walk away, but Bucky stopped him, gripping his shoulder just tight enough to show him how serious he was.

“Fine, 10 minutes. But Gabriel won’t be happy about this.” Aidan leaned against the wall and scrolled through his phone.

“Who the fuck is Gabriel?” Bucky asked, already distracted as he tried to look over the banister for Zemo. He spotted him by the buffet table eating dessert and talking to a buff blonde man with an Ivan Drago-chin.

Hypocrite.

Bucky’s stomach had been growling for the past half hour, but Zemo had warned him that it was social suicide to eat at these kinds of parties. Yet there he was, stuffing his face

“Seriously? You don’t know Gabriel? Who are you?” Aidan asked, sounding more confrontational than he had before.

Bucky missed it, he was too busy watching Zemo, and when Drago rubbed his thumb over Zemo’s lip to wipe off a bit of frosting, Bucky lost it.

“Tell your Gabriel, I’m sorry, I gotta go.” He left Aidan and made a beeline for Zemo.

Drago looked slightly startled when Bucky suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stood next to Zemo’s side.

“This must be the friend you mentioned,” the man acknowledged.

“He doesn’t like to do names, even more anonymous,” Zemo filled Bucky in.

Bucky grunted in response, crossing his arms as he sized the man up.

“I hope you don’t mind if I steal your friend away for a bit,” Drago said to Bucky.

Bucky looked at Zemo, who was staring at him curiously as if he was wondering what Bucky would do next.

Bucky froze, unable to make himself say what he wanted to.

No, asshole, as a matter of fact, it’s not okay!

The man took Bucky’s silence as a sign to begin to lead Zemo away, his arm wrapped around Zemo’s shoulder. Bucky watched, panic ensuing.

Just let him go. He obviously wants this.

Zemo glanced back and caught Bucky’s eye. A last chance.

Bucky took it.

He caught up to them with only a few quick strides and placed a protective hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “Sorry, he’s mine.”

Drago turned to Bucky with an easy smile. “You can join too; we all share here.”

Bucky pulled Zemo out of the man’s grip and stepped in front of him. “No, you didn’t hear me. I said he’s mine.”

The man put his hands up in defeat, the danger in Bucky’s blue eyes making him stalk away angrily.

When Bucky turned around, Zemo was staring at him with that annoying head tilt and smirk he always wore. He looked sexier than Bucky had ever seen him. His hair was slightly askew, one loc lazily fallen over his dramatic gold mask. Bucky had laughed when Zemo tried it on; it was so perfectly him, elegant and dramatic and beautiful. Bucky knew he was staring too long, it was getting weird, but he never got over looking at him. It wasn’t fair how his face somehow made him look like the sweetest, most innocent man Bucky had ever seen but at the same time made him want to get on his knees and worship him.

Fuck it. What do you have to lose?

Just your sanity if he rejects you, but that’s nothing new.

Bucky took a step forward and pulled Zemo toward him, brushing his lips against Zemo’s. “I made Aidan sit upstairs for 10 minutes so that you would think I fucked him. But I didn’t.”

“Okay,” Zemo whispered back, his lips still pressed to Bucky’s.

“Did you want to leave with that guy?”

Zemo slightly shook his head.

“I know I kept saying I didn’t want this to be anything serious, but I lied. I was afraid, and I’m not great at this anymore, and I didn’t think you would want me, and—”

“Bucky,” Zemo placed his hand on Bucky’s jaw, “just say what you need to say.”

Bucky knew the moment his preferred name came out of Zemo’s mouth, and his knees felt weak; he knew he had to tell him.

“I’m in love with you,” Bucky blurted out.

Zemo didn’t give him time to panic about what he had just said; he pulled Bucky closer until their foreheads were resting together.

“How could you think I wouldn’t want you? What is there not to want?”

“Really?” Bucky asked with a hint of insecurity.

“I love you too, even though you make it difficult sometimes.” Zemo smiled when Bucky’s lips finally started to turn up into a grin. He wrapped his hand in Bucky’s hair and kissed him.

Bucky could still taste the frosting on his tongue. “I saw you eating, by the way; what will the upper-class clowns think?”

Zemo smiled against Bucky’s plush lips. “Who gives a damn? Let's go home; I’ve got better treats in store.”

“Wait. That’s it? You don’t think we should talk about this—about us?”

“What is there to talk about? I’ve been waiting for you to come to this conclusion for months now.”

“Months? You—you’ve felt this way about me for months? Why wouldn’t you say something?!”

Zemo sighed and grabbed Bucky’s hand, intending to lead him out of the party, but when he turned around, they were surrounded. In their private moment, they hadn’t noticed the partygoers slowly gathering around them.

“We were just on our way out. Thank you for the party.” Zemo remained confident and tried to walk out of the circle but was pushed backward by the Strange Woman Bucky had spoken with earlier.

“Nice party, isn’t it?” She asked in a screeching voice.

“What the hell is going on, Helmut?” Bucky whispered as they slowly backed away from the woman.

“Honestly, no idea.”

The Strange Woman stepped forward quickly and ripped Zemo’s mask off his face. The circle started to approach, squeezing them in. “Helmut Zemo, Baron of Sokovia,” the crowd chanted in unison. “His hands are covered in blood, yet none of it brought his family back. Dead!” They chanted and continued to step closer.

The Strange Woman took Bucky’s mask off next.

“James Barnes. The Winter Soldier. He just might be the devil himself, no matter how hard he tries,” the crowd chanted, almost close enough to touch them now.

“I knew something was off about this place, Helmut.”

“Is now the time to have that argument?”

“Hush!” The Strange Woman yelled. “You can’t leave without meeting your savior. The great one. Gabriel.”

“Screw this, you know so much about us—who the hell are you?” Bucky reached out to take off her mask.

She let out a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the floor, blood gushing everywhere. Bucky stood stunned, not sure what had just happened.

“James—”

Bucky looked at Zemo, who was white as a ghost, and pointing at the mask Bucky held in his hand with the Strange Woman’s face still attached.

“What the hell did you get us into, Helmut?!” Bucky whispered from their hiding place in a room upstairs.

“Calm down; we’ll figure a way out.”

“I just ripped a woman’s face off! Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Shh!”

Bucky fell quiet as they heard footsteps in the hall. The sound of weapons dragging across the floor and banging against the walls echoed around the room.

