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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Wherever You Are

Sequel to Come Out, Come Out

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: Steve comes home.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

A sudden vertigo overcomes you, sweeping you out of your static sleep. You blink away the shroud of drowsiness and greet the man above you with a vacant stare. Your breath hitches as you turn fully onto your back to face Steve.

“We doing this again?” He stands straight and crosses his thick arms over his bulging chest, “the hiding?”

“Sorry, Captain,” you push yourself up, bending your legs in front of you as you keep your heels on the blanket below you, half of it trailing behind you under the bed.

“I don’t like you sleeping under there. You know that.”

“I do, sir, but…” You bat your lashes and pout. You can’t tell him who you are truly hiding from. “I don’t like sleeping alone in the bed.”

He tilts his head and the stony edge leaves his jaw. He nods and bends over you, gripping you around your sides as he lifts you to your feet. He steadies you before him before he lets you go, fingertips brushing up your nightgown.

There’s a cut above his cheek and smear of dry blood down his stubbled throat that trails onto his dark collar. There’s a rent in the fabric across his chest, another deep along his torso, that one reddened and tattered. He cradles your chin as you eyes drift down to his wounds and he forces you to look at him.

“Starshine, I’m alright,” he assures you as his thumb caresses your cheek, “go get the kit.”

“Yes, Captain,” you touch his hand gently, angling your head up as he leans in. You give him a kiss, breathing in the scent of blood and sweat. You part and give a meek smile before you spin on your heel.

You flit off to find the silver chest stored under the bathroom counter. You hear him just through the doorway as he starts to strip away his layers. The clink of buckles and rustle of fabric underlines the silence.

As you return to the bedroom, he sits on the bench of your vanity. The one he proudly reminds you he built himself. He still wears his grimy boots and stained pants, the dark blue fabric dusted with some unknown soot.

He sighs as he pushes his head back and stretches his neck. He winces as you see how it tugs at the shallow slice along his abdomen. His firm muscles draw taut and his broad chest rises and falls. Along his left peck, a purpled welt stretches up to his shoulder but the skin remains unbroken.

He sets his head straight and watches your approach. You lay out the kit and flip the top open. You flick away the last of your fatigue with a flutter of your eyelashes. You take out the alcohol first and set to cleaning the cut along his stomach first.

“It’s going to sting,” you warn, just as you do every time, even though you know he barely feels it.

“Worth it,” he purrs as he brushes your hip, welcoming you closer as you set to work.

When you finish with the bloody slice, placing a bandage neatly over it, you move on to his hands. You only just notice his split knuckles. He gives you each in turn, letting you clean them and wrap a few fingers.

You finish with a dab of witch hazel over his bruises. He watches you intently. You’re overly aware of his attention as his hands wander along the silky fabric of your nightgown. As you tidy up, he lifts the hem and leans around to get a glimpse of your ass. He gives a tiny spank before he sits back, resting his elbows on the edge of your vanity as he looks you up and down.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his legs wide.

“Captain,” you eke out as you close up the kit and dump the peel wrappers and cotton balls in the small bin beside the vanity.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long, starshine,” he says, “as much for myself as you, you know?”

“I know, Captain,” you face him again.

He nods curtly, wordless order. You walk around his knee and stand before him, just in the vee of his legs. He pats his thigh, his eyes slipping down to the gesture and back up again. You sit obediently on his leg as he brings an arm forward, setting his hand against the small of your back.

“You missed me,” he slides his other elbow off the vanity and sits straight, reaching to your hand and dragging it up over your lap.

“Yes, Captain.”

He lifts your hand and places it against his jaw, guiding it along the thick trim of his beard. He leans into your touch and lets you go reluctantly. You keep your fingers moving, petting him as he hums in delight.

“Give Captain a kiss,” his voice grinds like gravel.

You lean in and press your lips to his. It’s easier now. Before, everything you did was so mechanical but you know better now. It only makes him mad when he sees your reluctance.

His tongue pokes out, gliding along your lips. You let him in, angling your head as he invades your mouth. His hand creeps up your back and he braces the back of your head. He locks you in a hungry kiss, snarling as if he might devour you whole.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless and dizzy. His eyes are dark pits you could fall into. His hand falls to the back of your neck as his other dances along the edge of your nightgown. He gives a small tug as his eyes drift down your body.

“Stand up,” he orders.

You stand.

He leads you without a word. Turning you to face him and knocking apart your feet with his boot. He draws you closer until you stand over his leg. He slips his hands beneath your nightgown, raising it above your pelvis as he frames your hips. He forces you down to straddle his thick thigh, a small gasp escaping you as you wince. You’re still tender…

“I missed you, baby girl,” he lets a hand fall down to your ass, the other keeping a firm hold on your hip, “I want to feel how much you missed me.”

He rocks you once. Pull your pelvis forward then urging it back. The friction of your cunt on his thigh sparks a thrill that ripples down your thighs. You nearly squeal as the sensation reminds you of the rawness nestled between your legs. You repeat the motion. Mimic how he moved you. You tilt against his thigh, another babble trickling from your lips.

You trail your other hand up his arm, watching how the tendons in his arm react, bicep rounding as you grasp his shoulder.

His hand clamps around your hips as the other brushes down to knead the tender flesh of your thigh. You let out a willowy breath as he leans in and hovers his lips before yours. You kiss him, heeding another mute order. You have to know how to read his body as much as his words.

You roll your hips, grinding against him as your fingers graze along his beard. You push your hand back to twine into the tails of his hair. His need melts into you as the pressure blooms beneath you. You squeak and moan, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You ride him without restraint. The bench creaks below his weight and yours. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet in desperation. Your legs quiver and burn as you chase your release. It’s close yet so far away.

Gasp and pull your mouth from his, puffing wildly as lifts his chin and lets out a gritty growl. You dip your head down and kiss his neck, nipping at him as you clutch the strands of his hair and dig your nails into the firm muscles of his shoulder.

“That’s it, I can almost feel it, baby girl, hmm, you gonna cum for your captain?”

“Mmhmm,” you purr as you ply frantic pecks along his throat, “yes… cap… tain.”

You rut spastically as the swell of fire roars through you. You quake as the slickness between your leg smears along your cunt and onto his pant leg. Your pleasure spills over as it spreads to the creases of your thighs.

You slow, little by little, shame coursing anew in your veins as your orgasm recedes. You still and lift your head, wavering just slightly as you look Steve in the eyes. You drag your hand down to his chest.

“You came, didn’t you, starshine?” He asks with a taunting smirk.

“Yes, Captain, I did,” you answer and turn your face down in embarrassment.

His fingertips tickle along your thigh and up to your ass. He feels along your nightgown, almost curiously and follows the curve of your chest up to the base of the strap. He glides the thin string down your shoulder, then the other.

He pulls down the top of your nightie and fondles your chest with his large hand. Your nipple react at once and goosebumps rise across your skin. You tremble and look down to watch him grope you.

“You’re… sensitive.”

“Captain,” you breathe cluelessly.

“Were you a good girl?”

“Good?”

“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” He pinches your nipple and you yelp.

“No, Captain, never,” you whimper.

“No?” He tweaks the other and you squeeze his arm, “so why are you so… tender?”

“Captain?” Your eyes round, “I swear, I didn’t–”

“Hmmm,” his hum undercuts your protest and he clucks and he smirks, “Buck did say you were a good girl. Maybe he was a bad boy, huh?”

You gape at him. He’s mocking you. He knows why. He knows everything. You look up to the corner where the lens is. He sees it all.

“He won’t have to be bad if you don’t hide from him,” he bounces your tit in his hand, “you know he likes to play games.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And you know I don’t like it when you make me look bad,” he flicks your nipple with his fingernail and you yelp as you cover it with your hand, “when you act like you have no discipline.”

“I didn’t– I was scared, Steve– Captain,” you panic and pull your hand away from your chest to press to his, “please, Captain, I was only afraid.”

He growls as his throat bobs. Thoughts storm in his eyes as they bore into you. He grasps the bunched fabric of your nightgown and rips it all the way to your waist.

“You will behave this time,” he sneers, “won’t you, starshine?”

“Yes, Captain.” This time?

“Go put something pretty on,” he grips your hips and slides you down his thigh, “he’ll be here soon.”

You don’t argue. You stand and let the nightgown fall to your feet. His eyes rove up and down and he gives a noise of approval.

“Or maybe, you should stay like that, baby girl,” he taunts, “you’ve never look more delicious than you do right now.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #sequel #mcu #marvel #captain america

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seffocate · 1 month

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guys i swear ik how to draw hands :( (i was lazy)

#black cat marvel #spiderman #marvel #felicia hardy #symbiote spider man #the spectacular spider man #guys this is the official sequel to my mysterio post that people apparently liked so much #rip webman and sandman posts:(

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616witch · 1 year

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wanda maximoff is in the room, and she can speak for herself.

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 2 years

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How I would’ve marketed “Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness”:

1) Don’t even mention the Illuminati. Don’t hype up any of the cameos, especially since they’re not that important in the long run.

2) Release the movie in October and hype the HELL out of it as Marvel’s Halloween special. Basically, the “Hawkeye is a Christmas show” treatment.

3) Focus on the overall spookiness/horror vibes of the movie. And I don’t mean a horror trailer like “Insidious” or “The Nun” where the focus is on scaring people. I mean a horror-inspired trailer, something along the lines of “Nightmare Before Christmas”. Horror elements, but you let the audience know that this is still a superhero movie.

4) Still mention the use of the multiverse, but don’t go too deep into it. Focus more on the movie being Doctor Strange and Wanda’s journey THROUGH the multiverse, not so much being ABOUT the multiverse. Does that make sense? I’m trying to say that this is more of a character journey rather than world-building, which a lot of people thought this movie would be due to the Illuminati and the multiverse.

5) Hype the hell out of this being Sam Raimi’s return to horror and filmmaking. “Eternals” really caught everyone’s attention by pointing out that the director just won an Academy Award. Marvel should’ve done something similar for Raimi, especially since DSitMoM was basically Evil Dead 4.

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humandisastertonystark · 4 months

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So I just watched Aquaman 2 and I don't know how their whole relationship dynamic is in the comics but in the movie they seemed to be going for kind of a Thor and Loki dynamic with Orm and Arthur?

