userzsh

lost in the memory

c. twentys. she/her. incandescently happy.

90 posts

Oh Yes This Was So Easy To Read, I Loved It. Like I Just Got Sucked Into This Fictional World, The Size

oh yes this was so easy to read, i loved it. like i just got sucked into this fictional world, the size of a one-shot, and watched everything happen with my own eyes. the tension, the feelings, the angst!!!!

505

summary: love can only last so long for two highly trained assassins

pairing: assassin!bucky x assassin!reader

word count: 6k

warnings: mentions of reading being "physically fit" due to training but no other body description, use of hard drugs/overdose, described murder, weapons, mentions of torture (this does get mildly graphic but not like... gory idk), smut (MINORS DNI), use of fake names, a lot of reader's background comes from the show scandal

a/n: i know the warnings make this sound super hardcore but it's really not terrible, but do heed them if you're sensitive to anything mentioned (and if you have any specific questions feel free to message me about it!!). i actually really enjoyed writing this even though it took me about two weeks of going back and forth. also loosely inspired by 505 by the arctic monkeys. always thankful for @pellucid-constellations who tells me whenever my writing is shit xoxo

505. Exactly where you needed to be. In less than 30 seconds, you had the lock picked and stepped silently into the room. It was a pretty typical target: son of a politician, kept entertained by money, drugs, and women. From the drug you had slipped into his drink at the bar downstairs, you suspected he should already be sedated in the room. However, you didn’t expect to see him already tied up, body slumped over in a chair. Just as quickly as you realized, you had your gun pulled from your thigh holster, pointed at the figure across the room.

With your guns trained on one another, he stepped out of the shadows. Another thing you hadn’t been prepared for: your unexpected guest was also the most beautiful man you had ever seen. You both slowly circled the room, sizing each other up.

“Who the hell are you?” Your voice was strong and commanding, and obviously seemed to have taken him aback. A small surge of pride was over you as his composure cracked, for a brief second, before hardening back to his impassive expression.

“Who the hell are you?” The nerve of this man, as if you would tell him. Well, the shoe’s on the other foot and all that. The most important question here was why. Why did he have your target tied up? Why was another organization able to get their hands on your intel? Why hadn’t you made a move yet?

At this point, you weren’t entirely interested in digging for information you likely wouldn’t get from this man, or the one on the chair. You just wanted to take out the mark and get back to your own hotel. You could see your feelings mirrored in your competitor, and decided you might as well press your luck.

“Let’s make a deal. I won’t kill you, you won’t kill me, and we can both kill this target. Whatever information you're looking for I’ll be able to keep to myself and then we can both be on our merry way. I’m not in the mood for a fight tonight, and you’re way too pretty for what I would do to you.”

This time, he couldn't mask the surprise on his face, or the quirk of his mouth as he contemplated your offer. Finally, he nodded, gesturing at your gun to call a truce. You both lowered your weapons before taking a few steps to meet in the middle of the room.

“James Grant, pleasure to meet you.” He let out a small huff of laughter at your narrowed eyes, holding his hand out for you to take. “I’d like to at least know what to call the beautiful woman I’ll be working with.”

Reaching to give him a dainty handshake you answered, “Elizabeth Hart. Though that’s not what my friends call me.” If you were never going to see this guy again, might as well have a little fun right?

“Oh, is that right? And when do I get the pleasure of being considered your friend?” Wanting to match his demeanor, you informed him that after this was finished you might give him a little more. At this point, you were practically nose to nose, his breath hot on your cheek. Just as he made the tilt of his head towards your mouth, you stepped back.

“Oh James, I know you're smarter than that. Let’s get a move on here. What was your plan? He’s too young for potassium chloride, they’d never believe a heart attack - I personally have some coke laced with fentanyl. Figured with a 21 year old playboy who frequents parties just like tonight’s, it’d be automatically ruled an overdose. Thoughts?”

(Bucky's thoughts were that he might already be in love, not that he would ever tell another soul that bit of information, least of all her.)

“I figured pills, but I like your idea better.” He immediately wanted to wipe the smug look off your face. “Don’t get too flattered, sweetheart, I really-” He was cut off by the groan of… what was his name again? John or Josh or something of the like. Though you had just been talking about the details of his death, you nearly forgot he was even there.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. It’s time we all have a little chat.” You had mastered the sickly sweet and condescending tone, it just made it all the more fun. He started begging to be released, bribing you with money, the typical responses you usually got. Instead of listening to his pleas, you and James started a fun little game. One of you would ask a question, he would refuse to answer, the other would force a line up his nose, then discuss your favorite techniques, weapons, etc. until he finally gave in. Once he started babbling and dribbling vomit, you set your stage. While James unreleased him from the satin restraints (perfect if you didn’t want to leave any obvious marks), you set up some lines of coke, adding the finishing touch of a streak right under his nose. Looking up from your handiwork, James had an expression akin to awe on his face.