Bucky was squeezed into a small closet with Zemo. After he had ripped the Strange Woman’s mask off, all hell had broken loose. Bucky was fast enough to get them both upstairs and hidden before the partygoers had armed themselves.

“I think they passed us by for now. Listen, I saw the missing woman that’s been on the news, Callie Strong. I thought maybe I imagined it, but it was definitely her. This is some kind of freaky rich people sex cult.”

“James—”

“And earlier, with Aidan, I saw a guy who’s been messaging me nonstop. He’s been inviting me to a party and asking for pictures of my body to send to his friends. What’s that movie Sam made us watch?” Bucky thought for a moment.

“James—” Zemo tried again.

“Get Out! What if they want to do some weird shit with my body, Helmut? I mean, what the fuck?!”

“James—someone is in the room,” Zemo deadpanned as the closest door swung open.

Drago stood there with an ax and a sinister smile on his face. “There you are. Now, please come with me; Gabriel just wants to talk to you.”

“And if we don’t wish to speak with him?” Zemo asked, standing straight with his chest puffed out.

“Well, then I’ll have to hurt you.”

Neither of them moved, and when the man sighed and reached out for Zemo, Bucky reacted, twisting the man’s arm until it snapped.

“Fuck!” The man swung the ax with his other arm, aiming for Zemo’s head.

Bucky blocked it with his vibranium hand and kicked the man in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

“Come on, that will have alerted the others,” Bucky said as he took the ax from the man and led Zemo out of the room.

Callie was waiting and attacked him as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

“What the hell?! Is that a fucking sword?!” Bucky dodged the blade and knocked the woman into the wall.

The sword clattered to her feet, and Zemo quickly picked it up.

Bucky shook his head with a short laugh. “Of course, you look good carrying a sword. Anyone else would look like a jackass.”

“It’s in my blood,” Zemo swung the sword once and smirked at Bucky, “now James, I know you don’t want to kill anyone, but—”

“Fuck that, these people are out of their minds. They have goddamn masks sewn to their faces! That guy tried to decapitate you! We’re getting out of here, even if we have to kill every last one of them.”

Bucky and Zemo turned toward the staircase as footsteps started ascending. They looked at each other with determination in their eyes as they shed their suit jackets and rolled up their sleeves.

“That’s what I was hoping you would say, my love.” Zemo smiled wickedly before he turned and stabbed his sword through the heart of his first victim.

The moonlight made the blood on Bucky’s skin look inky black. He was sure he looked like a demon; maybe he was the devil himself. He didn’t care much at the moment; he was just happy to be out of that goddamn house.

“Helmut, will you come on? I want to get out of here!”

Bucky had blacked out during the fight—a defense mechanism. But when he came to, he and Zemo were at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of bodies behind them. Bucky had busted the lock on the front door only to turn around and find Zemo running in the opposite direction toward the kitchen.

Bucky was about to yell for him again when Zemo came dashing out of the kitchen, yelling at him to run.

He listened, following Zemo away from the house. Just as they crossed the street, a loud boom made Bucky jump and turn around. The house was up in flames.

“What did you do?”

Zemo shrugged. “Made sure there were no resurrections.”

“You and Sam and your scary movies,” Bucky laughed, but he did feel relieved.

They watched the flames for a few more moments, partly due to exhaustion and partly to make sure no one escaped.

“Is now a bad time to continue discussing how I told you that I loved you and you said you’ve been in love with me for months?”

Zemo snorted, pushing his hair out of his face. “You know, anything else for us would be weird.”

They began walking back toward town, and Zemo continued his explanation. “I didn’t want to push you. You’ve been through so much, and I know how difficult it is for you to make friends, much less be involved with someone intimately. I considered myself lucky to at least have a physical relationship with you. And a bit selfishly, I was scared you would reject me flat out, and our friendship and the sex would be ruined.”

Bucky tentatively grabbed Zemo’s hand, his heart fluttering when it made Zemo pause and smile.

“This isn’t quite right,” Zemo said as he let go of Bucky’s hand. He gently removed Bucky’s leather glove before intertwining their fingers again, this time feeling the cold vibranium against his palm. “You don’t have to hide from me. Ever.”

Bucky felt his heart expand, too big for his chest; he didn’t know what to do with so much happiness.

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you to a sex party to force your feelings out of you rather than just telling you how I felt. And I’m sorry that said sex party ended up being hosted by a murderous cult that we had to kill.”

Bucky laughed, the most genuine laugh he had in a long time. “It was worth it. And hey, most memorable Halloween ever.”

“Let’s not make it a tradition,” Zemo teased as he rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No, next year, let’s stay home and watch scary movies in our pajamas like normal adults.”

“It’s a date. You know, we never did meet Gabriel. I wonder which one he was.”

“My guess? The blond. He seemed the most pissed off.”

Zemo shrugged. “Or maybe there was no Gabriel at all. Maybe he escaped before the fighting began.”

“Don’t go and give yourself nightmares, Helmut. This isn’t a horror movie.”

Bucky squeezed Zemo’s hand a bit tighter. He was playing it cool, but the thought sent a chill up his spine. They hadn’t thoroughly checked the house; they had just run out when people stopped attacking.

He glanced over his shoulder. The sidewalk was empty.

Of course it’s empty.

Bucky’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hell yes, we have service again. I’ll call an Uber.”

His face dropped as he looked at his phone screen. A message just sent a minute prior was waiting for him from his masked dating app admirer. His stomach sank, his face going pale and mouth dry.

Leaving so soon? You didn’t even say hello. XOXO Gabriel.

My Masterlist

#winterbaron #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #tfatws #bucky barnes smut #zemo smut #bucky barnes x helmut zemo #dom!bucky #sub!zemo #m/m romance #m/m smut #kinktober #halloween fic #spooky season

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ahomeformystories · 3 years

Text

Just A Bit Of Fun

Sort of Bucky x Reader (more fluff than anything else really) First Person POV One-Shot

After watching ep. 3 of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, I *knew* a fic was coming along but I needed to let it sit for a while. And here it is!

You’re with Sam and Bucky on this whole mission. You just got out of Low Town and are back in Sharon’s place in High-Town. The reader tries to have a bit of fun but it’s really fluff with Bucky towards the end. You can decide if you’d want it to stay platonic or if would be a set-up for something more.