Like, big reckless, brutish brother and little clever, diplomatic brother (that doesn't wanna be considered his brother). Misunderstandings caused by parental incompetence. Little brother is treated as the evil, egoistic one that only wants the throne. Little brother gets defeated and imprisoned. Big brother gets him out cuz he needs his help.

Lots of joking and "sibling quarrels" while the little brother wonders what an idiot the other one is. The mother of course only wants them both to get along and her "misguided" son to know that she loves him.

Yadda, yadda I think you get the drift. Obviously it's not exactly the same but there were pretty obvious parallels.

(And may I also mention the ending scene where Arthur says "I am Aquaman" in a very familiar Tony Stark way)

I didn't dislike their dynamic btw, it actually worked well because Orm didn't (at least from what I've seen in the movies) have such a fucked up backstory like Loki (I stand corrected, what a surprise).

It's like they wanted to show how this sibling dynamic can actually work if you don't make one of them a gaslit punching bag.

#loki #marvel #aquaman #aquaman 2 #thor movies #dc universe #tony stark #loki and thor #orm aquaman #arthur and orm #orm marius #aquaman the lost kingdom spoilers #aquaman 2 spoilers #the sequel made me actually like orm #he's loki coded #also very glad that amber turd didn't have much screen time #anti amber heard

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myfictionalboos · 2 years

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-> previous

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Sniper

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Agent!Reader

Plot: Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, violence and light angst.

Words: 8,9OO

A/N: This fic has been a LONG time coming and just kept building and building, so it's basically a massive slow burn with HEAT. It's closer to what my first fic was like, so please let me know what you guys think!

“I’m not helping,” you conclude and put the last of your laundry away, an indication that you are no longer interested in the conversation.

When the unlikely duo stood in front of your door half an hour ago, you cursed yourself for ever getting out of bed. Your quick reflexes abandoned you when the tiny, blonde widow stuck her foot between the door and invited herself inside. Sharing a quick look with the large super soldier you recognised as Bucky Barnes, you sighed in defeat and allowed them into your home.

You regret telling Yelena your address the last time you spoke to her. As much as you adored the quick-witted spy, especially after performing so well on your assignment together about two years prior, you had recklessly assumed she would forget you and would never see her again. After all, your line of work didn’t exactly leave much space to maintain any long-term relationships, friend or other.

And then there’s Bucky. A twisted, nonetheless incredibly skilled ex-assassin that intimidated you beyond comprehension. You had worked with him about two times in the past and encountered him a couple times in between. He had frustrated you with his stubborn and pessimistic nature and you eventually called him out on it, assuming you would never have to talk to him again.

Clearly, you have to stop assuming your problems won’t follow you to the present.

And now they are here, in your secret home hidden in de crowded city of London, proposing you help them out with an assignment that should prevent the end of the world as you know it.

Like you haven’t heard that one before…

The disappointment that briefly flashes over her excitable face punctures your heart. You amicably decided to hear them out before you denied their request for assistance. With them, you mostly mean Yelena, since Bucky is stood with his arms crossed and a thunder cloud hanging over his head as he visibly judges your interior and lets her do the talking.

But then Yelena turns to Bucky, a childish grin forced onto her features. “You see, Bucky. My friend here, who has a skill set that would put yours to shame, is …retarded.”

“-Retired!” you quickly correct the Russian as you roll your eyes, huffing at Bucky when you realise you shouldn’t have taken the bait so quickly. You’re not sure Yelena knows that you and Bucky have met before and you are suspicious as to why Bucky didn’t tell her.

“Retired,” Yelena recovers with her thick accent and a dismissive wave of her hand before turning back to Bucky. “She has lost her skills, you see.”

Gritting your teeth, it requires all of your energy not to give into the provoking blonde and defend yourself. After two deep breaths, you decide to show her exactly how skilled you still are by swiftly slipping a knife from the holster under one of your cabinets and flinging it her way, making sure to chop off a few strands of hair sticking out on the side of her head as the blade penetrates the wall behind her.

“My hair!” Yelena cries out and narrows her eyes at you. “Do you have any idea how much a good hair cut costs nowadays?!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and shoots you a glare, slowly wiping the satisfied grin off your face.

“Look, clearly we’re not getting her to help us, so let’s just head out before things escalate.” Bucky presses his hand to Yelena’s shoulder gently to keep her from diving at you, signalling with his eyes to her that it is time to go. Of course Bucky was never behind the idea of involving you.

“Yeah. Listen to the trained, cold-blooded killer, Yelena. He sure as hell will keep you safe,” you spit sarcastically and turn back to your tasks.

Your harshness is a defence mechanism that you are very familiar with and you scrunch your eyes closed at your degrading tone, disappointment towards yourself blooming in your chest.

“What happened to you?” The pain in Yelena’s voice is evident and you drop your head, pressing your palms to the counter in front of you as you let out a deep breath. The woman had been through enough in the past years and guilt is eating at you now. You swallow hard before turning around to face the two heroes again.

“Yelena, you can stick around here if you want, but I’m just not helping you out with your little plan. I’m done with all of that,” you lie and Yelena cocks her head to the side curiously as she narrows her eyes at you, trying to read your thoughts. After a long moment of silence, the tension in the air palpable, she nods slowly before dropping her head to look down at her attire.

“Can I please take a shower then? My outfit isn’t white anymore.” She pouts and raises her eyes back to you. Smiling at the way she easily moves on from your crude behaviour, you throw her one of the towels you just folded.

“Go ahead, I’ll wash your clothes and make some dinner.” You offer a smile and she hurries over, wrapping her arms around you and whispering in your ear that she’s glad to see you again before skipping past you into the bathroom that you had gestured towards.

That leaves you and the overly strong soldier you just offended. You chew your lip nervously and give him a guilty look with another one of your deep sighs “Sorry that I snapped. I know you’ll keep her safe.”

He narrows his eyes at you and slowly walks over, his arms still crossed over his chest as his approaching face reveals more of his handsome appearance to you. He studies your body language, the judgement clear on his features before settling his eyes on yours.

“Something tells me you have a whole lot of things to apologise for.”

…

Flicking on the light above the kitchen counter to grant you some vision in the middle of the night, you peel open one of the folders that was delivered to you this morning after you requested them. Raising your glass of water to your lips as your eyes scan over the jargon of words scattered across the papers, you finally find some peace in your own home now that Bucky and Yelena are fast asleep.

If it weren’t for Yelena’s lively anecdotes and excitement, dinner earlier would have been beyond uncomfortable. It felt odd having Bucky in your home and to see Yelena again after such a long time. The memories of your life from that time like nails being hammered into your chest. Luckily you could keep yourself busy by tending to your guests, eventually offering Bucky the attic and Yelena the guest room to stay in for the night.

However, Yelena refused to fall asleep until you agreed to help them out. You should have known she wouldn’t drop the request and you tried to fight her -you really did- but eventually told them you would do whatever you could from your current spot. But you wouldn’t under any circumstance get back into the field.

Not after everything…

Too engrossed in the information in front of you, hoping to finally discover the missing puzzle piece to your personal quest, you don’t notice the light footed figure sneaking up on you.

“There are better books to read, you know.”

His rough voice startles you to the point where your heart almost slams out of your ribcage. You swallow the sudden gasp and as a reflex, grab one of your hidden revolvers and aim it at your undiscovered target.

Letting out a breath of relief when you notice it’s Bucky with his eyebrows raised in amusement at your fast reflexes, you slowly drop the gun and lay it onto the surface of the kitchen counter, though no less apprehensive.

Wearing a white shirt and some loose grey sweatpants, he almost doesn’t look threatening anymore. But one look at his face and the harsh lines indicating his default frown makes you pull your guard right back up.

“Jesus, Bucky.” You groan and run a hand through your hair.

“Retired, my ass.” He scoffs and walks over slowly, causing you to calmly shut the folders in front of you. The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches at the sight and he gives you a suspecting smirk.

“Why are you up?” you ask him quickly, yet casually to avoid him from asking any questions he shouldn’t be. To him and Yelena, you are still retired after all.

“Why are you?”

Rolling your eyes and raising your glass of water into the air, you give him a forced smile. “Water.”

“So who’s the target?” he asks, ignoring your terrible distraction entirely.

You should know better than to think a trained assassin with severe trust issues would let you off that easily. The man in front of you is blunt and harsh and he would have never gotten away with his attitude if he wasn’t so dangerous …and attractive.

“Buck, we all have side jobs. Let me do mine and I’ll let you do yours.”

“I don’t have a side job. This assignment is my main job.” He shrugs his shoulders casually as he crosses his muscular arms over his broad chest, as if this is the obvious way of thinking about their current mission.

“This is not a main job. I mean, it is hardly monitored by the government, is it?” You roll your eyes at his stubborn nature and his clear judgement of your stance. Whatever it is that the two of them were doing, it wasn’t on the radar of the United Nations, let alone any government.

“It’s my main job. And it should be yours. So what is it that is splitting your focus?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

“The second I stepped into this house, you became my business. Now stop fucking around and tell me.” His tone is sharp and you grit your teeth at the audacity of him talking to you like he has known you for years and has any fucking right to decide what you can and cannot do. Still, you finally understand why he was named a sergeant, the authority sharpening his tone capable of making anyone oblige.

“Or what?”

Bucky gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he slowly steps closer until his lids lower from looking down at you. Before you can reach for the gun, he gives it a quick tap as it slides out of reach for the both of you.

“I’ll be your biggest nightmare,” he spits, his voice nothing short of a promise. “This mission is more important than any of your little games. I don’t care for your private endeavours. If you agree to help us out, I need you in a hundred percent.”

You grind your teeth and as much as you hate him for it, you understand where he is coming from. So you sigh and snatch up the folders, stepping around him and brushing against his shoulders as you walk past to signal him to follow you.

Leading him to your stairs, you open the sealed door under it by pressing your fingerprint to a small panel hidden under one of the steps. Not giving Bucky another look, you let him follow you into another dark room, specifically altered to let you research and plan your private operations by yourself.

You approach the table in the middle as Bucky looks around the room dumbfounded and activate it with your fingerprint again. A dozen of hologram screens flit up with pictures and information that you have gathered over the past few months.

Bucky’s sight returns to you as his head tilts up to read the screens, his body stiffening and eyes widening when he notices one particular slide that you select to emphasise. A familiar photo to Bucky with information under it that he has memorised.

“This is my side job,” you tell him, reluctancy tugging at your chest.