“As much as I adore that look you’re giving me, I think it might be time to get out of here.” You fully expected to get out of this hotel and part ways, and never see each other again; but apparently James had other plans. The second the elevator doors closed, he had you pushed against the wall, lips on yours like his life depended on it. He wasted no time kissing down your neck and the deep slope of your dress, until the elevator dinged, signaling that you had arrived at the lobby. The both of you exited with perfectly blank expressions, as if you were total strangers, but once you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you turned your head just enough for him to hear you.

“My hotel is two blocks away. Be smart about it.”

You’d had a lot of sex, and you had no shame about it, but James was irrefutably the best you’d ever had. His head was buried between your thighs as he pulled your third - fourth? - orgasm out of you. He hadn’t even fucked you yet, and you already knew he was the best. By the time he let his lips trail back up your body, you were begging for more.

“Be patient, Liz, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” With that he pinned your hands above your head, and took the moment of surprise to bury himself in you. The feel of him stretching your walls was an incredible euphoria you didn’t think you could ever describe with words. His precise movements had him grazing your sweet spot with every thrust, and you were a whining mess beneath him. “Go ahead, baby, make a mess all over me.” Determined to edge you on, he put all his effort into sucking new marks across your neck and collarbones, until the coil winding in your stomach finally snapped.

As your high crashed over you, he took the opportunity to change positions, pulling you into his lap for you to ride him. This new angle pushed him even deeper into you, and you didn’t think it could get any better until he lifted his hips to push into you even more, causing him to bury his cock so far into you, you thought he might very well have bruised your cervix.

The throbbing pulse of you wrapped around him as you came down from your orgasm had him crying out and sputtering a string of expletives as you felt him get closer to his edge.

“You gonna let me fill this pussy up, pretty girl? You look so good on top of me like this. Wanna stuff you so full I’m leakin’ out of ya for days, that way you never forget who fucked you this fuckin’ good.” The nodding of your head was so urgent and pleading he had to close his eyes as his hips finally stuttered, keeping his promise of stuffing you full. As they finally fluttered open, he was graced with the sight of you with your hands splayed across his chest, barely able to hold yourself up. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in for another searing kiss before gently lifting you off his lap and beside him in the bed.

For as physically fit as your training had made you, it took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to catch your breath. Once your chest finally began to fall into an even pattern, you glanced over to James, who was already staring at you. The skip in your heartbeat had you slipping out of the bed and heading for the bathroom to gather yourself. By the time you came out, you fully expected him to be dressed and ready to go, but instead he was resting with his back against the headboard, hands tucked behind his head, clad only in his boxers.

“I promise I won’t kill you if you let me stay the night.” His lazy smile somehow made you give him all the trust in the world. It shouldn’t, considering you were both highly trained assassins, but you figured if you were gonna die you might as well do it sexually satisfied.

“Fine, but I’m not spooning you.” You giggled, actually giggled, as he tugged you flush against his body. And either by exhaustion or comfort, you slept better than you had in years.

The sound of the door shutting early the next morning had you sitting straight up, the gun you had hidden beside the bed already cocked and aimed. It took you about 10 seconds of disorientation before you realized it was James sneaking out. Holding onto the fond memories of last night, it took you a moment to notice the scrawl across the hotel notepad beside the bed.

hope i see you again soon.

ps, i wanted to give you a little hint: buchanan

Below there was also a crude drawing you couldn’t quite make sense of. Resigned to just figure it out on your plane ride home, you slipped it into the side pocket of your bag before gathering the rest of your things.

One last look around your hotel room cemented the rush of memories from your heated night with James. Wherever he was, you hoped he would think about you just as much as you would him.

Back in D.C., you were still staring at the note James had left you, until your boss knocked on your office door. Olivia waited all of 5 seconds before turning the handle, barely giving you enough time to stuff the note underneath a stack of case files.