Enjoy!

Word Count: ~1.4k

~ ~ ~

We all convened in the second floor of Sharon’s gallery which was thankfully silent and in much better taste than the district we came from. Sharon had already given me permission to choose clothes from a specific area of her closet but I stood in the living room waiting to see when Sam would be finished choosing his outfit. I wanted to check out the men’s wear rack for myself.

Bucky had already changed and was sitting in the couch by himself, staring off into space a bit. When my eyes trailed over him, I actually appreciated the black jacket he chose. Zemo was sitting in a chair, already enjoying a stiff drink. Their banter was funny to watch, even if we were in such a serious predicament and were actually about to be killed just a few minutes ago but everything in this moment still brought a smile to my face.

When Sam finally chose and put on a shirt, I internally let out a hallelujah and made a beeline for the clothes rack.

“Lay low. Take some time. Enjoy the party and stay out of trouble” Sharon said before disappearing out of the room. I could have laughed when I heard Zemo say “Trouble” but choose to smile to myself instead. There were a few really nice jackets, dress shirts and even a sparkling number that I choose to ignore but my eyes lit up when I found what I was looking for. I pulled out a black long sleeve shirt that seemed just to be about the fit I wanted. It needed a few changes but that could easily be done.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” I heard Sam ask from behind me. I turned to find him near the hard liquor, already fixing himself a drink. God, don’t these people drink water? “Sharon already showed me what I could get from her closet but they aren’t things I would wear for myself in the field tomorrow. Hence, this” I made the hanger do a little dance before walking up to Bucky. “May I borrow a knife?” He looked up at me from the couch and felt the atmosphere must have been light enough to joke. “What makes you think I carry around knives?” I made a face as if it to say /Please. Who are you even kidding/ “Everyone knows it was…is…kind of your thing. So…” I tilted my head to try again. I also tried not to add that you walked into Madripoor in FULL Winter Solider gear so we all knew you’d maybe have at least 3 knives on you. He let out a sigh and pulled out a knife that was strapped to his thigh “Fine. But return it when you’re done” I smiled in thanks. “Of course” and made my way into an adjacent room.

Alone in Sharon’s room, I made quick work on the shirt -- shortening the sleeves, widening the collar and even tapering off some length. Now it was time for the party outfit. My fingers travelled over silky numbers, low-cut necklines, almost backless numbers and sparkly things. I would have loved to play dress-up but we were still in a place where anyone could pounce on us at any moment AND we had a bounty on our heads. Playing dress-up would have to wait. So I choose something practical but still a bit fun because ideally, no one would come shooting at us tonight.

A black somewhat sheer top with mid-length sleeves that sparkled just enough when the light caught. It was sheer enough that you could see the black bandeau and razor-back straps underneath and it fit in all the right places if I may so myself. I even decided to wash my hair a bit and borrow some of Sharon’s make-up. A quick glance in the mirror was able to make me smile.

Even for a while, we could have fun.

I stepped out of the room because I felt the boys were already getting impatient to go downstairs. Sam stopped mid-drink and I felt even Zemo’s gaze trail my movements. “Thank you for lending me your knife, Bucky” I held out the handle towards him. And something other than sorrow, despair and fatigue briefly flickered across his eyes. “You know we aren’t just here to have fun, right?” Sam said but I could feel the smile in his voice. I shrugged. “Trust me, this was one of the more practical options that fit me. Besides, I don’t think any of us have any plans to go wild tonight.” Bucky stood then so that I could look up at him when he said “Just a little bit of fun then” with the smallest of smiles.

~ ~ ~

We knew none of us could really let our guards down but the music was pulsing, people were dancing and the atmosphere was electric. Hell, even Zemo was having some fun on the dance floor! Sam was busy talking to a few of the potential art buyers and Bucky was leaning against a long bar table by himself so I slid up to him for some conversation.

“If I asked you to dance, would you join me on the dance floor?” He almost choked on his drink and I let out a laugh to give him a chance to recover. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, this isn’t really my style” He said after a few coughs. “Fair fair. Still working on the easing back into society bit?” I let my arm brush up against his. “You could say that, yea. It’s not going very well though” I think we both could tell that we were on a not-so-nice topic so Bucky choose to swerve instead and asked “Drink?” To which I earnestly shook my head. “I don’t drink a lot. And not all of us have super soldier serum that burns through the alcohol in my veins. So I’m good”

We fell into a companionable silence then as I let my head bob to the beat a bit. “Do you enjoy this type of scene…party…place, often?” His gaze took in the bodies that appeared to be pressed so closely together, the loud music and dim lights. “Well…” I followed his gaze up until where the artwork was being displayed before looking back at him. “It’s better than the last bar we came from in Low-Town. But on a personal note, only occasionally. It’s not my usual scene but I don’t mind turning up every now and then.” “What makes you turn up then?” He asked, genuinely curious. “Good company” I said with a smile. “And it’s nice sometimes, to dance and kind of let go in the dark”

When I felt it was safe enough I said “You should put that on your list, after all of this. If we survive, I mean” “What?” “A night out with friends”

I paused to let that sink in for a moment. I couldn’t tell if Bucky was more stunned by the prospect of surviving this or having friends so I added lightly “It doesn’t have to be like this though. It can be other things too, whatever a 106-year-old man is up to” I nudged his shoulder a bit to lighten the mood.

Realization must have dawned unto him then that I was serious, about being friends. “Yea, that…that wouldn’t be so bad” and in that moment I saw a glimpse of a young Bucky in the 40s, enjoying a night on the town before going to war flash across his face. So I decided to do one more thing.

“I know you won’t forget but you have to promise. Even if you don’t write it down on that notebook of yours” I held out my right pinky.

He looked at me as if I just handed him the super-soldier serum we were looking for.

“You have to pinky promise. Do you know what those are?” “Uh. Uhh..yea” and he had no choice because I was on his right to extend his left arm towards me and seal the pinky promise with his vibranium hand. “Good” Feeling that at least the night was going well, I would try to enjoy it a bit more.