“That is not a side job. I’ve quested this target. He’s a main job,” Bucky says, his eyes still on all the info you have gathered on him. You are in way to deep, he knows that for sure.

“Hunted and failed?” you scowl, getting a little sick and tired of him underestimating you constantly. If he was such a good assassin, how come this man is alive and now your target?

Bucky glares at you. “He was my target. Not to be terminated then.”

“Well, he is now,” you conclude and raise your arms to close all of the tabs and head back out.

Bucky grabs your arm, “You can’t.”

“I’ll decide that for myself, thanks.”

“No, you don’t. This is no longer your job. Your focus is on me now.”

“Bucky-“

“I swear to God, disobey me and I will-“

“What?! You will do what exactly, huh?” you snap at him, knowing for a fact that your rage tops his right now as your breathing heaves your chest.

Your name falls from his lips sharply, the warning clear in his voice. But you refuse to back down and you take a step closer to him, leaving barely an inch between your chests.

“Either help me, or leave my goddamn house, Barnes.”

Bucky stays quiet for a full moment, his mind running a million miles an hour as his eyes dart over your face in search of any give within your tenacity.

“What do we have on him?”

…

Both hands attached to your gun, you jog up the stairs with your chin up and all your senses on high alert. Having no idea what is around every corner or behind any door, you have to move quickly, swiftly and cautiously. Bucky is hot on your tail and you don’t have to check to know he’s making sure no one is following you without being told to.

You’re both trained professionals after all.

The second Bucky realised how important his target was to you, he helped you figure out a way to distract Yelena for long enough to help you get to him. But he had to admit, part of him wanted to get revenge for what he knew the target was capable of. Back in his Winter Soldier days, he had tracked and observed the target for months, not able to take him down. Maybe together, he finally could.

Entering a hallway so dark it might as well represent a black hole, you focus on your hearing, trailing your fingertips that stick out from your leather gloves gently along the walls to discover an entrance. You can’t see anything but darkness, the only light coming from the stairs behind you, but being swallowed by the void.

When you feel a light ridge under your touch, you stop walking. The next thing you feel is Bucky bumping into your back and clutching onto your hip as a reflex, tugging you in to stabilize the both of you. Your eyes widen at the feeling of colliding into his firm body and you swallow hard as you force yourself to remain professional. A quiet and uncharacteristic ‘sorry’ is mumbled from behind you and you quickly brush it aside.

One hand holding your gun as the other encounters a doorknob, you twist it and enter a bright, empty room with Bucky closely behind.

“This building doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Bucky complains sharply, keeping his gun ready for fire as he circles the room. You sigh, agreeing with him as you still squint to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“Told you we should get a map,” you can’t help but provoke him.

“There wasn’t any time.” Bucky huffs, annoyed by your know-it-all nature.

“You’re right, we’re so much better off wasting our time searching through a maze,” you grumble sarcastically as you continue your path by stepping through another door and stepping into a concrete hallway this time, illuminated by red emergency lights. The air around you is cold and you frown when you realise that instead of walking closer to the core of the building, you might actually find yourselves back in the outer ring.

From Bucky’s silence, you assume he has realised the same thing. Noting that the hallway is completely empty, you finally turn towards him and lower your gun.

“What do you suggest we do, Sergeant?” you dare him to come up with a plan to get you out of this mess. You’d been roaming the hostile building for over half an hour with no clue as to where you’re going. Cursing the thick outer walls, you wish you could make contact with someone on the outside right now.

“There has to be an entrance somewhere here. If this is the outer ring, there has to be a way in,” he mutters as he looks around, mostly just thinking out loud to himself.

“Did you manage to bring any snacks along with you so I can eat something while you go try to figure that whole thing out?” The annoyance in your tone is obvious and you can see Bucky’s jaw tick at your incessant need to thwart him.

He takes a few threatening steps towards you and glowers down at you angrily. “Stop being a fucking brat and do your goddamn job.”

Opening your mouth to make a smart remark, Bucky’s eyes widen and ears perk up. You don’t get to follow your colleague’s heightened senses as you get thrown against a wall in one of the crevices of the tunnel, his chest pushed into yours.

Both of you sucking in a deep breath and holding it, you twist your head to the side to note anyone walking by. Your instinct when a dozen hostile agents run past the two of you is to squeeze your eyes shut, Bucky’s is to press himself against you tighter, his shallow breaths fanning through your hair.

Once the group has passed, both of you let out a long breath and you roll your head against the wall, tilting your chin up as you look at the ceiling. What you don’t notice is Bucky’s eyes fixated on your parted lips as your chest heaves with adrenaline pumped breaths, because when you open your eyes and look at him, his eyes are on yours instantly.

“We either follow them or find out where they are coming from,” you whisper and Bucky takes a peek into the hallway, still not breaking away from the close proximity.

“They’re hunting someone down -possibly us- so we go where they came from,” Bucky decides and you give him a brief nod, not finding it too difficult to agree with his orders when it really comes down to it.

Both of you move in sync as you step out from the small cavern and jog in the opposite direction you saw the agents run into. Bucky at the front this time as you follow closely behind.

…

Pressing the barrel of the gun under your target’s chin as he almost tips back in the chair he is tied to, you throw him a snarl. “Answer the goddamn question.”

Bucky sighs and inspects his nails as he leans against the wall casually. When the target stays quiet, you turn to Bucky and suck in a sharp breath.

“Would you like to make yourself useful, Barnes?”

Throwing you a clipped smile he mutters a ‘finally’ as he steps over, pushing past you and grabbing the target’s throat. His jaw clenched as dark eyes peer down onto his victim. The way his arm clangs and jitters with its movements has adrenaline rushing through your body. Thankfully, you and Bucky are finally seeing eye to eye when it comes to this particular assignment.

“Remember me?” he mocks, his voice a low drawl, but no less threatening as he keeps his jaw locked tightly. “You heard her. What sick plan are you involved in this time?”

“Your tiny blonde friend should know,” the man chokes out through Bucky’s grip and Bucky looks at you with a worried frown. The comment comes as a shock to both of you, even though you know that you shouldn’t believe this douchebag over your trusted colleague.

You give him a confused shrug in return, not feeling any wiser than he does right now, and Bucky turns back to the man clasped within his vibranium claw “Be vague again and I’ll rip out your vocal chords.”

“Charming,” you quip, a mixture of awe and disdain at his choice of threat. It is undeniable that your impatience is slowly getting the better of you and your teeth start gnawing at your bottom lip.

When your target gives Bucky an unimpressed glare, you lose the last of your patience. Flicking the knife out of your thigh holster and twirling it between your fingers, you don’t hesitate to cut off his pinkie, a cry leaving your target’s lips.

“Nine.”

You don’t notice Bucky’s face twitching to hide an impressed smile, gritting his teeth to contain himself from the thrill rushing through his body when you heave a deep sigh at the target’s silence and slice off his ring finger.

“Eight.”

The target glares up at you with almost as much thunder in his eyes as Thor and actually shoots Bucky a pleading glance for some mercy from your brutality. But Bucky simply shrugs innocently.

“I’d hurry up if I were you,” he backs you up, his voice deep and rough, humour dripping off his lips as his grasp doesn’t falter, “I don’t want to know what she’ll cut off once she’s done counting down your fingers.”

The panicked look in your target’s eyes makes you roll yours and you heave another deep sigh, raising your knife to slash down again. But before you can drop the knife onto his middle finger, he gasps and scrambles for words as quickly as he can.

“The weapon!” he gasps. “The weapon you are after, I’m a distraction. They knew you’d come after me.”

When you twist your head towards Bucky, you watch his eyes widen slightly before a mask expertly covers up his emotions. It frustrates you to the bone that you are never able to decipher the soldier. But the brief look that you saw in his eyes is enough to send a surge of fury to rush through your body and you turn back to your target once more.

Wrapping your fingers around the nape of his neck, you drive the blade into his abdomen, twisting it around as you keep your eyes connected to his. A gasp leaves his lips and it doesn’t take too long for blood to fill his mouth and cover up his teeth, the nausea of the blood in his stomach turning him bleak.

“I know you feel oh-so useful right now, distracting us from our actual mission, but I am here to tell you that you are nothing but a waste of fucking space, you know that?” you spit in his face, twisting the knife further as you drive it deeper.

As fatigue makes his features melt, your target gives you a disgusting smile, bright red blood covering the yellow of his teeth as his eyes shine with promise.

“Hail Hydra.”

…

The drive back to London is quiet for the most part. The sun has only just started to come up, colouring the city in a bright orange as the brisk air slowly warms back up. It had been a dreadful night.

The look you saw on Bucky’s face when he heard those final words come from your target’s mouth sent chills up your spine. His face went completely pale and hollow, his eyes darkening and his posture stiffening at the mention of a corporation that was supposed to be dead.

Not sure how you are able to tell, but the second you saw Bucky’s face, you knew this was his worst nightmare unfolding in front of him like the biggest disturbance and shock of his life, yet like all this time he had been waiting for it to come.

Those two words were enough to send Bucky into a blinding rage that snapped the target’s neck within seconds. You couldn’t blame him if you tried. You would have never been as cruel as you were if you didn’t know what your target was capable of. As your first instinct was to reassure Bucky, you could tell he wasn’t up for talking. He wanted out as soon as possible.

But as you are sat in the taxi taking you back to your house, you can’t help but sneak a few glimpses of him. When you both step out of the car, rounding it before stepping up to your home, you gently put your hand on his shoulder to stop him and he spins around to face you.

“Do you want to talk about what he said?” you ask him and his face remains impassive.

“I’ll cook tonight,” is his only response and you study his face intently before giving him a simple nod. Him cooking dinner is his way of taking his mind off or processing on his own. If you even understand a fraction of the trance he is in right now, you would give him his much needed space.

So you bring Yelena up to speed when you see her, the shock of your betrayal quickly covered by the shock of your latest discovery. You kindly ask her to pick something up for you that might help you further since both you and Bucky are completely beat after your own little mission. The long drive home granted you enough time to contact your private investigator and collect some much needed intel.

As Yelena closes the front door behind herself, you turn to Bucky hanging out on your couch as he filters through some files and you decide to prepare the both of you a strong drink from an ancient bottle hidden in one of your cabinets.

Gently sliding the glass over to Bucky, he finally makes eye contact for the first time since you stepped back into the house. He drops the files and slips a cloth from his pocket.

