I have this really weird head canon that every time an interviewer asks Bucky about how he feels about Steve, Bucky talks about Steve like he's an ex that left him on read and not a superhero who abandoned the timeline.
part of the 1000 lives ‘verse, aka my: Bucky and Tony are soulmates and Tony gets captured by HYDRA and they fall in love but then after TWS Bucky escapes but Tony doesn’t and now Bucky is desperately trying to find Tony and save his soulmate - verse.
this is a timestamp of Tony and Bucky’s time at HYDRA. reading the first fic in the series is recommended but not necessarily required to understand this fic. you can always read this one first and then read the first fic later on
//
13 kills (1991)
The boy appears to be attempting to escape, as he presses his feet against the wall and tugs at his chains over and over, even though it must be hurting him to do so. Briefly, the Asset wonders if it should explain to the boy that escape is not possible, that HYDRA does not allow for such things, but it has not been told to speak to the boy, so it says nothing.
“You could help, you know,” the boy spits out, and it takes a couple of seconds for the Asset to realise that the boy is addressing it. “Bet that metal arm of yours would come in real handy right about now. My father isn’t going to pay my ransom, he never does, so you might as well KILL ME!” The boy tilts his head back and shouts the last two words, talking to people who aren’t in the room.
“What does this kind of job pay anyway?” the boy asks. “Is it really worth it? Stealing teenagers from their dorm rooms? You must really be important to them if they fitted you with a prosthesis like that.” The boy eyes its metal arm, but unlike when the Scientist used to eye the arm, there is no shudder down the Asset’s spine. It doesn’t feel the urge to flinch or cower away because there’s no spite in the boy’s look - for all the vitriol he’s spitting - only curiosity.
“I would love to get my hands on that thing,” the boy says, more to himself than anyone else, before giving the Asset a slow once-over, “I’d like to get my hands on all of you, if you weren’t some sort of creepy kidnapper. Rhodey’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out I have a hard-on for my kidnapper. This is some Stockholm Syndrome type shit.”
The boy looks like he’s about to say more, but he’s interrupted by another presence in the room. The Asset looks away from the boy, and it’s back instantly stiffens when it recognises the Handler. It jumps to its feet, sticking a foot out to still the rattling metal bed-frame, and instantly assumes parade-rest.
“At ease, soldier, ” the Handler says in an amused tone, a half smile on his lips. He doesn’t, however, make any motion for the Asset to sit, or any indication that his words are any more than just that, words, so the Asset remains standing, hands clasped behind its back.
“Anthony Stark,” the Handler says, crouching down on his knees, and reaching out to grip the boy’s jaw firmly. To his credit, the boy stares defiantly back at the Handler, and the Asset thinks that if it weren’t for the hand pressing into his cheeks, the boy might actually attempt to spit on the Handler.
“Pierce,” the boy musters out, in between gritted teeth, “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just called ahead. There was no need for all this.” The boy waves his hands around, as best he can since they’re being weighed down by chains, “I would’ve scheduled you in.”
“Now we both know that isn’t true,” the Handler says, almost fondly, “What was it you said when I sent Fury looking for you last month? That you’d keep us on hold just to watch the line blink. That’s highly unprofessional Tony, surely your father taught you better than that.”
The boy, Tony, attempts to smile. “He did. Never did put much stock into the old man’s lessons. Bit too old fashioned for my taste.”
The Handler tsks, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, my boy. It’s a shame, because he’s no longer around to drop those pearls of wisdom on you. I would really start cherishing those memories. What is that saying, ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’?’”
The Handler drops his grip on Tony’s jaw, and pushes himself off the floor, dusting his knees. Some of the dirt falls on Tony’s face, and Tony shakes his head vigorously, closing and opening his eyes rapidly. He’s shaking, much like he was when the Asset first entered, but this time, the Asset thinks it’s from anger.
“Asset!” The Handler barks, and it stiffens. “Mission Report. December 16, 1991.”
“Mission: Extraction and Execution. Primary Target: Super-soldier serum,” the Asset intones, “Secondary Target: Howard Stark. Collateral: Maria Stark.”
Tony inhales a sharp breath, exhaling in a splutter like he’s being choked, but the Handler pays him no mind, so the Asset continues.
“Serum extracted at 0200 hours. Secondary target neutralised. Collateral neutralised. Return to base at 0500 hours. Mission successful.”