“If I leave you for a bit, will you be okay?” I asked. “I’m a hundred and six” Bucky said matter of factly but at least the smile reached his eyes this time. “Good” I patted his arm as I pushed off the table. “Where are you going?” And I gave him the largest smile I probably had in this entire trip “To dance”

#tfaws #tfaws imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #tfaws spoilers

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spilledkauffie · 3 years

Text

❤︎ Get To Know Me & My Blog ❤︎

Name: Kauffie (she/her)

**‘90s baby, aka not a minor!

Fandoms I Write For : Star Wars (main fandom), Marvel, DC, + Sherlock BBC

**check masterlist for status’ & discontinued

What I Write: I only write for fictional characters, not IRL people. I write for Female!Reader or GenderNeutral!Reader, from a second person point of view (“you”).

Tip Jar: it’s my Ko-Fi, — it’s just there for the sake of being there.

Tag Lists: I don’t do tag lists anymore; however, I do my best to immediately add all new content to the appropriate masterlist! So, just keep an eye on those and you won’t miss anything!

Requests: majority of the time they're closed; simply because I’ve had issues with people expecting me to write every single request that was sent in.

**however, let me say: if something in my inbox tickles my fancy I’ll probably write it, so feel free to send in stuff if you want to, but just know that I can’t make any promises that it’ll be written.

Schedule: I don’t have a specific day that I post, but when I post fics / HC lists, it’s almost always after 8:00p.m. Central/Chicago time.

Platforms: tumblr is the only place I post my writing — if you see it anywhere else, it was not by my doing.

Blogs: @spilledkauffie for writing & @kauffiesupply for reblogging my favourite fandom gifs/lockscreens/edits from wonderful creators on this website! *neither of these are my main, so I can’t comment or follow from either

Comments, Tags, & Reblogs: I just want to let you all know that I look at everything you add to a post! The comments & tags that you add have been very kind, your reblogs also mean a lot to me, and I just want to say thank you so much!!

Okay, now, enough business, time for personal ice breaker— speed round:

Personality: Introvert / INTJ

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Height: 5’1” (why I tend to write from a short reader pov)

Fur Babies: 2 rescue pups Chip (M) + Coco (F) 🐾

Favourite Fandom Characters:

MCU: Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, & Zemo

SPN: Sam, Dean, & Castiel

SW: Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker, & Shaak Ti

SW: TCW: Rex, Wolffe, Cody, Gungi, & Ventress

DC: Batman, Nightwing, & Wonder Woman

Harry Potter: Snape, Hagrid, & Sirius

LOTR: everyone Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, & Pippin

Well here we are at the end! Thanks for getting to know me and for being here on this blog, I hope it’s a fun and safe place for you!

As always: thanks for reading, Lovelies! ❤︎

#toomuchkauffie #oh boy so I’m finally posting this #you do not have to read it!#but there it is anyway

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softlyspector · 3 years

Note

It's Mandripoor!! It's still tense between 3B and Bucky, but interesting. As I read this, I'm interested to see how she'll be affected by Mandripoor, and what her reactions will be to everything that goes on. With how protective he is over her, I wonder if Zemo notices this. (And, let's be real, has a plan ready in case anything happens.)

The worry Bucky has of not being able to find 3B is real and I liked the way you portrayed it. And I like the reassurance she gives him. (Also!! That sneak peak!! Wow!! I just found it in the actual fic.) The way you described Mandripoor is so...accurate to what we saw in the show. And seeing this city through 3B's eyes is something intricately and beautifully woven together, with the details and opinions being so fun to see. I liked the way you wrote her and the vanishing, and how she feels about it (when she's alone vs. when she's with Bucky.) It's sad and insightful for us to learn more about her. It's fun to see these emotions getting explored.

I like how we get to see 3B go around the area during the shot scene, and see her anger rise as people see Bucky only as the Winter Soldier. They don't know him like she does, but she doesn't want him to be known like that to them.The similarities you give them, of being looked at but not seen, not heard, is something that's been visible throughout this whole series. I like how she's really never been afraid of him until now, when he's unrecognizable to her. It's an emotion we don't see until now.

The anger she feels as Bucky is being treated as something less than a person is familiar, loud, and large. Something that hasn't been there since the blip, but it came back in an instant.

The phone call scene made me nervous. I'm glad my nerves weren't realized. The chaos that ensues after Selby's death is good, and I'm glad we learn more of the extent of her powers. The flashback during the shooting scene, is something that gives a small piece of insight as to how alone 3B truly was at that time.

The dialogue exchanged between her, Sam, and Bucky switches from the worry, to apology, to a makeshift plan. The pace is good. (I snorted when she said that there was no way to grab Zemo, that she wanted to think of.) I wonder how she had pieced together it was Sharon, who shot Selby.

I like how we learn of how 3B knew about Sharon, and the emotions she feels when she sees that Zemo still has a little bit of hold on Bucky, by being able to get under his skin by making him doubt her. When we get to Sharon's, the change of POV is interesting. The worry he feels about losing her is there once more is back. Seeing them communicate the worry they hold for one another is good. I'm glad he gets to know some more of her past, during the blip, and her experience with weapons and hiding people. They both know what it's like to be used for a skill or gift they have, and that's comforting, in a way.

Seriously, I don't know how you did it, but your writing is all there. It's....so, so good. More than good. Whenever I send these little messages, my mind and emotions tend to fight over what to say, sometimes making my words incomprehensible, but I hope you know that I adore your writing, and all the time and effort you put into it. Thank you for what you do. Have a great week.

seriously these messages make me so giddy thank you so much for sending them 🥰🥺

#bec talks #3b replies

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afictionaladventure16 · 5 years

Text

Remember Me (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 6

Remember Me Masterlist

Previously on Remember Me...

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,674

A/N: Thank you to @mybesttobobcratchit for editing this chapter for me and for giving me some ideas! I appreciate her so much! Go show her some love on her blog! She writes some really good fics! I highly recommend!

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! As always, feedback is always appreciated!

“Z wants an update on the…” Roger looked around for listening ears. “The um-” he cleared his throat, “assignment.” Roger looked back at his phone where he had just received a text from Zemo, asking for a mission update. Roger was beginning to become annoyed with all these texts for updates. Zemo was sure an impatient person. Roger realized that he wasn’t getting an answer from you. “Are you even listening?” he asked harshly as he looked over at you.

You were watching children by the playground as they ran around avoiding another small child.

“What are they doing?” You questioned. “Why won’t they let the other kid near them? Is he dangerous?”

Roger looked at you with disbelief. How could you not know what the children were playing? Everyone has played tagged in their childhood at least once.