“So why did you retire?” Bucky asks, his focus on his vibranium arm as he rubs the cloth over the dirtied material.

Leaning back in one of your big seats and staring out the window as the sky darkens, you try to process his question. But realising you don’t exactly have anything to lose and that Bucky will give you a hard time either way, you give in to his curiosity. Besides, he could use the reassurance that you both carried some sorrow.

“The Blip,” you mutter, looking anywhere but at the large man opposite to you. “I was in the middle of one of the most important missions of my life. Nothing too important in hindsight, but all consuming back then. My friend and colleague, a ray of sunshine similar to Yelena actually, was my partner at the time.”

You can feel Bucky’s stare on you as you start telling the story and you almost want to stop talking. His gaze is strong and you feel heat rise to the surface of your skin at the intensity of the man. Voice softening and hands fiddling, you continue your confession.

“I had finally taken out the two men hoarding me and turned around to help her out. I saw one of the other agents pull a gun on her and felt a certain… splintering coldness crawl up my back. I dove forward as the shots went off and saw my arm fragmenting into dust.” You drop your head and look down at your feet. “Last thing I saw before I blipped was the three bullets penetrating her chest. The first thing I saw when I returned was the same cement room, completely empty with splatters of her blood permanently colouring the ground.”

Bucky is completely silent as he listens to you telling about that awful memory and you raise your head to see his reaction. He doesn’t reveal anything however and you decide to conclude your story.

“Never wanted anyone’s life to depend on me again, so I work solo now.”

“Why did you let me help?” His voice is quiet, careful.

“Because I don’t care for you dying. I’m rooting for it actually,” you quip playfully, earning a soft chuckle from the both of you before Bucky rolls his eyes away and takes a big gulp of his drink.

A soft tune from your phone brings you back to reality and you dart your eyes to your screen which is lighting up with a text from Yelena.

‘Mission is a shit show. Be back in two days. Don’t start without me!’

You chuckle at her eagerness. Even though she was forced into becoming a widow at a young age, she did love her job. And she was damn good at it too. How she managed to brighten up a profession this sinister, you could only hope you would one day reach that.

“Yelena is held up. I say we get as much preparation done before she comes back so we can hit them where it hurts,” you murmur, downing the last of your drink and pushing off of your chair. “But first, I’m going to need some rest.”

“Cutting off fingers will take it out of you,” he huffs with light amusement as he leans back on the sofa, taking a small sip of his drink as his dark eyes raise up to yours.

“It was too much fun too pass up on.” You shrug and he nods slowly at your words.

“Sure was.”

“Goodnight, Bucky. Thanks for your help today.” You give him a sincere smile as you round the corner to head up to your room, not waiting for him to respond either.

…

Trying to avoid accidentally bumping your shoulder with Bucky, who’s lying on his stomach next to you, you spy down onto the massive concrete building spread out in the middle of the forest. A large wall of mountains obtain the base from being spotted by anyone, except from the three vantage points you discovered a few years ago.

“So what is this place again?” Yelena asks from her vantage point through her in-ear.

“The most secret and secluded Hydra base in the world,” Bucky mumbles under his breath, keeping his eye narrowed through the scope on the sniper rifle clutched to his shoulder. You and Bucky had set up on one of the vantage points together, whilst Yelena took another point for her role in this assignment.

“When Hydra fell,” you elaborate for the tiny blonde through the comms, “all existing Hydra agents suddenly became jobless and collectively fled to this place. It was a head-hunting field day for all of the other criminal organisations who were looking for eager, skilled and suicidal agents. But since Hydra seems to still be active, this would seem like the right place to look now.”

“If it’s so secret… How do you know about it?” Yelena asks suspiciously – rightfully so.

You share an unsure look with Bucky, the only man who knows exactly why, and he gives you an indifferent shrug before focusing back on his targets.

“Because doing what I did at the time, it required me to know what every active criminal organisation was doing and where they were doing it, to avoid crossing them,” you explain, keeping your voice even as you pray that she doesn’t ask her next question.

“Did you know where the Red Room was?”

Silence.

You are sure you even notice Bucky tense up at the question and you drop your head, not at all wanting to disappoint the Russian even further than you already had so far.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Yelena,” Bucky surprisingly backs you up and you turn your head to look at him. The expression on his face is still indifferent as the last rays of sunlight descend behind the mountains.

You seem to hear a soft huff through the comms and you breathe a sigh of relief. All of a sudden, the three of you brace yourselves as you spot movement within the camp. Just like you predicted, the guard rotation. This is Yelena’s cue to get settled with her technology to infiltrate the security system.

“When do we go?” Bucky asks, flexing his hands over the rifle.

“When Yelena has disabled the security system.”

“And if she can’t?”

“We wait until the next rotation.”

“That’s eight hours.”

“Correct.”

You receive a brief glare from Bucky before he shuffles over the ground and braces himself. “Let’s hope the tiny spy can make herself useful then.”

You roll you eyes at his snarky comment and frown at him, “Aren’t snipers supposed to be the quiet types?”

He gives you a brief side eye, “We are. You know why?”

You raise your brows in expectation, giving him a bored look as Bucky still refuses to turn to you and a sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Because usually when we’re in this position, we’re eating pussy.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is so sudden, you have to bite back the gasp and instantly turn your head back to the view ahead of you. Trying to play off the fluttering feeling erupting in your body, you shake your head.

“Pig.”

A deep chuckle, soft and disarming, floats from Bucky’s lips with an amused shake of his head and you purse your lips in an attempt to push back the heat in your face.

You don’t know how you got it in your head that after everything Bucky has been through and being the type of person he is now, he’d abstained from any sexual activity. Supposedly, you assumed he wasn’t nearly inviting enough for women to approach, though you could see why that would have its own appeal. He is awfully masculine and strong and attractive, but you hadn’t yet connected him to being a potential sexual interest.

That was until you heard him speak such filthy words.

And all of a sudden you find yourself praying that Yelena would succeed in her job to prevent you from having to stick around here for eight hours with no distraction from Bucky other than the man himself.

…

Dismantling the rifle as he stuffs it back in the suitcase, Bucky watches you put up the tent with the minimum amount of light allowed on your vantage point.

“Have you brought a puzzle or something to kill time?” Bucky comments sarcastically, another dig at the fault in your plan. Eight hours of keeping quiet until your next window for execution. In your defence, there wasn’t another option. This operation was risky enough as it is. You’d simply have to stick it out.

“No. But I hid clover fours all through the woods for you, so you can keep yourself busy for the next eight hours, you child,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, bending over as you press the tiny inflatable matts into the tent.

You don’t see Bucky biting back a smile at your rebuttal as he closes the suitcase and readies the other weapons for quick use in case that would be necessary tonight. Walking over to the tent as you crawl out, he looks down at you.

“Should we check on Yelena?” he asks and you smile at his inability to hide his affection towards the tiny, bright agent. You did find the two of them an odd duo to work together.

“Sent her a text. She’s fine and has set up her own tent,” you answer him and grab your backpack as you rummage through your belongings, “I’m going to try and get some sleep, should we keep guard?”

“Nah, there aren’t going to be any agents over here. They have technology for that job now and they would have already spotted us if it reached this far,” he explains and you nod. “Go sleep.”

So you do.

But as complete darkness engulfs everything in sight, you can’t help but stare up at the ceiling of the tiny tent, your imagination swirling against the blinding void above you. Your breathing is slow and quiet, but you feel like an endless amount of energy is coursing through your body. Safe to say you had hoped for a little more action around this time and there’s not a cell in your body that feels like sleeping right now. Even worse, after Bucky’s earlier stunt of letting you in on his sex life, every cell in your body is screaming for only one thing.

Bucky’s head between your thighs.

And you’re sure your adrenaline makes it worse, the throbbing between your legs and the filthy thoughts. Like how he’s got a good mouth on him. Pretty lips and a restless tongue. Good hands, too. Strong. Capable of wrapping around your thighs and pulling you in. You wouldn’t stand a chance. Full head of hair between your legs that you can only imagine stroking your fingers through and knotting into it as you pull him closer to where you need him most. Fuck.

“Would you stop moving?” his deep voice grumbles from beside you and you sigh, willing you body to still as you turn on your side, your back to him.

But you can’t help it. Tiny ruffles of your clothes whenever your rub your thighs together or a shudder rolls down your spine, you run overly hot. Cheeks and neck glowing with warmth, your hair feeling uncomfortable against your skin and your lips aching as your keep chewing them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop moving,” Bucky growls again, irritation evident in his voice.

“ ‘M just cold,” you lie and roll your eyes at yourself. If anything, you’re quite the opposite.

What you don’t expect is the solid feel of Bucky’s large body pressing into you, your spine locking up when you feel his breath fan over your cheek. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt to stop your eyes from rolling back, you finally open your mouth to speak up, only to hear Bucky speak up first.

“I don’t mind sharing body heat to preserve warmth,” he starts, his voice low and almost threatening, “but you seem to be burning up.”

He’s playing it off like he’s surprised, but you know damn well he has figured out you’re lying. As his flesh arm curls around your shoulders over your front, his metal hand grabs a hold of your hip and pulls you into him further. His lips brush over the shell of your ear and you shudder against him, making Bucky bite back a chuckle at the response.

“Why so hot all of a sudden?” he whispers and you are sure there has never been anything hotter than the sound of his whisper against you as your body heat seeps into him.

“I- ” you start, but fall short.

“Speechless?” Bucky asks after a moment silence. “Here I thought I would have to try a little harder to attain that.”

The hand on your hip slides down to the thickness of your thigh, his fingers spreading and digging into the cloth-covered flesh, the tip of his middle finger awfully close to the inside of your thigh as he exchanges your heat back to you through his vibranium palm.

“Bucky,” you warn.

“Yes?”

You grit your teeth, the pressure of him against you growing completely unbearable and you can’t keep your legs from squeezing together. Which is all the confirmation Bucky needs as he lets the menacing chuckle that’s been threatening to come out slip.

So you leap.

“Tell me more about,” Bucky waits patiently for you to follow through with your request, his fingers massaging into your thigh as his hand slowly moves to the spot between your legs, “being a sniper.”

His breath is hot against your skin and your let your eyes fall shut, not even thinking about your request and just hoping Bucky takes you up on it.

“About being a sniper, or eating pussy?” he asks and you stop the moan clawing its way up your throat at his words.