The Handler nods, once at the Asset, and another time, more firmly, at Tony.
“Like I said,” the Handler says to Tony, “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” Tony doesn’t seem to be paying the Handler any mind, instead glaring at the Asset, and doesn’t even notice when the Handler leaves the room. There’s an outwardly calm that’s overtaken Tony that it is stark contrast to the way he was shivering with anger, and yet, the Asset does not think he is actually calm, not in the slightest.
“You killed my mother, you son of a bitch,” Tony finally murmurs, “I’m gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you.”
**
15 kills (1992)
It is unusual for the Handler to oversee the defrosting process. Normally, when the Asset is brought out of cryo, it is only the Scientist that is waiting for him, flanked by two agents. Occasionally, the Doctor will make an appearance too, if it has been particularly long since the Asset has been wiped.
The Chair means that the Asset does not remember much of anything, but it has come to recognise the tug in it’s gut, that informs it that something is amiss. It should probably inform the Doctor of this malfunction, but it is a feeling that has served the Asset well on previous Missions, so it does not say anything.
It opens its eyes despite the cold, blinking away the remnants of ice that have collected on it’s eyelashes, and waits until it is ordered to sit up. It is when the Asset sits up that it notices the Handler, and the boy standing beside the Handler - arms handcuffed behind him and an old cloth shoved into his mouth.
There is something vaguely familiar about the boy, but the Asset does not know what.
When the Handler realises that he has the Asset’s attention, he raises the hand not resting on the boy’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers. The Handler is smiling, and muttering something to the boy that is causing a complicated amount of emotions on his face, and even makes the boy shuffle forward as if to approach the Asset - before the Handler pulls him back.
“Dr. Barnett, would you mind so kind as to prep the Asset for the Chair?” the Handler asks, even though his tone suggests that it isn’t a request. “I do believe our newest guest requires a demonstration on the repercussions of non-compliance.”
The Asset stiffens ever so slightly at the mention of the Chair but otherwise makes no indication that it is aware of what is happening.
It has been defrosted in the Recalibration Room, so it is simply a matter of stepping out of the cryo chamber, and walking across the room to the Chair. Without instruction, the Asset spreads out its hands and allows itself to be strapped down, relaxing its jaw and clenching down on the plastic bit that is fitted between its teeth.
The Chair rocks back ever so slightly, just as the harness comes down and attaches itself to both of the Asset’s temples, and the Asset involuntarily closes its eyes as electricity courses through its body, forcing it to arch it’s back and lift it’s head up in a silent scream.
“You see, my boy?” it dimly hears the Handler, almost inaudible over the sound of blood rushing through its ears, “Zola wanted us to Wipe you, turn you into an automaton just like Barnes. But I knew better, I knew that there were easier ways to gain your allegiance.”
The pain ebbs and flows, as the Scientist modulates the dials. The Asset is granted a small reprieve, no longer than a breath, before the electricity is ramped up again.
“Stop! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? Stop please! I’ll do whatever you want!”
Just as quick as the electricity is increased, it is abruptly stopped, and the Asset sags against the Chair, taking big, heaving breaths through the bit in its mouth.
“So we have a deal then?” the Handler asks, and a voice that the Asset cannot place replies, “Yes. You stop, you stop torturing him like this, and I’ll do whatever you want. No more fights.”
The Handler is looming over the Asset’s line of sight, presumably having moved closer while the Asset was being Wiped, and he’s smiling.
“Brilliant,” the Handler is looking at the Asset, but the words are meant for someone else. “First order of business - you’re going to upgrade the Asset’s arm. I don’t think it’s been worked on since the 1950s, and that’s an awfully long time, don’t you think?”
“Soldier,” the Handler says, and now the Handler is talking to the Asset, “It’s time you met your new partner in crime. Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”
The Asset spits out the bit, because its hands are still strapped down, and repeats, “Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”
Next to the Handler, the boy, the Assistant, attempts to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.
continue reading on ao3!!
Legacy Masterlist
Tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Reader
@spideysriddle for the awesome aesthetic!
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Summary: When you get the call from Bucky about a potential mission, you didn’t think it would change your life in more ways than one.
The Call: Bucky calls you with a mission, and you can’t help but accept.
Aftermath: Following the fight with the Flag Smashers, you need a certain brunette super-soldier to help you get through your injuries.