“They’re playing,” Roger softly said. You gave him a confused expression. “My god,” he whispered. Roger then realized that you didn’t know what that meant. He took a mental note to look at your files the next time he was in the compound.

“What do you remember?” Roger asked.

“You mean from my past?” He gave you a nod. “I remember feeling cold then waking up and there was the doctor and Zemo… that’s about it.”

Roger’s heart ached. He had thought that the catch-up assignment had given you knowledge of everything, or that it had given you your old memories back. He wasn’t given details and he didn’t question it. He was only now realizing how much was taken from you for you to be the soldier you were now.

He thought of what you must be going through; the confusion, no recollection of your past. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like. He loved his childhood and remembered so many fond times of him and his friends or memories of spending time with his family. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. Feelings weren’t something people in his position could spare. There was only the mission. The mission was what mattered. Still, seeing the confused look on your face at the sight of the children playing caused an ache to form in his chest.

Roger looked down at his watch.

“You’re going to be late for class,” he said softly. You quickly looked over at Roger.

“Shit, you’re right.” You grabbed your duffel bag. “See you in two hours?” Roger gave you a small nod, you then ran out of the park and made your way to class.

~~ Roger’s POV ~~

I watched as she walked away. I couldn’t believe it. I feel so horrible for the way I’ve treated her. She’s only fifteen and yet, she doesn’t remember her childhood. Shit, she barely even had one. What she did have probably consisted of moving from place to place. I couldn’t imagine it.

I continued to watch as the children in the playground chased each other, calling out “you’re it!” when they finally caught up to one another. If she didn’t know what tag was… what else did she not know? What information did she get from Zemo’s program?

I shook my head again, only this time it was because I’d come to a resolution.

“I have to do something,” I whispered as I stood up from the bench.

~~ No one’s POV ~~

Bucky fell to the ground and chuckled.

“I see you’ve been practicing,” he laughed. He got off the floor and got back into his stance.

“R- My dad has been helping me practice on his free time,” you explained.

“He must have a lot of free time if you’re this good,” Bucky said. You shrugged.

“Depends.” You cleared your throat, “So, you and Natasha? That a thing?” you asked as you wiggled your eyebrows. Bucky chuckled as he relaxed his stance.

“Yeah, it’s been a thing,” he said as he walked over to his water bottle.

“Oh yeah? For how long?” Bucky sighed.

“Years.” You hummed in response. “Let’s see how good your punches are,” Bucky said trying to change the subject.

You held up your fists in front of you, your left foot in front of your right. Shoulders and arms relaxed.

“Are you and Natasha married?” you questioned as Bucky checked your stance.

“Not yet,” He softly said. “We hope to get married soon… it’s long overdue,” he whispered the last part. Bucky lifted up his palms, “Alright, I want you to punch my palms, not too hard, please. I already know you can knock me down with one sweep of your leg. I just want to see how well you can punch. See what we need to work on when it comes to your punches.”

“Aren’t you supposed to use a glove for this?” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah, but I can handle it.” You raised your eyebrows before smirking to yourself.

“Alright.”

“Again, not too hard.” On Bucky’s cue, you began to punch the palms of his hands. A few minutes went by before Bucky gave you a nod. “I think that’s good enough.” You let go of your stance and walked over to your water bottle. Glancing back you saw Bucky shaking out his hand and you couldn’t help the smirk that came to your lips.

“So, do you and Natasha have any kids?” Bucky’s eyes widened, his heart began to race. How was he supposed to answer that question?

“Uh- wh-what?” he stammered.

“You and Nat, do you guys have kids? You know, little whippersnappers?”

Bucky let out a nervous chuckle, he opened his mouth to respond but the sound of a familiar voice interrupted.

“J.J.!” You both looked over to see Roger walking over to where you stood. You gave Roger a confused expression.

“D-dad? What are you doing here? I thought I said to pick me up in an hour?”

“I know,” Roger sighed. Roger looked over at Bucky, "I hope you don't mind."

“No, no, by all means.” Bucky gently massaged his hand. “I think we had enough for today anyway,” he said with a smile. Roger smiled at Bucky.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You walked over to grab your bag, quickly following after Roger as you waved Bucky goodbye.

“What was that all about?” You questioned as soon as you both were out of the building.

“We have a side mission to do,” Roger said as he led you down the sidewalk.

“Side mission? Z didn’t message me,” you quickly took your phone out.

“This doesn’t involve him.” Roger put his hand on your phone, an indication that he wanted you to put it away. “Just don’t worry about anything and follow my lead, alright?” You gave him a nod and walked with him down the streets of New York.

You followed him until a small building. The sounds of laughter and shouting filled your ears as your eyes took sight of kids next to machines. They pressed buttons and watched as the small figures on the screens moved. There was a mixture of bells, booms, car engines, gunfire, you couldn’t quite figure out where you were or as to why it was so loud.

“What is this?” you questioned to Roger who wore a smile on his face at the sight.

“An arcade.”

“A what?”

He chuckled and nodded for you to follow him. He led you to a machine that wasn’t being used; PAC-MAN, it read.

“Pacman?”

“One of the greatest arcade games out there,” he explained. “Here, let me show you how to play,” he dug through his pocket, pulling out a couple of quarters and slid them into the small slot in the machine. “Watch closely,” he informed.

You watched as he moved the small lever, watching the screen to see what it did. The game seemed simple enough. The yellow circle needs to eat the white circles if caught by a ghost the yellow circle dies. The small figures of food were extra points, and the big white circles gave you the ability to eat the ghosts. Simple enough.

Or so you thought.

Roger eventually let you try out the game, you died within the first minute.

“What?!” You exclaimed as you looked over at Roger. “It seemed so simple!”

He chuckled and placed two more quarters within the machine.

“Try again.”

You had a face of determination as you focused on the screen once more. This went on for hours. Roger cheered you on every time you entered a new level. You were deep into the game when a guy came out from a room calling out that the arcade was to close in fifteen minutes. You pouted to yourself as you let your character die in the game.

“Come on,” Roger said. You followed Roger out of the arcade.

“But I was enjoying myself.”

“It’s called having fun,” he mumbled. You sighed heavily.

“I thought you said we had a mission.”

“We did.”

“And?”

“That was it.” You gave Roger a confused expression.

“I don’t understand,” you said. Roger sighed as he stopped walking on the crowded sidewalk and turned to face you.