“Good morning, Y/N. You’re glowing; did you get lucky on this mission?” She already knew - Olivia knew everything before it even happened. But your power nearly rivaled hers, so what she didn’t know was who it had been. Although you supposed you really didn’t know either. “Don’t answer, of course you did. You brought Quinn coffee this morning and you don’t do that unless you’re in a really good mood. And seeing as you only got back yesterday, you haven’t really had time to do anything other than get laid.” Damn her, genius woman. “Oh, and you didn’t do a very good job of covering those hickies.” Choking on your own spit, you looked up to see the ridiculously smug look on her face. You were lucky she was your best friend or you would be fucked. People rarely came out unscathed when they got on the wrong side of Olivia Pope.

“Yes, fine, I had the best sex of my life. That’s all you need to know for now. So, you’re here on a Monday morning instead of The White House, what’s going on?” Olivia, along with you and two other amazing women, ran OPA by day and B613 by night. So on your average day, when there was no one needing to be questioned or killed, the three of you worked as a team to mitigate the crises of Washington D.C.’s politicians and elite. By night, you managed a covert government agency known as B613. Well, you managed the field agents while Olivia took care of the rest.

“I just got a call from Nicholas Fury. He has a problem that he believes we can help with.” Nicholas Fury, like, the Nick Fury, director of SHIELD? What the hell was going on? “He’s sending two partners,” she meant government assassins, “to us right now. Their plane from New York lands in two hours, do you think you could pick them up?”

This was an odd situation. While SHIELD held a reputation, albeit disguised under a legitimate government corporation, you all preferred to keep under the radar. And by under the radar, you meant only the only people outside of OPA that knew B613 existed was the president and the head of the CIA. So why were you suddenly teaming up with SHIELD? It didn’t make sense, so you asked her as much.

“Let me rephrase; he needs help from OPA. There’s been an issue with one of their own that they need handled discreetly.” She paused to take in the look on your face. “No more questions, you’ll know the rest when they get here.”

Senator Alexander Pierce. Of course. Best friend of Nick Fury and certified scumbag, had been made aware of the more… intense work that SHIELD did. Fury wanted you all to uncover something career-ending on Pierce before he could take his news public. Simple enough. Your personal approach here was to torture him for information, scare him enough that you most likely would never have to use it, and be on your way. Of course, you couldn’t let these two agents - you had learned their names were Steve and Natasha - know your plan. Instead, you exchanged a look with Olivia, who ushered them into her office.

You turned towards your friends with a pleasant, almost eerie smile. “Okay, ladies, let’s do this. Abby, start digging. Quinn, come with me.” Abby headed to her office to dive headfirst into her slew of confidential files, while you started explaining your plan to Quinn, who was more than happy to be of help.

By the time Natasha and Steve were stepping out of the office, you already had the entire plan put together.

Abby had found some interesting paper trails regarding Pierce’s involvement with exclusive escorts. While this was a good start, it was nowhere near the catastrophic level needed in this case. But it was posed in such a way that the SHIELD agents wanted to be involved in this part of the investigation directly. So while Abby held them with tracking down his tricks and forming a timeline, Quinn would keep surveillance outside Pierce’s house while you made your way inside to interrogate. Olivia would return to her usual Capitol duties, more so to keep her name out of the news than anything, unless she was needed in a detrimental situation. Once you had the information you needed, Abby would create some fake documents to back up your findings, and Fury would be satisfied. The plan was so simple, so easily executable that not even Quinn in her first week at the firm could have screwed it up.

But of course, your life was never easy.

About a week later, you sat happily humming to the song that had caught your ear on the radio, debating your next move with Pierce. It was a very methodical routine you had: cause a little pain, remove the duct tape from his mouth, press record. If he gave you information, you gave him a break. If he refused, you would start all over. You had been going at it for a little over an hour now, the sun long set, when you heard the creak of a floorboard by the back door. Feeling an overwhelming sense of deja vu, you were on your feet, gun trained on the dark figure. The sight of James made your knees nearly buckle. What the hell is he doing here?

“You,” the viciousness in your voice clearly unnerved him, because he lowered his gun in surrender. But you were on the defense now, deep suspicion creeping into the back of your mind. You didn’t believe in coincidences, especially not in this line of work. He had to have been following you, maybe even before you met in that hotel room. Considering the fact that you were halfway around the world that last time only added to your substantial misgivings. With each step toward him - gun still aimed - he took one back, until he was against the wall. You trailed a hand down his jaw, then lower to grip his throat, just to watch him shiver. “Hey, pretty boy. Wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Another chill ran through him at the deep, sultry tone of your voice.

“Yes, yes, let me explain. Not here, you know that, but I’ll explain.” His extreme willingness also made you weary, but maybe he was just stupid. Regardless, you still had a job to do.