You swallow hard, “Eating pussy.”

“Why don’t I show you?” He sounds so cocky and you shake your head as much as you can in his hold, trying to prevent your voice from coming out too pathetic.

“N-No. Tell me,” you breathe and Bucky’s brows raise, impressed with the inquiry.

It stays quiet for a while and you feel like you might explode, the warmth from his hand burning through the fabric of your tactical pants.

“I’m a lazy eater sometimes,” he drawls out quietly and you swallow hard, his fingers tracing circles over your thigh. “I like getting comfortable. Have my meal right in front of me. Spread out and ready to be eaten. Warm…”

Your breathing is already becoming heavier and your hands have wrapped around his lower arm around your shoulders. But that arms moves as his hand trails down to cup your breast, giving a firm squeeze as his finger traces over your nipple.

“Some soft thighs draped over my shoulders that I can squeeze and hold in place. Maybe bite a little, because I’d like to get you squirmy…”

You. You in particular?

“I bet you smell so good,” he almost groans, inhaling as his nose buries into your neck, “taste even better.” His teeth dig into the sensitive skin and you jolt, letting out a soft whimper at the feeling before his tongue smooths over the patch of skin. “Maybe I’ll get extra lazy – let you do the work and ride my face.”

Your eyes do roll back this time and in doing so, your entire body rolls back against him, making his hand wrap around your thigh again as he gives your nipple a gentle squeeze, making you gasp.

“You’d like that? Grind that soft cunt of yours over my mouth? Get me all wet to get yourself off?” he taunts and you’re full-on throbbing between your legs now, pulsations of your slick dripping in your underwear. “Sit down and get comfortable on my face? Wouldn’t that be a fucking treat.”

That’s when you assume Bucky loses his restraint as his hand fully cups you between your legs now, his middle and ring finger pressing up against your core and making you press down in response. It’s barely any relief, but the pressure just feels so good.

“Oh Bucky,” you moan softly and Bucky buries his face in your neck, that sound nearly enough to make him bust on the spot. Rolling his fingers against the fabric covering your scorching heat, Bucky bites down onto your shoulder when you start grinding against his hand wantonly.

You’ve shifted slightly, your hips bucking upward to chase his touch as Bucky’s lips are pressed to your temple, parted as heavy breaths slip through them and his fingers increase pressure between your thighs.

It’s unbearable, the faint feeling of his fingers only riling you up more with your pants and underwear in the way, and your hands reach down to undo the button of your pants. You fear you might seem too eager, but Bucky is quick to abandon his previous spot and rip the zipper down before swatting your hand away and diving into your underwear, pressing three firm fingers against your clit and making you almost cry out at the feeling.

Firm circles are drawn over your clit by his metal digits and it’s not nearly enough. It’s torture, the way he sends warm jolts of electricity through your body, but doesn’t feel the need to detonate the bomb.

“Please,” you whine and buck your hips again. You have never been this worked up and wet before in your life.

His lips drag themselves back to your ear and he takes your earlobe between his teeth before humming softly, “Want me to eat you out, sweetheart? Get a good taste of you?”

You nod frantically and your fingers move to drag over the front of his chest, clammy skin peeling at the cotton of his shirt. Bucky presses a soft kiss to your cheek before completely abandoning you and depraving you from his touch. You squirm in the dark, trying to locate the menace responsible for your current frustrations, until you feel a harsh tug at your pants, pulling it down your thighs along with your underwear and tugging you into place simultaneously.

A gasp bursts from your chest and you immediately help Bucky undress your lower half, the eagerness heating up the small space in the tent. You hear a zipper again, from the tent this time and your eyes finally adjust to some moonlight shining into the tent from the square Bucky opened up.

Swallowing hard, your eyes settle on the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, where it bulges because he’s clenching so hard, lids hanging low as his eyes are focused on their next destination at the apex of your thighs. And this is when you find out the tent is large enough to your liking, because Bucky pushes you to the edge, bends your legs so you’re bare and spread open for him, before laying down flat on his stomach and positioning his beautiful face above your throbbing core.

Your fingers twitch in anticipation as you lean up on your elbows and look down at the sniper between your legs. His large eyes peer up at you and a filthy smirk curls at his lips before he sinks his teeth into the softest flesh on your thigh, making you whine softly. But you asked for this. So you take it. Every drag of his mouth over the inside of your thighs, every bite to your skin before he sucks the tender flesh into his mouth until you’re sure there’s a mark there. And another. And another. Claimed.

“Bucky. Please,” you whisper and he pulls away slightly, licking his lips. Arms wrapping around your thighs and firmly spreading you open in front of him with his fingers splayed wide, he locks his eyes onto yours before slowly leaning in and pressing a warm kiss to your pulsating clit as his eyes zone in on your response.

Breathing a deep sigh, you swallow hard to stop yourself from breaking out into begging and channel all of the patience you can muster. He smiles at this and his eyes drop down to where you convulse and drip for him, quickly wiping the smile off his face.

That’s when the tip of his tongue drags through your folds, through your slick and up to your clit, which you think has never been more sensitive – and it’s your downfall. Your arms quiver from underneath you as you melt like putty to his mouth. Wrapping his warm lips around your clit and eagerly sucking it into his mouth with a satisfied hum, you let out a long, raspy moan and collapse onto the ground, one of your hands flying to clasp onto his metal hand as the other immediately finds home in his hair.

Briefly, you hesitate whether grabbing his hair was the right move, until Bucky wraps his entire mouth over your dripping pussy and licks in and through you with so much hunger, you can’t help but knot your fingers into it for leverage.

Warm, thorough and filthy are the words you would use to describe the way he licks and sucks as he’s buried between your legs. Hands squeezing your thighs as he hauls you closer and dives his head further into you core, you cry out when his tongue plunges into your clenching hole. He must be covered in you, the way he eats you so wildly.

But as you steadily burn hotter, grow closer, drip wetter, Bucky’s groans and hums of pleasure are what make you skyrocket towards your high even faster. The pressure in your abdomen is almost overwhelming, the urge to push him away almost as great as it is to pull him closer and your heels dig into his shoulders as your head falls back and your hips shamelessly grind against his face, seemingly only edging him on more.

Head rolling from side to side as Bucky keeps you spread out in front of him, his mouth alternating between licking your arousal straight from the source or manipulating your clit to his own will, tugging on it like it’s attached to your sanity, you feel like the orgasm might take you out and you grow fearful of letting go, dangling off the edge by a string.

But Bucky lives for it. Your taste, your warmth, your cries of pleasure. He’s never been in a more comfortable and rewarding position, the smell and taste of you overtaking all his senses as he kneads possessively into your skin, the feel of you making him want to growl like an animal.

There isn’t enough power in your trembling limbs to clutch onto him anymore, your thighs shaking and your fingers gently combing through his hair as Bucky sighs against you happily, still not coming up for air as he is glad to be where he is and never wants to leave. And when he wraps his full lips around your clit one more time and sucks it into his mouth whilst rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle – you cave.

Arching your back to the sky and crying out for mercy, Bucky only pulls you closer as he buries you in your orgasm. Shaky thighs held tightly in his grip and tongue wildly raving through you, you flinch and shudder and twitch against his face. You curl up, knotting both hands into his hair and watching the last of the moonlight disappear behind black spots in your vision.

And just when the fog in your mind seems to lift, two warm fingers glide into you with way too much ease, curling up against your swollen walls and pressing into a spot that has you almost squeal from the sensitivity.

You look down to tell Bucky to take it easy, but your words get stuck in your throat when your eyes land on him and the feral look in his own eyes as his mouth laves over your clit again. You watch the tip of his tongue run through you as his wrist flexes with his fingers curling up inside of you and you shudder so violently, it almost makes Bucky chuckle.

Over and over, he grazes your spot with his rough fingertips and each stroke feels like its own tiny orgasm, his tongue lovingly gliding through your folds to coax you towards your next high as your heavy breaths and moaning fill his ears.

“Bucky, oh my God!” you whimper and he hums against you again, his eyes falling shut. The way his fingers move within you, in time with the drags of his tongue towards your clit has you seeing entire galaxies, your next orgasm drawing vacuum inside your belly and feeling tighter than you’ve ever experienced.

And as his wrist twists and his hand moves faster while his mouth latches onto your clit again and the filthy sounds filling the space almost become intolerable, you get thrown over the edge so suddenly, you let out a loud scream of his name. Clamping onto him as you burn through your orgasm like a thousand fires surround you, your body shakes and shatters at his touch, crying for him to let up. Which – after you’re sure you’ve drowned and resurrected – he finally does. So you pull your knees together in an attempt to shield yourself as pleasure still wracks through your spine in shocks.

Trying to catch your breath, Bucky slowly crawls up next to you, lying on his side and looking down at your face, brushing your hair from your forehead.

“I’m tired,” he murmurs and you finally manage to pry your eyes open.

“You’re tired,” you repeat with a weak frown, disbelief lining your voice.

“Yeah,” he says and rolls onto his back, “get on my face.”

Your eyes widen and he turns his head to look at you.

“Bucky, are you insane?!”

“This is taking too long,” he grumbles and manhandles you with so much ease, scooting down and rolling your hips until you’re hovering over him and fall forward to lean on your hands to you keep yourself up above him.

“Bucky, I’m not sure I can,” you huff in defeat, but you can already feel yourself throb again and curse your own body for betraying you like that.

His hands wrap around and grab onto your hips, smirking up at you.

“You can, and you will,” he promises, his voice not much less indifferent than you’re used to from the sergeant. “And if I ever catch you on that weird hovering shit again, I will make you regret it. Now sit and come for me.”

Next thing you know, your hips get pulled down and you’re sure Yelena can hear you all the way from her vantage point as Bucky ruins any and all men for you.

#holy SHIT this has been in my Wips for so long #i really wanted to write yelena and here she is !!!#i have a feeling you guys won't like this one as much as i do but frankly its fine #i like it and im genuinely just happy its finished too #sequel of sting is also well on its way!!#pls tell me what you guys think!!#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #writing #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #e to l

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chipper-smol · 2 years

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someone: shame that [beloved childhood movie] didn’t have a sequel

me: *hits them with a stick hits them with a stick hits them with a stick hits-*

#some things are better #without sequels #this is about treasure planet #many many many many sequels are so obviously cash grabs that its painful #however if its like a script that was too long for one movie and they had to split it up into two #then thats a different story #idk im just #soooooo tired of #reboots and sequels #and the endless stream of marvel movies and shows [except moonknight that one can stay]#let me have one off stories with satisfactory endings #that dont tie into anything greater #sfgnfsn this turned into a bigger rant than i was intending #g muses

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randomgirl005 · 1 year

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Nat: Come live with me! My roommate just moved out.