“I’m sorry, J.J.,” he said solemnly.

“For what?” you asked.

“For what was taken from you.”

“I don’t understand.” Roger felt tears well up in his eyes. He looked away and into the crowd.

“Exactly,” Roger said heavily, looking over at you. “You had everything taken from you, and you don’t even realize what you missed out on.” Roger could tell by the look on your face that you still didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. “One day, you’ll understand what I’m speaking of, but for now, let’s go home.” You nod and walked beside Roger in the crowded sidewalk.

“One thing,” you said, stopping again.

“Yeah?”

“Can we come back to the arcade?” you asked, eyes wide with hope. Roger chuckled.

“Of course. Just don’t tell Z. He doesn’t quite understand the term fun.”

“Maybe we can show him,” you mused, resuming your walk down the street. Roger shook his head.

“Trust me, that won’t work.”

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cinaea · 6 years

Text

Trinity: Alternate Action Sequence

I’ve been replying to comments on Trinity this morning, and, in looking back through old files, I came across my original action ending for the story. I’ll share it below the jump!

This was initially just me messing around, writing a fun Action-Movie!AU of what was shaping up to be a lot of chapters with the Three on the run. When I showed this sequence to @wantonlywindswept, she loved it, and it became the planned ending of Trinity! Of course, by the time I went to incorporate it into the story, it needed to be Bucky’s POV, which meant it needed an entirely different action sequence (one that would be exciting from the narrator’s POV), and wasn’t that a bitch to figure out?

A few aspects of this version carried over to the finished story, but there was a lot of great Tony and Steve POV stuff I wish I’d gotten to keep, plus the Clint-and-Natasha banter.

Here you go, the original action sequence ending to Trinity:

Tony doesn’t immediately notice anything’s wrong. Steve set out yesterday to demolish another HYDRA outpost--his third this week, but it was a hot tip. Tony expects him home at dawn with more horrifying details about Bucky’s time in captivity. He’s so caught up in his latest search iteration that he doesn’t notice the passage of time until he takes a break to make more coffee and discovers it’s already nine.

He’s surprised Steve didn’t come find him. But maybe Steve found out something bad, something he couldn’t bring himself to share. Maybe.... Tony’s ever-present fears for Bucky slip his control, and for a moment he grabs the countertop and shakes with dread.

Finally he pulls himself together and calls his husband. There’s no answer on Steve’s cell. JARVIS reports that the jet is still where Steve parked it. He knows he’s being paranoid but he can’t imagine why Steve wouldn’t have checked in with him.

Tony pulls up the tracker in Steve’s shield--nothing! He remotely activates the tracker in Steve’s thigh--ahh, there he is. The signal’s weak and inconsistent; there’s some kind of interference--could be a half-assed jamming device, could be just a tunnel through a mountain--but Tony sees that Steve’s not in [[insert Eastern European country here]]. The signal’s moving--JARVIS determines it’s following a mountain road. Steve wouldn’t have ditched the jet to follow a lead on land without telling Tony. He calls SHIELD; their cleanup crew is 5 hours late for check-in. Local agents have been sent to investigate; they’re just reporting that they’ve found a couple of bodies--the rest of the team is missing.

And it’s obvious now, so fucking obvious that this was a trap. Steve’s behavior had become too predictable, and that hot tip had been too good to wait for corroboration. HYDRA has Steve, has had him for more than six hours, and is taking him somewhere.

Tony scrambles, ordering JARVIS to prep the suit as he hastily changes into the protective undersuit.

The phone rings.

Tony lunges across the table and slaps the button to answer the phone. “Steve?!”

“...Tony?” Bucky’s voice is laced with confusion.

And God, Tony’s can’t do this right now. He can’t be Bucky’s rock when Steve’s been taken. He takes a deep breath and does his best to sound calm as he apologizes, “Sorry. Sorry, babe. Hey.”

Apparently he doesn’t succeed. “What’s wrong?” Bucky sounds more alert than he usually does, and three times more suspicious. “Where’s Steve?”

“Steve’s, umm, not available, he’s, uhh--” Tony falls silent, suddenly unable to think of a single lie.

Bucky presses, “What do you mean, ‘he’s not available’? Is he okay? Tony, is he okay?”

And Tony can’t keep this a secret; Bucky has every right to know, loves Steve as much as he does. As the suit is assembled around him he tells Bucky everything he knows: Steve’s attack on the supposed HYDRA outpost, the missing SHIELD team, the dead cell and missing tracker, and the faint, moving signal.

Bucky’s voice is frantic. “You have to get to him, you have to save him!”

“I’m leaving right now. It’ll take me nearly three hours to reach [[insert Eastern European town that Steve’s tracker is currently passing here]], but I’m going to get him back, I promise.” The helmet goes on last, JARVIS automatically importing the ongoing call to the suit, but Bucky’s ominously silent.

Finally, in a quiet, careful voice, he says, “You’re not fucking with me, are you? Because if this is a trap, I swear to God....”

“Of course it’s a trap! It’s a goddamn HYDRA trap!” Tony snaps as he takes off, pushing the suit for everything it’s worth.

Bucky’s breath is audibly shaky. “Baron Zemo’s base is in [[insert small Eastern European country that contains the aforementioned town here]].”

Tony goes utterly still even as his suit hurtles through the sky. Zemo will kill Steve. Will flat out murder him in a heartbeat. No, no, no, no-- “JARVIS, give me 150% on the reactor!”

“150% is not possible, sir. The suit is already traveling at maximum velocity.”

Bucky observes “You won’t arrive before they reach the base. And you can’t possibly to take out Zemo’s fortress alone. But.... I can be there in 80--maybe 70 minutes.”

“Jesus, fuck. Fuck!” Tony can’t handle this. He can’t do this. He can’t let Bucky anywhere near HYDRA, let alone ask him to attack a fortress. He needs to throw something, smash something, but he’s trapped in flight position. “Baby....”

There’s a sound like groaning metal and squealing tires over the line. A woman’s voice saying “Christ!”

“You know I wouldn’t ask this. You know I just want to keep you safe. --You do know that, don’t you?”

“It’s Steve,” Bucky answers simply, already digging through the bag at his feet, pulling out pieces of his rifle.

“Just...just intercept the vehicles. Stay away from that base. Promise me you’ll stay away from the base!”