The Final Session: After getting him out of jail, Bucky realizes that you might have to turn to an old foe in order to get information about the new super soldiers running around Europe.
The Conversation: Having a moment to spare, you and Bucky have the opportunity to talk about what happened and what it means. After seeing Zemo, Bucky runs you and Sam through a hypothetical that turns out to be not so hypothetical.
Stay In Character: Going to Madripoor, you, Sam, and Bucky are forced to play roles of people you are not. It takes a toll on some more than others.
Coming Soon!
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Tag List:
@confusednerd09 @ahahafudge @bluemoon-icecream @lunamadhatter99 @thatfangirl42 @fionanovasleftnut @friendly-letters @youcanstandundermyamberella @caritobbg
Sam : Bucky No >:(
Bucky : Bucky yes >:(
Zemo : Bucky No *-*
Bucky : Bucky No :)
Bucky flirted with Sarah. Yes it happened. And it's anti-black to imply otherwise. Yall need to stop with the misogynoir. Sarah is a beautiful woman and Bucky clearly has taste. It's a win for the sarahbuckys. The antis frothing at the mouth won't change that. And I know it's the crossover stuckys (new sambuckys but really still just stuckys) doing this.
Bucky talked about living with Sam, yes it happened (that's what I heard anyway) and it doesn't take away from the fact that he flirted with Sarah. And of course sambuckys are excited as hell about it, myself included. It's stupid to expect us not to be. We been shipping them for over 5 years, canon or not, we are enjoying this content and what it could mean for our ship.
Both ships can co-exist without this stupid and incredibly embarrassing fandom drama over Bucky's yt ass. Geezus fuck. Let both fandoms just stick to their respective tags and there's really no need for cross-tagging. And I wish the stuckys now masquerading as sambucky stans would quit this shit. Both real sambucky stans and sarahbucky shippers have to endure misogynoir and racism from a lot of you and we're tired and now it's causing shit between both fandoms. Ugh
A/B/O in which Sam and Bucky are two alphas misreading the sexual tension between them for territorial tension, but hey how's possibile that we start fighting and growling and snapping but we always end up with fangs and other things throbbing and so horny it fucking hurts? it's a mistery for real we're so confu- oh
request: nope
pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Royal AU
summary: he was desperately looking to be an ordinary man for a day. she never liked extraordinary things either anyways.
word count: about 1.3K
warnings: none that I can think of
A/N: this is my first AU. I made up the town names, just in case. criticism is appreciated as long as it's respectful!
Emelle is the name of the town this story is set in.
(gif and photo not mine, credits to the owner)
Bucky donned the clothes he had requested from his tailor: something befitting a common man, with gloves and sleeves covering up his prosthetic well. This was very much the first time he was wearing simple wool.
He didn't mind, though. Velvets and cashmeres only pleased a man so much. It didn't particularly please anybody who grew up in them, atleast not Bucky.
A quick single rap on his door made him aware that his ride was ready for him. He looked at himself in the mirror for the last time, hoping no man would recognise the prince out of his silks and velvets, and made his way out of his chambers.
He made sure the servants and knights didn't see his face, hoping that if nobody saw him like this, nobody would know the prince was gone for the day.
He wasn't a prince, he had to remind himself. Not today.
For today he was a common man.
James was his name, a man with no last name. A man without a surname meant a bastard, someone most people would not talk too much to. James would be free to explore for however long he pleased, or however long it took for Bucky's mother, the Queen Regent, to realise he was missing and send out knights to find him.
The chariot was waiting for him with his squire and best friend, Steve.
"Everything as planned?" he asked his friend.
Steve nodded and asked him to climb in quickly, lest they risk being seen.
The chariot only took them as far as the castle was in sight. After that, James hopped off and entered the city as a common man.
×××××××××××××
He did not know what he'd expect but he didn't expect, well, so much suffering.
It felt like a bucket of cold water was splashed on his face as he saw the reality of how most lived. It made him all the more determined to be a good prince and, one day, king.
But as he was explaining a rather empty, but economically well off, street with a handful of shops, he chanced upon a girl, possibly the most beautiful and cutest girl he has ever laid eyes on.
And Bucky Barnes had seen some of the most beautiful princesses and noble ladies in the world.
She was handling a bakery with an older woman, possibly her mother.