Wanda: But are you sure? You just met me. I could be a serial killer!

Nat: I like to believe in people.

...

Nat: Plus, what are the chances that we're BOTH serial killers?

...

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madame-helen · 7 months

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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You Can Run

Sequel to Come Out, Come Out and Wherever You Are

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: You make a run for it.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Steve stands behind you, hands framing your head. He presents you to Bucky like livestock, stroking and petting your hair. “Problem with a pretty face is you can’t tell if it’s lying.”

Steve’s hands fall to your neck, closing around it but not squeezing.

“So, Buck, was my starshine a good girl?”

Bucky gives a crooked smirk and he pushes his fingers through his thick locks. He exhales and tuts as he considers you. His eyes appraise every inch of you, naked to his gaze. Steve’s forces your chin back up as you try to hide.

“She was a very good girl…” Bucky comes closer, a step at a time. “Once I found her.”

“Mm, she has a habit of hiding, doesn’t she?” Steve’s grip tightens until his fingers are flush to your throat, “tryna keep a good thing all to herself.”

“Captain,” you croak and he chokes the voice from you.

“I didn’t say you could talk,” he snarls. “Sergeant, you got any ideas?”

Bucky brings his metal hand up to his chin, giving a thoughtful stroke and slides his thumb up to his lower lip. He pushes against it and hums.

“If she likes to hide… I don’t mind finding her,” Bucky snickers, “we’re soldiers, we know how to track. But it never hurts to test our skills, huh?”

“Meaning,” Steve pulls you back against him.

“You remember where we took that hike… with the team? That big forest up a ways. Real easy to hide up there. Easier to get lost.”

“Oh?” Steve hums, “there’s no moon, Buck. That’s not practical.”

“I didn’t think we were being practical,” Bucky retorts, “but if you wanna be practical…”

Bucky holds up his metal hand and stretches his fingers. Steve clucks and slowly drags his hands from your neck, trailing along your shoulders. His breath brushes over your hair as he leans in to plant a kiss on your crown.

“That’s the thing about my little star,” he snarls into your hair, “I’ll always find her light.”

⭐

You crash to your knees, a gust swirling over you as the metal slices into the trunk of a nearby tree. You can hardly see as you scramble across the forest floor, crawling away from where the shield’s embedded into the thick walnut. You have only a thin layer of silk to guard you against the night, the belt of the robe growing looser with each move.

You get to your feet, naked soles slipping on the leaves and dirt. You throw out your arms to keep your balance as you race into the dark. You keep your hands ahead of you to keep from crashing into some unseen barrier. You squint, the vague outline of the trees speckled all around.

“Is that a fawn I hear?” Bucky’s voice rises tauntingly above you, “or a little kitten?”

You gasp and hurl yourself forward, twisting and turning without direction. Your only purpose is to get away. To keep afoot. You cannot stop, you cannot hide. They will find you.

“Cute little kitten… thinks she can outrun a wolf,” Bucky chortles as you hear his steady, patient steps. He doesn’t run, he walks with a certain pace. He has no doubt as you’re swept up in all of yours.

You slip again, crashing into the soft ground, rolling down a small ditch. The silk parts, exposing your chest and stomach. You try to fix it as you puff and stagger to your feet. You tighten the knot and fall forward. You claw your way up the rise and crest the ridge.

“You sound scared, starshine,” Steve’s timbre wafts through the chill, “I can hear your heartbeat…”

“I hear it too,” Bucky’s voice counters from your other side.

You spin around, searching through the void, lashing out protectively. The world tilts and turns violently as you whimper and thrash your arms.

“Please, please, don’t–”

“Run.”

Bucky’s breath tickles the back of your ear and you yipe. You obey without a thought. You sprint ahead, pumping your arms and length as you sob and race into the blackness. Your feet pound against the forest floor, twigs and pebbles cutting up your flesh.

He’s behind you. Running. You hear the steps just behind yours. Your chest burns and your nerves scatter. You hit a wall and bounces back, colliding into another behind you.

You're crushed between the bodies of the men as they close in on you, grabbing as you robe as you weakly try to fend them off. You squeak and squeal as the robe falls away and the silk is peeled from your shoulders. The fabric pools at your feet, slipping beneath them as you kick up frantically.

Bucky loops his arms through yours and pulls them above your head. You whine as Steve’s calloused fingertips brush up your stomach and he gropes your chest. You squirm as he explores your naked flesh, thumbs rolling around your hard nipples and tracing between your tits.

“Guess it’s a tie?” Bucky purrs.

“Nah, I got her first,” Steve growls.

“Bullshit.”

“We can share.”

“You can have her mouth,” Steve grabs your chin.

Bucky brings his hand up, poking two fingers into your mouth as Steve squeezes your jaw. You nearly gag as Bucky pokes at the back of your tongue. You bite down on his metal digits and he hums.

“Fine, one hole’s just as sweet as the next, right, sugarplum?”

Steve pulls his hand back and grips the back of your head. He shoves you forward till you bend, his other hand clasps around your hips as he keeps your ass against him. You smell the blood and scent that lingers on his dirty uniform.

He wiggles against you as Bucky cups your chin and brings your head up. You bat your lashes as hot tears well and spill over. You whine and quiver as you reach out to cling to his pants. The soft whisper of his zipper cuts through the din of the nocturnal forest.

His hard tip presses against your lips as he keeps his hold on you. He pushes into your mouth as you let him. You can’t fight. You’ve fallen into their trap. He slides into your throat and you suck in air around him.

Steve shifts behind you, his pants slackening as he leans against you. You feel his veiny length rub along your ass. He trails his tip down the curve of your flesh. You shiver as he glides down along your cunt and lines himself up.

"Can you feel how desperate she is for you?" Steve growls.

He inches into you as you let out a murmur around Bucky’s intrusion. You cling tighter to Bucky as he rocks and Steve dips deeper and deeper. Your walls clench him and your feet slip on the dirt. He steadies you as he builds his tempo.

"I feel her shaking… sorry, I got a bit carried away Rogers, but you know how that pussy just begs for it," Bucky huffs.

The noise of your degradation echoes around you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your blood sears through your veins. You can’t breath as they use you, back and forth, stretching and bending you to their will. You are nothing more than what they make of you.

Steve runs his hand up above your ass, a sharp tap as he ruts. Bucky wrenches your head back, sinking further in as he gags you. You babble helplessly as your face streams in futility.

Steve leans over you, ramming himself to his limit as he snakes his hand around your neck. Bucky pets your head as he groans. Steve purrs as the Bucky bulges in your throat.

"Mmm, fuck, she takes it so good," Steve grits out, "why are you hiding, baby girl, when your body needs this?"

He pulls you back, sliding you off of Bucky. The other man grunts and exhales sharply as his wet dick prods your cheek.

Steve wraps his thick arm around your neck and pulls you straight as he stands. He keeps you locked with his bicep as Bucky steps closer.

Bucky lifts your left leg, hooking it over Steve’s free arm, before raising your other. He keeps it bent to your chest as he lines up with your entrance. You mewl as he slowly forces his way in. Your cunt stretches painfully around both of them, burning hotter the further he gets.

Both men bury themselves to their limit. You whimper and cough, throat still raw and ragged. You tilt your head back as Steve's arm curls tighter around your neck.

You huff and heavy as they work in tandem, fucking into you, crushing you between their ruts. You bounce helplessly, muscles straining as every part of your clenches.

"Mm, baby girl," Steve moans, "you like that, don't you?"

"Huh, the captain isn't good enough. You need the sergeant too," Bucky teases, "that's it doll, you like to be used."

You shudder and shut your eyes against another wave of tears. You grasp Steve’s side and Bucky’s arm, trying to slow both of them. You cannot. You can only steel yourself against the barrage of their desire.

You plunge into the void of both world and mind. You let it consume you just as they do. The friction of bodies, the theft of your autonomy, the assault of your very being. The heroes that shine in light turn to monsters in the depths of the dark.

⭐

The sun rises through the window, casting a soft hue over the hungover scene. Limbs tangled in each other, body heat mingling to sweltering, a prison of flesh on either side of you. Steve’s arm is slung around your side as Bucky’s metal hand rests on your head, cradling your cheek, a gesture less gentle than it would look.

You can barely breathe as you watch the shadows tilt and fade over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t move, not just for the fact that they won’t let you, rather the agony that coils around you. You are worn to the bone, stretched and stained by their hunger.

You tremble as Steve groans and his fingers crawl along your side. He nestles closer and presses his nose into your hair. As they’ve slept, you’ve lain in torturous consciousness. You cannot hide, not even in your own mind. Sleep is no escape, it cannot free you from the inevitable.

“Starshine,” he rasps as he kisses your crown, brushing his fingertips along your hip. He takes your hand in his and raises it. He plays with it, folding your thumb inward as he pushes his fingers between yours. “Wake him up.”

“Captain?” You murmur as you curl your fingers beside his.

“Go on, show him a good morning,” he goads as he leads your hand down, hovering it above Bucky’s dick, half-erect already.

You let him wrap your hand around Bucky’s length. He inhales abruptly but does not open his eyes. You watch his face as Steve guides you to his tip and back down to his base. He pumps your touch up and down until Bucky’s rigid and tense.

Bucky’s dark lashes part and he stretches his thumb under your chin, clutching your face tight as he groans. His lips curl slightly as a dimple pits in his cheek. You gasp as Steve lets you go, rescinding his hand to dip along your pelvis. He slips his fingers down and burrows between your folds, a current radiating from your clit to your nape.

“Don’t stop till he cums,” Steve snarls as his nails dig into your skin.

“Yes, Captain,” you reply as you watch Bucky’s face contort, blue eyes drowning you.