“It’s Steve,” Bucky repeats lowly, tracing his finger around the trigger.

“It’s both of you! I can’t--.” He takes a moment and just breathes, pulls himself together and concentrates on the satellite images JARVIS is feeding him. “Okay. Okay, I’m seeing two trucks, troop-transport vehicles, headed north on [[insert European highway here]]. Smart money says Steve’s in one and the SHIELD team’s in the other to ensure his good behavior. JARVIS, we need to know which truck he’s in!”

Bucky’s voice grows distant as he passes on the name of the highway to whoever’s driving. Then, “How fast are they moving? Are there any leading or trailing vehicles?”

Tony relays the logistics as JARVIS supplies them, pulling up pictures of Bucky’s estimated intercept point and describing it in exhausting detail until Bucky finally runs out of questions.

An uneasy silence follows, and Tony hesitates to fill it. The messages of love and understanding he and Steve usually try to send seem like meaningless platitudes in this situation. And the questions they’ve been so eager to ask, trying to pry any personal details from Bucky, would be beyond awful when he’s sending Bucky into danger.

But this is Bucky, and he should always know how they feel about him, and so Tony tries to force the words past the terror blocking his throat. “You know, Bucky, you have to know how much we love--”

Bucky groans like he’s in pain, and chokes, “I can’t, Tony-- Not right now--”

And then a woman’s voice is on the line, announcing that she’s put Tony on speakerphone. “You’re both still here, it’s okay. He falls apart after these calls, Stark,” she informs him brusquely. “And if we’re going to rescue your husband, he doesn’t have time to collapse. So you stay on the line no matter what until this is done, you hear me?”

“I understand, Ms. Romanova.” Tony says solemnly, sobered to hear that their conversations have negatively affected Bucky. “Thank you.”

“He knows your name, Nat!” a man crows. “Do you know mine, Tin Man?”

“You would be Specialist Barton,” Tony answers, smiling.

There are a few seconds of silence, then “No. No, just ‘Barton’ is fine.”

Fuck, Tony mouths silently, worried he’s alienated the man enough to throw off their whole enterprise.

Barton saves the moment, though, by asking how Tony knows their names.

“Facial recognition software and staggering genius, my young friend. Speaking of which, that was some nice facial hair in [[insert Western European city here]]. It take you long to grow that monster?”

Mercifully, instead of being freaked out, Barton carries on an inane argument with Tony about beards versus goatees.

...

Bucky’s finally able to allow Tony’s voice to fade into a comforting background noise that calms him while he goes through their bags for weapons and equipment (he passes the pistols to Natasha to clean and prep) and plans an impromptu assault on a moving convoy.

Finally, 31 minutes out--he checks the speedometer, Jesus, okay, more like 24 minutes out--he announces, “I’ve got the plan. Clint, I’ll need the wheel. When we catch up to the convoy, I’ll pass on the left, and you two will climb aboard the rear truck....”

...

Steve comes to again in the same dimly lit space. He’s in a narrow, barred cell, still strapped down on a cot that rattles and bounces sickeningly. Through the bars he can see several HYDRA soldiers sitting in a line, straight-backed and on guard. They’re swaying, too, and it takes Steve a while to work out that the whole room is moving. He’s in a vehicle of some kind.

He blinks rapidly, trying to clear his head without drawing attention to himself. He remembers, now, what happened the last few times he woke up, the attentive guard with the yellow syringe. Sedative. It probably doesn’t last long thanks to the super serum. He wishes he had some idea what dosage they were using so he could estimate how long he’d been captive. He wonders just how many times he’s woken up--and whether he remembers all of them.

The outpost had been a trap. He’s familiar with the idiom “hindsight is 20/20,” but looking back, Steve honestly can’t believe he didn’t pick up on the signs sooner. He’d been so blinded by rage at anyone who’d so much as looked at Bucky; the rumor that Ebersol, the man who’d tortured his sub with a control collar, had been spotted at the outpost was more than Steve could bear.

Steve grinds his teeth in helpless anger, wishing he had the man’s neck between his hands. Then he catches himself and glances carefully around the space, hoping none of the guards have realized he’s awake.

He hasn’t been noticed, but Steve spots something none of the guards have; someone--or something--is creeping along the base of the fabric wall at the far end of the room. It’s not Tony’s style--maybe T’Challa? Resolving to give the intruder a distraction, Steve takes a deep breath and then starts shouting and thrashing in his bonds.

He’s nearly gotten his right arm free by the time the cell door is thrown open and three of the guards are holding him down. Steve looks past their heads to see two dark-clad figures tearing through the other three guards. He redoubles his efforts to get free as the syringe of yellow liquid is prepped, and suddenly the guards are gone and he’s craning his neck to watch Natalia Romanova strangle a short Hydra soldier between her thighs while Clinton Barton garotes the officer.

He’s stopped struggling by the time they turn to watch him warily. “Captain,” Romanova says carefully.

“Where’s Bucky?” he demands.

Barton grins. “He’s just ahead, getting into position. Iron Man will be here in,” he checks his watch, “48 minutes, but we’ll be at Zemo’s base in less than 30, so we’ve got to get a move on.”

Romanova advances with a wicked-looking, bloody knife and cuts his bonds while Steve holds himself absolutely still.

Barton pulls up a panel from the floor of the truck and whistles Romanova over. He holds her legs while she swings down just behind the driver’s wheel.

Steve watches them for a moment, perplexed, then shrugs and hunts for his shield. He finds it in a locked case under the long bench.

“Funny thing about these old Army supply trucks,” Barton tells him, still grinning ear to ear. “They’re so prone to breakdowns.” With a cough and a wheeze, the truck shudders and begins to slow. He tugs Romanova back up, also grinning, pliers still in her hands. “Hand me that radio,” he nods to the dead commanding officer. “And get changed ASAP.”

In an instant Romanova’s in just her underwear and tugging the uniform off the short guard.

Steve chooses the biggest corpse and rolls it over, relieved to find the uniform not too bloody.

“Driver, report!” Barton snaps into the walkie talkie, all confidence and inscrutable Eastern European accent, as the truck drifts to a halt.

“The engine’s failed, sir! I think it’s dead!” comes the frantic voice through the radio.