Without thinking, his legs took him to the shop.
She looked at him, plastering a friendly smile. "Hello, I'm (Y/N). How may I help you, Mister...?"
"James." he smiled. He had almost uttered Bucky.
"Hi, James."
"Hi." He knew he was flustered right now but he couldn't help it.
James didn't have the same confidence Bucky did.
She furrowed her brows in confusion. "How may I help you?" She repeated.
"What all do you have for sale today?" He enquired.
"All kinds of things. Cakes, breads, pies, you name it. Anything special you're looking for?"
"Do you have some plum pie?"
"We do!" She went behind the counter and picked up the pie. "Today is your lucky day, sir, because we don't make plum pies a lot."
"Today is a lucky day, indeed, my lady." He said, gazing at her intently.
She blushed under his attention, not accustomed to it. "Should I pack it?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Anything else?" She wanted him to spend more time at the shop. Not having seen him before, she wasn't sure if he was going to come here again.
"Nothing for now." He was trying hard to come up with an excuse to stay longer. Lord knows when he'll be able to sneak out of the castle like this again, if ever.
She packed the pie, handing him the bag and collecting the money.
"Are you free right now, my lady?" He dared to ask. "I had trouble finding places and was wondering if you could show me around?"
(Y/N) looked at the back of the shop, where her mother was busy doing god knows what. "Mother, can I go with Mister James and show him around for some time?"
Her mother looked up to the man, narrowing her eyes in what (Y/N) calls a motherly inspection. Finding something she was looking for, she softened her gaze and gave her approval, muttering something about a slow day.
(Y/N) put away her apron and came out of the shop, smiling at James. "So are you a tourist?" She asked.
He nodded. "I come from a small town called Aynor." Bucky had heard of the town on his last visit to Sokovia. It was part of his cover up. "It's just on the outskirts of Sokovia."
"Sokovia? I would've never guessed you come from overseas." She said.
For a moment, Bucky thought his ruse was caught, but she started talking about the town plaza and everything was back to normal.
His charade was still up.
×××××××××××××
The day went well. Really well. James and (Y/N) had a spectacular time together. James even learnt (Y/N) didn't like the Royal Family much but she had heard that Prince Bucky was one of the most handsome men in the country. That made him smile and flush slightly.
It was nearing dusk now and both of them were making their way along the river's shoreline that ran parallel to the town, going back to (Y/N)'s shop.
"Thank you for a beautiful day." James said.
"It was my pleasure." Initially, (Y/N) had apprehensions for taking a tourist around the town for free. However, after having an amazing day with the man herself, she almost forgot she wanted to ask for any kind of fee. Her family was well off than most in the city, so she wasn't desperate for the fee either.
"How long are you in town?" She asked the man beside her.
"Just today." He said, both of their smiles deflating.
"Oh. It was a pleasure having you in town today, Mister James."
Bucky hadn't noticed till now that (Y/N) didn't care that James was a bastard. Everybody else before her shared limited words with him. She was different.
"Will you be back soon?"
"I hope so." He said truthfully.
Me too, (Y/N) thought, though she didn't voice it.
The plum pie in James' hand was long gone, both of them sharing it as lunch under a tree near the riverbed.
"Your hands must have magic." James had said to her chewing the first bite of the pie.
(Y/N) had blushed. "My mother makes all the sweets. I only manage the finances."
He had shrugged and looked at her adoringly still.
Now, as her shop neared, she wanted to spend more time with him. He was a gentleman, also funny and witty. She had never met a man like him before.
He didn't seem to chase after all the material things that most people want to boast. For the most day, he was content looking at the town and its attractions, wanting to learn all of the history and townsfolk's opinions. He didn't seem to visit Emelle for its finest and most expensive handicraft, rather came with a genuine interest for the stories.
He was different, in all sense.
Her mother was closing up the shop, violet had already started streaking the sky above, and James had bowed low to both of them, thanking (Y/N) once again for a beautiful day. He took out two copper coins from his pocket, handing them to her as means of a fee.
"You were kind enough to not ask for a fee, but it isn't in my nature to ask for your time for free. You did a great favour to me today. Consider that a thanks." And with that, he turned his back to her. "I have to go now." His steps were brisk, his words hushed. She figured his ship or carriage must be taking off. Although people did not usually travel at night, it was not unknown.