It is better to obey than to hide. Easier to accept than deny. Just as you cannot fight these men, you cannot fight the fate they’ve confined you to.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #sequel #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier

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soliloquent-stark · 3 months

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📄 annex 11 by soliloquent

1,3k words // pairing: tony stark & steve rogers

—⎊—

“This annex document, filed by SHIELD operatives under the designation SR-NR-CB-AS/000008-11, contains a verbatim transcript of a conversation between Anthony E. Stark (callsign Iron Man) and Steven G. Rogers (callsign Captain America) as recorded by Iron Man’s advanced artificial intelligence, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

or: Trapped together during a snowstorm in the middle of a mission, Steve attempts to soothe Tony’s growing anxiety, only to discover that Tony had the solution all along.

written for the @cap-ironman 2023 holiday exchange

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vertigoartgore · 2 months

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1985's Uncanny X-Men Vol.1 #198 cover by Barry Windsor-Smith.

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justkending · 10 months

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Found Memories. Chapter 1.

Finding Memories Sequel: (I advise you to read the 1st series for context).

Series Summary: Following the aftermath of Finding Memories, Bucky tries to complete goals he feels she would have discovered for herself as a way to let her memory live on. However, he never expected to find someone very close to who he believed she would have been if given the chance of normalcy. A journey of mourning someone he lost, turned into a journey of discovering someone new, happens upon the soldier. Maybe this whole normal thing isn’t as bad as he had pictured it in his mind. Maybe he had a better shot at it than he ever tried to imagine.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader insert

Chapter Word Count: 4000+

A/N (PLEASE READ): So I may or may not have gone back on my deal to not post until I finished writing it all, but I'm 15 chapters in, and though I have a ton more to write, I wanted to drop the first chapter for my Finding Memories people to have some closure, and also to see where Bucky's story plans to lead.

This series is told through 1st person unlike a lot of my others, but I realize I like this style a lot more. So all this is from Bucky's perspective in this chapter. I also understand this may seem a little confusing with this being a reader insert for both these stories, so using Y/N will make it harder to tell the difference between the characters. I’ll be calling our previous Y/N from the Finding Memories series, Sloan, just to avoid confusion. But please don’t let that take away from any of the personal aspects of the story. This is just a continued story of Bucky finding happiness after the ending of Finding Memories. (Just think of it as him falling for you 2x ;) There is a note at the bottom after reading so please read that when you finish!

Last note! For each chapter, I am connecting a song from the playlist our last reader left and Bucky took on his own. The song will play off the vibes of each chapter. You don't have to listen if you don't want to, but it is here as a little piece of Bucky's theme (sometimes thought processes and feelings) in each chapter. Enjoy!

Playlist song: At Last by: Etta James

Chapter 1:

4 years and 364 days had gone by since her passing.

Almost 5 years, 2 weeks, and 4 days since I had rescued her.

I think the reason it stuck with me was that this was one of those missions that carrying on like normal afterwards, wasn’t really an option.

When you lose someone on the field, whether you know them or not, a piece of you is saddened that someone lost their life. Normal. Human. Emotions.

However, you feel depressed and emotionally stuck when it’s someone you had become familiar with and plan to continue to grow familiar with.

It hurt even more when it was someone who deserved to go far in life and learn so many things about themselves in a healthy and safe environment. It was a stab to the heart to know she never saw that for herself and had made a decision no one should be put in the position to make.

But it happened. In the very likely chance someone was to find her and use her for her powers again, she erased all possibilities of it getting into the wrong hands. And with it erased all chances to experience the good in the world as well.

After she died, Bruce and Tony tested her blood to find what the other mutation was even if I knew for the most part.

We didn’t have much time to understand it, or for her to really explain all the pieces that came with her enhancements that she seemed to remember the day before her ultimate fate. But from what she had passed onto me in the last moments of her life, I feel like I had some kind of grasp of it.

Her hand over my heart seconds before her powers consumed her was more than just a sentimental goodbye. She shared within that touch her fears, her intentions, her understandings, and the peace she found in her decision.

It was something I could never explain in words to someone else, but it was a feeling that made me understand why it all had to come to the end that it did.

She had told me the night before, that her powers were created from the cosmos, and it was a power that could bring an end to society and the world we try so hard to keep afloat in what feels like constant choppy waters.

She didn’t have to go into too much depth about what all that meant, but it would soon be proven within hours of explaining to me that we would not get the end we hoped for.

I can’t lie and say I never expected things to take the turns they did. I live the life I have constantly considering the worst-case scenarios, and her death was always one of those scenarios as soon as we saved her in that hidden terrorist facility.

Bruce and Tony confirmed that her gifts were something that could be world-ending and quickly incinerated her blood so that no one could get ahold of that kind of power down the line.

The wishes she made on her deathbed were met and I was trying to meet all the other ones she had made and never got the chance to do herself.

It took me a while to go into her room and start to clean out the few personal items she had slowly gathered in the short time she was there, but really there wasn’t much to clean.

She had a few plants. I took one and Wanda took the other. Her clothes were either taken by Wanda or Nat and the rest were donated.

She had some books that had been gifted to her about random things she had found interest in while trying to find herself. A cookbook, a book on herbs and plants she used to read to put a name to the plants on the compound during her walks, and some history books Parker was kind enough to loan her so she could catch up with the world around her.

The only other thing of significance I found, and didn’t realize was something she kept, was a journal. It was in the nightstand drawer, but it had been hidden under all the other books she had collected.

Inside, it was a list of notes she made about those she had become close with.

1. Wanda is from Sokovia and she had a brother named Pietro whom she misses dearly. 2. Nat had a sister that’s on missions across seas and sees her every other month, but they keep in contact when able. 3. Bruce has 7 PhDs but has test anxiety. 4. Tony blast rock music that can be heard 3 levels above. (check songs to see if they spark anything…) 5. Bucky acts like Sam annoys him, but I secretly think they’re just as good of friends as he and Steve are. 6. Steve and Bucky grew up together and from what Nat said, “One looks for trouble the other follows cause he still sees Steve as a 90lb Brooklyn kid.” 7. Sam is from Louisanna and mentioned making a shrimp boil… (Still need to look that up...) 8. Bucky likes to prank Sam and Steve in small ways that they never figure out and it drives them slightly insane. 9. Spiderboy is incredibly smart but is also somehow very naive to the teasing he gets from everyone else. 10. Movie nights are something that everyone gets excited about and they all have very different tastes in movies to show me. So far, I've enjoyed the comedies the most. (Peter picked the movie Grown-ups and some of the things they do make no sense and are extremely goofy, but I think that's why I liked it...)

The list went on for about five pages of random things she discovered and felt were important to know about the team and sometimes even herself.

But in the back, only found if you looked through each page of the small journal, was a list of things she wanted to try once she felt ready and was given the chance to.

It didn’t feel right ripping the pages out for myself, or taking the journal and ruining it with my scribbles, so I copied the list in a notebook of my own and added some things I think she would have enjoyed if I was given the chance to show her.

She only got about 24 things written that she wanted to experience in the real world. Most of which were simple things most take for granted having the choice to do any day.

Right now I was looking at number seven;

7. Go to a coffee shop and try different drinks with cinnamon in them. Find a favorite, so I can eventually say, “I’ll have the usual,” like they do in the movies.

It was hard to know what her favorite would have been, but I did the best I could. Eventually, I had a usual at the coffee shop I started the adventure on.

“He’s back.” The barista whose head was in the pastry display shot up and smiled toward me. “It’s been a minute since we’ve seen you. Life or work in the way this time?”

“What’s the difference?” I responded though it came across a little more melancholy than I meant.

Luckily, Trudy, the shop owner, had become familiar with me enough to know it’s just how I talk.

“Get him the usual, dear,” she said to the worker at the front as she wrapped a muffin and handed it to a customer waiting on the side.

When the worker just looked at her wide-eyed and freaked out, Trudy laughed to herself and pointed her to another task.

“Forgot she’s only been here for 2 days,” Trudy’s New York accent was strong as she typed in my regular order. “So. Any big bad guys in the world I should be worryin’ about or do you have it handled?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Trud,” I smiled as she grabbed a cup and wrote one of her new names for me on it. She was clever with what she could come up with depending on the day. “Sorry, I haven’t been in. I was sent overseas for a bit the last few weeks.”

“You haven’t come in a month,” she said with a raised motherly eyebrow.

“Hate to break it to ya, but there are bad guys I have to take care of over here too. They keep me just as busy sometimes,” I chuckled, moving out of the way in case someone else needed to order.

“Yeah, yeah,” she groaned, grabbing a pastry and wrapping it up for me. “I made a new recipe from my Italian side of the family. Give it a try,” she stuck a sticker on it to seal the bag and came around the counter to give it to me. “Tell me how you like it.”

“How much?” I went on to grab cash knowing she likely wouldn’t let me pay anyway.

“Cost ya a review on Yelp,” she pushed it on me more. “I had someone come in the other day and try and cheat the system to get free stuff, and when I wouldn’t budge she lowered my rating on the damn website.”

“I don’t think one bad rating will hurt ya, Trud,” I sighed, taking it and putting the cash in the tip jar instead.

“Eh, I like to counter it with a good one where I can. Plus, I’m running out of fake emails to do it myself. Help a gal out.”

I laughed knowing she may have been a small hole-in-the-wall business, but she got enough foot traffic to keep her afloat even if she joked about going under if I didn’t give her reviews and tell my friends about it.

Before I could give her peace of mind knowing I’d help in any way she asked me, the bell rang as another customer came in.

I looked back absentmindedly and saw a woman with her head down while she talked on the phone, but was kind enough to go to the side and finish her conversation before walking to the register.

“That drink ready?” Trudy shouted to the back and just in time a barista walked out with the cup of my “usual” drink and handed it off. “I’ll be seeing ya sometime soon, right?” She withheld the coffee until I confirmed.

“Tomorrow,” I promised knowing I had one thing planned and I knew it wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Good. Have a good one, Boomer,” she winked and I looked to see the name matched on the cup.

“What does that mean?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Something the kids are calling old people like you and me,” she shrugged. “Figured if I was going to be called it, you should too.”

I rolled my eyes playfully before giving a final goodbye and heading toward the doors. The woman that had come in was hanging up the phone and happened to look up at the same time I passed.

She had soft eyes and smiled up at me in a polite way before sidestepping and moving to the counter.

I couldn’t help but stop with my hand on the door handle as I looked at her trying to grasp who she reminded me of.

She had kind features and her light smile was what made me do a double take. I may have imagined it, but something about her beamed at me in a way that I couldn't shake.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when someone else tried to come in and I quickly opened the door for them and moved out of the way. But I looked in the shop one more time seeing Trudy smiling back at the woman and sharing a similar banter she had with me.