Barton curses the man roundly for his incompetence and orders the first truck back to take on the prisoner. He then tugs on the officer’s helmet (the finishing touch to the uniform) and winks jauntily at Steve before pulling down the goggles and ducking out the back of the truck.

Steve watches Romanova push her hair up into her own helmet and catches sight of the short wires protruding from the back of her neck. He winces, then ducks his head before she can catch him looking.

“Put the shield back in the case for now, Captain,” she advises as she pulls a cell phone from her bag. “We need to get close to the other truck before anyone catches on. Alright, Stark, we’ve got your husband,” she adds loudly, “Now patch me through to Bucky.”

“Steve, are you alright?” comes Tony’s voice through the speakerphone, nearly overlapping the excited “Steve?” from a voice he’d know anywhere.

“Bucky?” Steve asks eagerly, reaching for the phone.

There’s a muffled grunt from the cab of the truck, but Steve��s more concerned with the way she’s keeping the phone from him.

“Touching reunion later, soldier,” she says. “We’re about ready for you, Buck. The other transport should be here in about a minute. In position?”

“Got you in my sights.”

“Then let’s go kick up a fuss. Captain?” She gestures him out of the truck ahead of her.

He carries the metal case out with him and walks to the front of the truck, where Barton’s stuffing the unconscious driver back into his cab.

“You’re my driver now, big guy. Pop the hood and make it look good,” he directs Steve.

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asks, looking around, before it occurs to him that Bucky’s specialty had been long-range targets. He scans the forested hill above them as he props open the hood and rips out the coolant tank, pouring the liquid over the hot engine to produce a cloud of noxious steam. There! One, two flashes of light a hundred yards up and behind. He grins beneath the helmet and sketches a tiny salue in Bucky’s direction just as the first truck grinds into view.

He joins the other two a few feet ahead of their truck as they watch the other vehicle slowly reverse toward them. “What’s the rest of your plan?”

Barton bounces a couple of times on the balls of his feet before settling into a stern, wide-legged stance, his hands clasped behind his back. “Order them to unload the SHIELD agents so I can put my VIP prisoner in their truck. Once they’ve unloaded, I’ll send the first few guards back to our truck to ‘help secure Captain America’--Bucky’ll take care of those--while you and Tasha get in position to free the agents. When the shouting starts, we move.”

Steve nods. “It’s a good plan.”

“Bucky’s plans always are,” Romanova says.

“When the shouting starts, lose the helmets fast,” Steve cautions. “The SHIELD agents won’t know you’re friendlies otherwise.”

Barton snorts. “Natasha’s never been a ‘friendly’ in her life.”

“Shut up and go order some HYDRA around,” she replies,

The young man strides forward to the stopped vehicle, shouting once more in the accent. Steve and Romanova fall in behind him.

...

The plan works beautifully. Five SHIELD agents are led out of the truck, their arms firmly caged behind their back in large metal gauntlets, a chain connecting them one to the next.

The guards flinch away from Clint’s tirade about incompetence, hastily complying with every order.

Bucky’s suppressor loses its effectiveness about the time the third and fourth guard step around the back of the truck and discover their dead compatriots. The fourth man gets out a yell before Bucky tags him, by which point subtlety is moot.

Steve hits the nearest guard with the steel case and hauls out his shield in the same motion, while Clint and Natasha spring into action taking down the guards with guns trained on the trussed up agents. Bucky’s last shot takes out the driver as he cranes his head out the side window to see what all the fuss is about.

Steve takes out the last guard and moves to free the SHIELD agents, who recognized him immediately. He notices the wary glances they shoot his companions.

Romanova’s already on the phone. “Mission accomplished. What’s your ETA?”

“28 minutes,” Steve catches Tony’s words with his enhanced hearing. He notes that she’s not bothering with speakerphone this time and steps closer to her, determined not to miss anything.

She rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t move away. “We’re exposed out here; we’ll need to get moving in the remaining truck.”

“Head to the [[Insert Eastern European proper name]] airfield. Turn-off’s about 10 kilometers back from your current location. I’ve had JARVIS fly over the Quinjet from [[insert country Steve was supposed to be visiting]]. I’ll meet you there.”

“Copy that. Bucky, status?”

“On my way down now. 5 minutes,” Bucky’s breathing hard with exertion, but he doesn’t sound in pain.

“Right, we’ll get everyone packed up and be ready for you. Stark, stay on the line with Bucky. But you don’t talk unless he needs you to.”

“Understood.” Steve blinks, alarmed by how easily Tony’s allowing her to order him around.

“Bucky will ride up front with Clint and I. Captain, you’re in the back with your people.”

Steve’s glaring at her. “Who are you to--?”

“Don’t pull that shit with me, America, this isn’t about your personal life. We’ve got a full HYDRA base not 20 kilometers away and a bunch of SHIELD agents who can’t decide whether to shoot us right here or take us in alive for the bounty on our heads. You need to keep your people calm now more than you need him; you’ll meet him at the airfield same as the Tin Man. Now go get those agents back in the truck--and decide what you want to do with these,” she kicks an unconscious guard.

She turns her back on Steve and raises the phone back to her mouth. “Stark, you bastard, did you give the whole world our faces?”

...

When the SHIELD agents and the few still-breathing HYDRA guards are in the truck, Clint tosses Steve a phone and smirks at him. “Call your husband. He worries.”

...

When Bucky emerges from the treeline a few minutes later, looking anxiously around for Steve, Natasha presses an arm over his shoulders and leads him to the cab of the truck, pushing him in to sit between her and Clint. She bangs on the dividing wall. When a second bang answers, Clint starts up the truck and puts it in gear.

“You did good, lapushka,” she whispers in Bucky’s ear, quiet enough that Stark won’t hear via the phone still taped to his sling. “It was a perfect plan--we didn’t lose a one. D’you hear me, Bucky? You saved everybody.”

Bucky makes a single choking sound but otherwise stays silent. He closes his eyes and his head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Clint reaches a hand down to squeeze his knee, smiling fondly at Natasha.

After a few minutes of silence, Bucky murmurs, “Tony?”

“I’m still here, kiddo,” comes the voice, made tinny by the speaker.

...

#cinaea is a writer!#Trinity Universe #Volition #deleted scene #dvd commentary #alternate endings #aww canvas-sided trucks!#my childhood exposure to 80s media is showing #the GI Joe and X-Men cartoons would be proud!

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