“Are you going to kill me?” He shook his head. “Okay, well now that that’s settled, either help me or sit there and shut up. Or if you would like to give me a little hint about our talk later, I promise he’s in no position to repeat anything right now.”

“I’m here for him,” he gestured toward Pierce’s paling body. “That’s all I can say for now.”

It shouldn’t have shocked you, really it shouldn’t have. But it did and now all you wanted was to know more. But you still have a job to do. Your conscience was very dedicated to her work, obviously. So James sat beside you on the floor while you finished, watching you more than anything else.

You spent another two or so hours slowly dragging the information out, with James occasionally lending a hand. When you were done, you cleaned his visible wounds and packed up your bag of goodies, leaning down to whisper one last threat as you turned toward the back door, gesturing for James to follow you.

On the way out the back door, you made sure to wipe any evidence of your being there and re-enabled his security system, as well as shooting Quinn a message of “all clear”, and waited to hear the surveillance van pull off. Turning to James, you nodded toward the road, and he quickly fell in step behind you. The four block journey to your car was absolutely silent, bordering on tense, yet not quite. For some reason, your suspicion had subsided, and that caused you to make an incredibly stupid, possibly catastrophic, decision as you approached the vehicle. James stood fidgeting on the sidewalk, waiting for your next move. You sighed, knowing you were about to seal your fate.

“Get in, we’re going to my place.”

As soon as the two of you stepped into your loft, you had your gun pressed into James’ back.

“Sit down and start talking.” You gave him a push towards the couch and took a seat across from him in your chair. You didn’t want to let on that you had a sense of trust in him, or that you already had feelings that were more than a heated one night stand. He looked you in the eyes, and you tried to keep them emotionless, before taking a deep breath.

“I work for SHIELD-” He can’t get any further because you let out a gasp and drop your gun onto your living room rug. Your eyes flashback to that stupid drawing on his note - a shield. You want to say so many things, but you need more answers, so you just nod and let him continue. “Nat and Steve, they’re my best friends, we all work at SHIELD. They were supposed to come down here to get dirt on Pierce while I - well, while I took care of him. But then I saw you, and it felt like my heart got ripped out of my chest. There was always a rumor in our unit that OPA was somehow involved, but I didn’t expect for it to actually be B613. And you, no wonder you’re so goddamn good at what you do. Do you know they call you the Night Witch? Most people think you’re just a ghost story - like the Winter Soldier. But here you are, and I know you could and probably will kill me, but I’m begging you not to. We can work together. I want to, I want everything for you.”

You stared at him, for far too long, trying to decide what to do. You had never been in any situation like this before, and that said a lot considering your jobs. While all logic seemed to fail you,your instinct never lied. So even though your brain was screaming at you to stop, you lurched forward and crashed your lips to James’, desperate for another night like you had just a week ago - had it really only been a week? As you moved to straddle him, he grabbed your hands and held them to your chest, whispering something so low you could barely hear. “Bucky.”

You cock your head to the side, staring at him with wide eyes.

“James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. That’s my real name.”

You pressed your lips to his again, foreheads resting together, and told him your full name. The thought of revealing your true identity, your true double life, with someone you barely knew had you both terrified and giddy. Pushing away your fear of tomorrow, you pull him from the couch and into your bedroom, not wasting a minute before you’re both wrapped in bliss.

You don’t think Olivia had ever been more mad at you. Once you arrived the next morning, she dragged you into her office before you could get a word in. The look in her eyes said nothing but speak, so what else could you do? When you finished, she proceeded to let you know what an idiot you were, how she wouldn’t hesitate to have you taken out if you threatened the security of B613, and also that she loved you despite all that.

“When you came back from that mission, that was the happiest I had seen you since-” You cut her off with an ice cold glare. “It’s the happiest I had seen you in a long time. Even now, I can tell something’s different. So just- just be smart, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt in any way.”

As far as Olivia Pope goes, this was as close to a blessing as you would ever get. You weren’t going to take it for granted.

By the end of the week, Natasha and Steve seemed to be satisfied with the amount of information you had collectively gathered. Along with making no public appearances - you may be a little proud of your handiwork - they assumed all way clear for the time being. On your way to drop them off at the airport, you wanted to ask about Bucky, learn more about him, more than just what was shared over takeout and long nights in your bed. Obviously, you knew you couldn’t, but you wanted something real with Bucky. Even with Peter, you had never felt this before.