In truth, Bucky had seen some knights further down the road, so he knew his time was up.
Nevertheless, he felt happy for the day he spent, determined to come to her again.
this is a new type of story for me plus this is also my first Bucky fic. please tell me what you thought of this introduction, it's appreciated! this was just to set their relationship a bit, I wish to explore the world more in later parts. no promises as to when the next part will be released tho :P
as always, thank you so much for reading!
taglist is open!
Sam: The avengers has taught me..... what?
Sam: Oh! To disrespect Bucky as much as possible.
Bucky with long hair > bucky with short hair
FIGHT ME IF YOU DISAGREE
Karli: If you found out you only had one day left to live, what would you do with it?
Sam: Say goodbye and mend my relationships.
Bucky: Something illegal.
Sharon: Accept my fate.
Zemo: I would message ten people saying that if they don't forward the message to ten other people, I would die tomorrow.
Karli: What?
Sam: How did you get in here-
Bucky: That’s fucking awesome. Can I change my answer?
Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.
And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.
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Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig
Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!
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For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2
Word Count: 5.358
It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.
You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.
Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.
Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'
Great.
So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.
You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.
Maybe you could read for a bit.
You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.
As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.
You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.
Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.
As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.
You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.
Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.
You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.
"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."
Annoyance had now replaced your fear.
John Walker.
You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.
This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.
You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.
Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.
You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.
Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.
"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.
You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.
"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.
You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.
"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.
"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.
You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.
"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.
"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.
"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.
"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.
You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.
"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.
That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.
His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.
You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.
"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.
You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.
"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.
"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.
You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.
"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.
The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.
"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.
You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.
Well, at least now you could breathe.
Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"
You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.
"No," you answered.
The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.
He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."
You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."
Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.
Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."
Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."
Hoskins didn't have a response to that.
In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.
Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.
Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.
You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.
The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.
Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.
"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.
You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.
"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.
As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.
"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.
You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.
"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.
Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.
Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.
"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.
"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.
"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.
The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.
Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.
"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.
But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.
"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.
With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.
Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one his wrist to prevent him from moving your arm any further.
"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.
Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.
"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.
The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.
"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.
"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."
Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.
"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.
You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.
"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.
Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.
You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.
"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.
"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.
"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.
Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.
Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.
Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.
You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.
Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.
"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.
Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.
You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.
"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.
You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.
You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.
You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"
He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"
"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.
None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.
Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.
Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.
You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.
Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.
"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.
"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.
"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.
"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.
"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.
"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.
"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.
"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.
"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.
Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.
James leaned over on the counter to make sure I was 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.
You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."
You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.
As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly feel his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.
"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.
You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.
In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.
Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.
You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.
Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.
If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.
You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.
He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.
Distraction.
You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.
He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.
If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.
Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.
"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.
You shook your head, indicating you didn't.
All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.
Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."
You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.
His expression sobered rather quickly and became pensive after that staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.
"You keep it. It looks better on you."
Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.
Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.
"Wait," you murmured.
The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.
You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.
"Stay."
You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing your double meaning.
"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.
Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.
Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.
You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.
He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.
With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.
my favourite moment in sambucky fics is when sam or bucky say "uncle bucky" to aj or cass as a suggestion to his (bucky's) name or whatever and then they're like:
I’m free Mr.Stan all u gotta do is ring me up and I’m there.
⚠️not my gif⚠️
so someone on twitter said this is the only picture we have of the cap quartet and i-
Title: New Life Creator(s): samandbucky Card number: 072 (StuckyBingo) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31185761 Squares filled: E1 Alpha/Beta/Omega for @stuckybingo2020 & my first fill for @badthingshappenbingo Distress Call Rating: Teen And Up Archive warnings: burglary Major tags: Fluff, Omegaverse, Burglary, Distress Call Word count: 3,169 Summary: Omega Steve meets Alpha Bucky through a nanny gig. Steve was expecting this to be just another gig, nothing more and nothing less. He never expected to bond with the alpha's children, or become part of the alpha's life permanently.
Can’t believe I’m so into Stucky in 2021. All it took was the return of Bucky, and watching him simp for Steve for a few episodes, and I got thrown back in time.
A/N: chris smut will be up tomorrow, in the meantime, enjoy a smutty bucky blurb!
reblogs/likes/feedback are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! However, do NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!