I honed in my hearing some and caught the middle of the conversation.

“I would ask if you want your normal order, but it’s been so long I’m not sure if it’s the same,” Trudy teased.

“The move has been great. Thanks for asking Trudy,” the woman remarked with a laugh.

It would become creepy pretty quickly with me just staring and eavesdropping in the doorway, so I moved on even if I was intrigued to hear the rest of this conversation.

I took my time walking to my car since the woman’s face was sticking in my mind. Something seemed oddly familiar of her, but I couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

________________________

“Hey, I was looking for you!” Sam’s voice sounded as soon as I walked into the kitchen.

“I’d rather you weren’t,” I said back, going to the trash to throw my cardboard cup away and grab a snack from the fridge.

“Hardy, har, har,” Sam responded. “But really. I need help with a file I can’t access.”

“Maybe you can’t access it for a reason,” I gave a smug smile to him as I shut the fridge and took a bite out of the apple I stole from it.

“You're really channeling that clown energy as Parker would say today, aren't you?” he gave me a straight face before pulling papers I hadn’t noticed beforehand and passed them to me. “It’s just some notes on a mission we did last week, but I need to tweak some things. For some reason, the file isn’t giving me access so I was going to ask if I can go through your account.”

“Have Tony look at your account. Maybe the clearance level got mixed up. He had a new protection server put in the other week and a few accounts were tweaked.”

“Well, he's not in his lab.”

“Ok,” I dragged out. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Barnes, just let me on your account for two seconds to fix it and then I’ll go and find him. It won’t take me longer than five minutes,” Sam groaned.

I could continue to give him a hard time, but I needed to get some things ready for tomorrow and wasn’t in the mood to keep up my normal antics.

“Fine. Where’s your computer?” I huffed, biting into the apple again and waiting for him to bring it to me.

He smiled like he won, even though I could still say no if I wanted, and grabbed the laptop on the counter and handed it off to me.

I logged in like normal and went to the file, but was stopped when I came to the same problem he had.

“What the hell?” I glared at the screen and tried a few more tricks but this new protective program Tony had installed was foreign to me.

“Damn it,” Sam crossed his arms and sighed. “You’re the third person now. Why won’t it let me see this damn file?”

I looked at him waiting for him to explain.

“I asked Nat and Wanda too. No luck,” he shrugged.

That was strange. It was a file from the mission we had done last week. A thief that had been stealing intel from some division in the SHEILD operations over some classified information, but we had captured and incarcerated the hacker.

“Friday,” I asked into the void and her voice followed.

“How can I help, Sargent Barnes?”

“Why aren’t we able to get into these files?”

There was a pause as she tried to find the answer.

“It seems to be in a classification you don’t have access to. Clearance levels are not high enough. Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?”

Sam and I shared a look that showed we were on the same page. There were very few things we didn't have access to, so the system was screwed or not modified after the update. At least that was to hoping it was something that simple.

“No. Where’s Tony at?” I asked instead.

“He’s headed to the lobby. He has an appointment with Ms. Clark.”

The name didn’t sound familiar, though there were a lot of people Stark talked to that I never cared to learn about. He was the face of the team anyway, so luckily he handled a majority of the social aspects of our job.

“Thanks, Friday,” I nodded my head to the exit.

Sam nodded in agreement and we made our way to the lobby to find him.

It wasn’t a portion of the compound we were usually in, so seeing people in business suits coming and going always reminded me of the mass amount of workers who never did fieldwork that came and went.

“Stark,” I shouted once I spotted him at one of the reception desks talking with the secretary that was handing him papers she had just printed.

He turned at his name and looked at us both confused as to why we would be there.

“Got a question for ya,” Sam started out.

“Can it wait? I have a meeting with someone I actually like,” he said sarcastically.

Before I had the chance to spit something back at him and give him a taste of his own medicine, Sam took over.

“I need access to a file of the mission report we just came back from, but it’s not allowing me to get to it,” he summed up.

“Strange,” Tony hummed, looking at the papers he was previously handed as if our issue was nothing for him to worry about.

“It won’t let me through either,” I said and he eventually looked up rolling his eyes before putting the papers on the counter and giving us his attention finally.

“Can this wait like 20 minutes?” he asked.

“It might be because of your new and overly complicated-” I started and once again, Sam saved me from saying something that would probably have Tony ignoring us the rest of the week if I wasn't careful.

“We’ll wait,” Sam nodded. “We’ll be over there.”

He pointed to a few chairs off to the side and nodded his head for me to follow. Though I was against the motion, I obliged to not make matters more annoying. I’d give him 20 minutes, but I was just as intrigued by this issue as Sam was now.

Tony went back to the secretary and grabbed the papers looking through them before grabbing a pen and sloppily marking random things out before handing it back.

Just as he turned back, he seemed to have spotted who he was looking for to begin with and I followed his eyeline.

Walking in and looking around marveling at the size of the place before seeing Tony and smiling at him, was the same woman who I had seen at the coffee shop. The same one who was talking to Trudy about a move.

I must have been staring while she and Tony met in the middle and started casually conversing. She reached into the tote she was carrying and handed Tony what looked like a sweater and a folder, but he only took the piece of clothing leaving her with just the folder still in hand.

My stare must have been unmoving cause Sam nudged me with his shoulder and gave me a weird look when I broke out of my trance.

“What are you gawking at?” he asked, looking where I was and raising his eyebrows. “Oh, I see.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and gave him a disapproving look to show his mind wasn’t in the right place.

“Shut up,” I grunted, slouching some in my spot, but only to show disinterest in an attempt to push him off my case.

“No, I get it. She’s a pretty lady,” Sam chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his own seat. “Just didn’t see you looking for something like that anytime soon-”

“Don’t get any ideas,” I cut him off. “I saw her at a coffee shop earlier today and she just looked familiar. That’s it.”

He looked from me back at the girl and turned his head as he analyzed her.

She was smiling at something Stark was saying and shaking her head about whatever it was he was grinning about. I wasn’t sure what the conversation could even be about, and with the loud echoing space, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what was being shared.

“I have an idea,” Sam spoke up after a second and stood up without any hesitance, and walked towards the two.

“Sam, wait! Stop! What are you doing?” I whisper shouted sitting up and looking around as if someone else was in on this idea with him.

When he didn’t turn back or let up in his steps, I was quickly on my feet trying to get ahead of him to stop him, but he was walking faster causing us to interrupt the two abruptly and throw them both off.

“Hi,” Sam smiled kindly at her then back at Stark.

“I told you I would help you after I talked with-,” Tony started, but Sam patted his shoulder and made him pause.

“Sam Wilson,” he went on to introduce himself while putting his other hand out for her.

The woman seemed surprised by the introduction, but she was kind nonetheless and extended her own hand before introducing herself.

“Y/N Clark,” she smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

Sam turned to me and she followed his look. I wasn’t prepared to talk to her, but I wasn’t going to be rude and just sit there silently and stare at her.

I extended my hand as well and she smiled at the motion.

“James Barnes,” I gave a tight smile, but it wasn’t because of her, it was because I was seconds from punching Sam right in the chest for putting me in this position.

“Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you,” she nodded, returning the handshake and it was surprisingly firm.

I would have paid mind to the detail, but now being in close proximity to the woman, I was seeing features that I hadn’t taken in before.

She had Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, and her smile was one I had seen before. She was wearing a bright red checkered winter coat that sat on top of a tan sweater tucked into a nice pair of brown slacks. It seemed fitting for her even if I hadn’t known anything about her. But something in her persona showed she was kind and had a welcoming nature.

Tony rolled his eyes once again and decided to go ahead and introduce us.

“Cyborge and Birdman, this is Ms. Clark. She’s Morgan’s teacher. Ms. Clark, these are two of my most impatient coworkers,” Tony motioned to us. “Who I asked to give me a second before I talked with them…” The glare he was giving us pulled me away from staring at her longer than what would have been socially acceptable.

“Thank this one for the interruption,” I shouldered Sam harshly which he became slightly unbalanced from and gave me another glare.

“Just seemed rude to not introduce your colleagues,” Sam gritted through his teeth, talking to me when the comment was directed to Tony.

“It’s fine,” Ms. Clark spoke up, breaking the growing tension between us three, and I immediately turned my attention back to her. “I was here to just drop off these two things anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I had a few things I wanted to discuss without,” Tony continued, only taking a second in between to send us yet another death stare, “this interruption.”

“I appreciate what you’re offering, but I’ve already told you I have a job set with another district after this year,” she smiled professionally, and I couldn’t help but smile myself at seeing someone say no to Tony.

“Yeah, but… Money.” His eat-shit grin worked on the weak-minded, but clearly, she was not that.

“Money is great and all, but it's not what this is about, Mr. Stark,” she chuckled, readjusting her tote on her shoulder. "Maybe after winter break and I get some paperwork back from the new school I'll be at, we will better understand what I'll have on my plate."

“That sounds like a well-worded way to put this conversation off,” Tony smirked.

She returned it which proved he was right, but she wasn’t falling for his schemes still.

“It’s Christmas break, Mr. Stark. Have a great vacation with your family and happy holidays,” she nodded, turning to walk out, but not completely turned away. “You two as well. I hope the world is kind enough to give you all a break as you deserve during this time.”

“If I know anything about teaching, I know you’ll be needing a break just as much,” Sam shouted in her direction with a smile.

She laughed at that and it was a sound that made it hard not to smile as a reaction to it.

“Happy Holidays,” she said one final time, waving kindly and moving to the exit.

“Well, she seems nice,” Sam grinned in a teasing manner and turned to face us both by taking her place.

“This is why I haven’t brought her around here,” Tony sighed heavily and ran a hand through his beard. “Now, what do you two want?”

Sam followed quickly after Tony, who was already walking back to the lab, but I couldn’t seem to pull my eyes from the red checkered jacket that was out the doors now and walking down the steps.

It was another feeling that I couldn’t quite put into words…

I unfortunately don't have a release date for the next chapter as I am going to stick to my promise of finishing the series before I post any further. This is just to give an idea of what's to come! As always, any likes or reblogs, and comments (even if just a heart or a gif) makes my blood, sweat, and tears for this series feel validated :') ANYWHO!! I'm excited to share with you all the stories to come with this series and these characters because in writing them, I've fallen in love with them myself.

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