Peter Quill, the man you thought was with you till the end. Also the same man who tried to kill you and everyone you loved. You had let him into your life and he betrayed you at the first opportunity. You were forced to kill the man you thought you would marry to protect OPA. You couldn’t handle that heartbreak again.

All you could do was hope that Bucky was different.

This was your favorite part. Sauntering up to the bar, you leaned over to get the attention of the bartender. Once you had ordered your drink, you glanced to your right to see Clint Barton looking directly down the front of your dress - go figure. You gave a flirty wink, planting the bait. He attempted to chat you up while you waited for your drink, and a hand slipped to your lower back. He was so close to your mouth you could smell the whiskey and cigars on his breath. Right as he tried to close the distance between you two, Bucky was at your side, giving him a slight push backwards.

“Woah, dude, what’s your problem?” Clint’s words slurred, and it only makes this plan even sweeter.

“I’m her husband, and who the hell are you?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you.

“I’m Clint Barton, baby, and your wife here is one hot piece of ass. It’d be a shame if you didn’t share.” You can tell in his mind that he thought that was a smooth line, but if it had been anyone else on the receiving end, he would have been laid out right in the middle of the bar floor. Unfortunately for him, you and Bucky weren’t just ‘anyone else’ and he was in for a hell of a night.

“You know what, I think you’re right.” Bucky nodded to you, knowing your confirmation will officially seal the deal.

“Yeah, honey, James here doesn’t mind sharing. Meet us up in our room in 10 minutes. Room 218, don’t be late.” With that, you reached over to grab your glass from the bartender, and Clint was too busy staring at your chest again to notice you slip something into his drink. As you turn, Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist to lead you out of the bar, and you gave Clint one final wink before disappearing.

That was how you and Bucky spent the next few months, helping each other on missions that were meant to be solo, and making them even more fun. In such a short time you had fallen so deeply in love with each other. The weeks you spent away from each other broke your heart, him in New York and you in D.C. But every chance you could get away, mission or otherwise, you were attached at the hip. No one knew but Olivia - and Steve, Bucky needed a cover - and she had become surprisingly supportive. After the third weekend in a row you disappeared, she demanded to meet him. The two of them together in your apartment started with incredible tension, but by the time Olivia left you could feel the mutual respect.

You started to let yourself dream a little; dream about a normal life, stepping down from B613, just staying at OPA for Olivia’s sake, and maybe even moving out of the city and settling down eventually. And you wanted that all with Bucky. Each time you saw one another, it felt like it was another step closer to being possible.

Until around the eight month mark, you stopped hearing from him. He stopped answering your calls and eventually his number became disconnected. When two weeks passed and Olivia hadn’t heard from you, she showed up to your apartment to find you curled on the couch. You hadn’t moved in eight days, except to use the bathroom and grab crackers from the kitchen. You stared at the TV crying, and when you could cry anymore, you just stared. Olivia wanted to be mad, and she was, but more than that she was heartbroken to see her best friend in such an awful state. You hadn’t even been this bad after Peter. Bucky had taken your heart with him wherever he disappeared to. Olivia left and was back within an hour with groceries. After she put food in the oven, she cleaned your bed sheets and put them in the washer, then coaxed you to the shower to clean up. After you had eaten a few bites of dinner, she put you in bed and held you until your tears lulled you to sleep.

She did this for another few weeks, gradually getting you back out into the world, whether it be to grab coffee, walk in the park, and eventually spending time in the office not even working, just to be there. At the two month mark, you begged her for a mission - anything to take your mind off Bucky.

You threw yourself back into your work, acting like you had never even met him. You knew this would come back to bite you in the ass, but the only thing on your mind was not having him on your mind.

Every mission you were a little more reckless, doing whatever necessary to finish the job, even if it wasn’t the safest. What was the point, right?

The point, it seemed, was to face your demons. You just didn’t know that yet.

You were in Berlin when it all fell apart.

Olivia didn’t want you to go solo, wanted Quinn at your side just in case, but you insisted. Against her better judgement, she allowed it; she was doing a lot just to keep you sane these days.

That’s how you ended up in the back room of this seedy club, perched on the lap of the most notorious gang leader, Jonas Remmo, in Northern Berlin. You weren’t even there to take him out, just get a little information to kickstart Olivia’s investigation. So you were whoring yourself out for the night; it wasn’t the first time and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. As you listened to Jonas talk about business you had no interest in, you noticed a guard of his by the closest door was particularly fidgety. Getting suspicious, you leaned down to whisper in Jonas’ ear that you would be right back, and he waved you off. Before you were fully in the bathroom, someone had shoved you in and slammed the door closed, pushing your back flat against it. Your gun clattered across the tiles, and wide eyes looked up into familiar blue ones.