Warnings: 18+, language, handjob, oral (m), roadhead, daddy kink, little plot, sorry for any missed typos!
Word Count: 900
The only sound the entirety of the ride home is the humming of the car engine. You smirk to yourself knowing that you have fulfilled your wish, teasing him to the point of anger.
Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel is so tight you thought he was going to rip it off. He bites down on his jaw, taking deep breathes.
Your eyes flicker back and forth from the road and the tent in Bucky’s pants. The clusters of buildings are getting further away as Bucky speeds down the street toward the suburban area. You knew the amount of trouble you are in, but it didn’t seem to faze you as slide your hand onto his lap.
“Don’t. You’re already in enough trouble. I wouldn’t make it worse.” He hisses.
He doesn’t even look at you, because he knows what you’re doing. His eyes stay on the empty road, focusing on getting home so he could have his way with you. Make you regret relentlessly teasing him around everyone else.
The subtle touches and lingering glances were only getting him worked up. The ‘innocent’ touches and texting him naughty things- and pictures from the bathroom - made him grip your wrist and fake an illness to get you to leave.
“Daddy, I only wanna help,” You sweetly smile at him, ignore the command, and palming him.
His cock is fully erect, but he’s trapped underneath the suffocating fabric of his navy dress pants. Bucky straightened up at the pressure against the throbbing member. He doesn’t stop you.
“You want to help?” Bucky says in the same stern tone.
You nod, mouthwatering in the process.
“Aw, you think that’s gonna get you out of your punishment? Sucking Daddy off while he’s driving?” Bucky glances down at you.
You lean over the center console of the car, biting your lip as you squeeze his member- earning yourself a small moan.
“I said I was sorry…” You mumble, fidgeting with the zipper of his jeans.
Bucky inhales deeply and uses one hand to steer while the other unzips his pants. Your eyes light up and you giggle in excitement.
“Only because I need to cum.” His hand slips into his briefs, sliding his cock out.
Your eyes are glued to the erect member- hands instantly wrapping around the swollen cock. Bucky has been dying to cum the moment he opened the picture of you in the bathroom with your breast hanging freely- only thing covering your nipples were the scribbles you made before sending the picture.
Bucky curses under his breath when your thumb rubs small circles around his tip. Precum forms at the top, gliding down the sides of your hand. Your free hand is cupping his balls, messaging them.
You pull away, lifting the center console up granting yourself more room. You adjust yourself in a way that your ass is pointing toward the window, but low enough that cars passing won’t be given a free show.
You return your attention back to his cock. You salivate watching him twitch in your hand paired with the sweet sounds of his curses. It becomes harder for Bucky to focus on the road once he feels your lips close around him. God, he loved your mouth.
“Ah, fuck. You better take it all.” His hips buck upward, sending his member further down your throat.
You gag at the unexpected fullness when you pull off of him gasping for air. Immediately you take him again, this time focusing on the tip. Your hands find their way back to his cock, pumping the bottom half of him.
The swirls of his tongue and the pace of your hands were enough to make him cum. Your eyes flutter closed the further you go down, moaning around him. Bucky’s free hand rests on the top of your head, gently messaging your scalp.
He spreads his fingers one last time, before gripping the roots of your hair- guiding your head.
“You look so pretty with your mouth around Daddy’s cock, such a whore.”
Bucky’s mouth hangs open as he pushes your head down, completely taking him. You hollow your cheeks and begin to bop your head. He is thrown over the edge with your fingers messaging his balls again.
His sight on the road has become blurred, but he pushes through grunting with every stroke.
“You gonna swallow all my cum like a good girl?” You moan in response, not daring to break your rhythm.
With one last buck of his hips, your lips meet the base of his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. He grunts, sending strings of cum down your throat.
“Just in time, honey.” He grunts one final time, releasing the last string of cum.
"So good, Daddy!" You whine around his cock, continuing to suck him off.
Bucky digs his hips into the seat at the overstimulation.
Bucky pulls into the driveway. You swallow the remaining cum and tuck him back into his pants. He turns off the car, before looking at you dead in the eyes.
“When we get inside, you’re going to listen to everything Daddy says to do. Do you understand?” You nod in agreement, but he needs to hear you verbalize it.
“I asked you a question. Do you understand?” He gripped the sides of your face, turning it aggressively to face him.
“Yes.” Bucky refocuses you again,
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy!”