You felt the blood drain from your body, and all of a sudden you were back on your couch, wallowing in your heartbreak.

“What the ever loving fuck are you doing?” You hissed, body going rigid with anger. This couldn’t be real life, it just couldn’t. This is the kind of shit that only happens to main characters in a TV show. “I could kill you right now, I hope you know that. I have more knives strapped to my body than you could ever guess, and no reason not to do it. Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

“Baby, let me explain, please. It just-”

“Don’t fucking call me baby.”

He took a step back, then two more. He was walking on thin ice and he knew it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I could give you any more words to express how sorry I am. Fury sent me off the grid, to Siberia. I didn’t have time to tell you, or anyone for that matter. I think he was catching on to us; he thinks I can’t do my job if I’m ‘distracted’. And normally I would say he was wrong, but I haven’t thought of anything but for months; I would do anything for you. I would leave this all behind for you without hesitation. I just want a second chance, even a chance at a second chance. Please.”

“You want me to forgive you? And expect you’ll want to give all this up? We’re in this till we die, Buck. You know that as well as I do; there’s no getting out. I don’t want to hear pretty promises you can’t deliver on.”

“Baby. Sorry, just please. Give me the chance to prove myself. I’m all in for you. I-” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I love you.”

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and you thought he might be about to drop to his knees to beg. He brought your walls down, and you didn’t make good decisions. You needed to think this through on your own.

The breath you took in was more of a rasp, and Bucky’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry, you need to leave. I just- I can’t give you an answer right now, and I have a job to do. If you still feel like this when I’m done, you’ll know where to find me. But this isn’t the time or place.”

All he could do was hang his head, knowing you wouldn’t change your mind - but he didn’t know how desperately you wanted to pull him into you. Instead, you both walked out the door, and you headed back to your mark. As you opened the curtain, you gave one last glance back at Bucky, who stood still in the crowd of people, looking at nothing but you.

The rest of the night could be described as one of the worst missions in your entire career. You were spaced out, and didn’t get any of the information you needed from this asshole. And once you stopped even responding to his advances, he pushed you off and told you to get out of his club. As much as you wanted to gut him for calling you useless, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Calling Olivia to update her on your failure, you step out into the night and find Bucky still outside, leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. The second he spotted you, he stomped it out and rushed over.

“I know you told me to get lost but I won’t be able to even sleep until I-” You didn’t let him finish before you were grabbing his face and smashing your lips to his. Any feeling was better than this empty, aching hole in your heart. After a second of shock, he grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body closer to his. It felt like everything was right in the world again, but your moment of bliss was cut off by Liv calling you back. You pushed yourself off Bucky before grabbing your phone, turning away from him. He grabbed your hand, but you simply pulled away from him, tears already streaming down your face.

Bucky watched you disappear into the crowds of downtown Berlin, his heart shattering along the sidewalk cracks, when he noticed you had slipped something into his sleeve. He looked down at the crumbled piece of paper, and he thought he might be able to sweep those shards of his heart from the ground.

Hotel MANI. Ask for Mrs. Barnes.

20 minutes later, Bucky was staring at the hotel door. Room 505, it felt like a sign. Hands shaking just a bit, he inserted the key and pushed open the door. Everything was dark, except for a soft glow from the bedroom. He carefully made his way across the room, and when he finally saw you, laid out in the bed, his heart all but stopped.

You were waiting for him, smile as bright as he had ever seen it, and he felt whole again.

“James Buchanan Barnes. I would do anything for you, too. Maybe I’m an idiot, maybe I should be stronger, but I don’t want to. Not when it comes to you. You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I can’t pass up the opportunity when I feel like this. Now stop looking at me with your mouth hanging open and get over here.”

Bucky was on the bed, kneeling in front of you, in less than a second; he took your face in his hands so gently it made you tear up. The kiss you shared was so full of love and intensity it was blinding, and everything felt right as you pulled him into you.

tagging fwens *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@lovinggbarnes @artisancowbells @comfortbucky @starrysebastians @starbuckie @calisamcro @buckys-darling @angrythingstarlight @asgardwinter @gray-reads @igotnoname4thisblog @signofthebarnes @cupidsbarnes @belouva @holylulusworld @buckydaddy

Oh Yes This Was So Easy To Read, I Loved It. Like I Just Got Sucked Into This Fictional World, The Size

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