Synopsis: His task is a simple one: take the woman and hold her without harm until he gets the call. When the ransom’s paid, he takes her back. Plain and simple. Doesn’t even have to kill anyone. Except as Bucky waits for the phone call, there’s something different about the woman he’s watching. She doesn’t fight like the rest. Doesn’t curse at him. She just…talks with him. And since he’s being talked at, he might as well talk back. Been a while since he’s just had a conversation. Might as well…right?
Warnings: dead dove: don’t eat - mentions of angst, some soft moments, and explicit nsfw content; bucky’s pov, dialogue heavy, lots of blood, kidnapping, bucky has chronic pain, bondage/restraints, power imbalance, gagging, crying + dacryphilia, mentions of bucky’s trauma - being forcefully turned & kept hungry (re: bucky’s past), vampire bites = aphrodisiac, threats, reader isn’t naive to her situation & bucky’s not an asshole, reader has controlling parents (also her dad is referred to as daddy sometimes), a slight scuffle, some slight dirty thoughts, bites/biting/marking + some claiming, making out, making out + like blood and other bodily fluids are smeared in the process, fingering, clit stim, nipple stim, overstimulation, fucking on the floor, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, multiple sexual positions, creampies, multiple orgasms; bucky has some tender moments + the vampire’s got some morals, reader is opportunistic and knows what she wants
Word Count: 14.8k
A/N: Alright, this might be a weird one based on the tags, but hear me out. Happy kinktoberrrrrr
All Bucky had to do was watch you. Keep you unharmed. Alive. Waiting for the ransom to come in, locked in a safe house–more like a cellar–with you, just waiting for the phone call. He sat on a crate of old linens, watching you wake up, his head full of something that sounded way too similar to rushing blood.
You were the answer to someone else’s sins. The consequence you didn’t deserve, but blood served for blood. His employer wasn’t a bad guy. Wanted you unharmed. This was a warning served and rectified with a sum of cash. A threat of what was really going to happen next time someone fucked around.
Bucky got you outside of a feeding den of all places. Your friends had gone in without you while you finished paying the entrance fee. Assholes left you out there with the guard without a care. Granted, they hadn’t expected some big bad to be trailing them for the last two miles. Working in the shadows was his specialty. They only would’ve known if he’d made it so.
But still.
The second the guard turned to open the door, Bucky stopped out, covered your mouth with the chloroform-soaked rag, and had you over his horse in seconds.
You were just now stirring awake, probably sore from the ride. Would’ve slowed him down to use a cart. Had to ride propped up against him. Better cushion than if he’d thrown you over the back on your stomach. Could’ve broken a rib.
You stirred a little. He watched you from under the brim of his black hat. Probably should've taken the black handkerchief off from his face, too. But it was a weighed decision–show off his fangs or be the hidden asshole. Neither won him points. He wasn't there to get any at all but would rather prevent you from pissing yourself in fear if he could help it. He didn't have a change of clothes.
He could’ve tied the ropes tighter, but he knew mercy. Might’ve not been human for over a century, but he wasn’t a prick. He killed the people he was paid to kill. Did the jobs he was paid to do. But he wasn’t a fucking asshole. You were a means, and that wasn’t your fault.
You stirred again, eyes fluttering a little. Struggling. He just had your wrists bound up separately above your head. Propped you up against the wall as best as he could. Probably could’ve left you without it, but better safe than sorry. He leaned on his right elbow, reaching over and tightening the leather straps holding the brace on his left. It hurt, but not as much as it used to.
Still, he clenched his jaw.
He was looking at the dark metal when your eyes opened.
“Don’t struggle,” he said, tightening the next strap. A muffled groan pushed against the gag he’d tied around your mouth. “You’re unharmed. You’ll stay unharmed. But you’ll have to stay here ‘til your dad answers the call.”
Your breathing got quicker. Bucky stole a look beneath his hat, finding consciousness taking hold second by second. Your chest heaved in that expensive dress. Showed off parts of you that were deliberately nice for a den. Collarbone and jugular. Short sleeves with gloves that could hide bite marks on your wrists. Long skirts to keep the cold out but easily shove back and more for a skirt-ripping, passionate taking while in the midst of it.
Only thing better than having food stripped naked was doing it yourself.
Bucky’s hands twitched. He hadn’t fed from a human in two decades. It was all animals. Since he’d gotten out of debt–it was all animals and all solo Bucky. Easier that way.
You pulled on the ropes, making the fabric in your gloves wrinkle and shift. Fear shone in tear-filled eyes. Shaking your head, you pushed closer to the wall. Tried to do something, but you were stuck.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Bucky tried. Firmer, but that probably wasn’t going to get you to calm down. “I’m just here to watch you.”
Your eyes dropped to his belt. The whip, knife, and revolver weren’t helping his case. But you didn’t try talking through the gag. Just stayed back against the wall like you’d chosen that spot yourself. Red still attacked the white of your eyes. Brought tears that slipped down over your cheeks and made that dark makeup on your lashes run.
Maybe if he still had some humanity left, he might’ve gone over there and wiped it off. Old memories said he would’ve. Old memories had his thumbs twitching. Used to wipe it and smear it mid-fuck back before. Did after the change, too, but for more fucked reasons. There was usually some blood smeared with it back then.
Less soothing.
They’d just kept him so fucking hungry all the time. He hadn’t been able to help it. He was just so fucking hungry–
“Here’s how this is going to work,” he said, finding your gaze with a tilt of his head. You were trembling, poor thing. But you were taking the fear like a champ. “You and I will sit here. That phone on the wall there? When that rings, I bring you back to that shithole I found you outside of. So, until then, we’re here.”
He tightened the last strap on his arm and sat back. All the lean gave you was a full view of his eyes. They'd stayed blue after the change, just got…fancier, as some people said. He didn't think they looked all that human. Closer to something out from the Arctic. They glowed like some luminescent fish. Neon in the dark. Gave him away when he was trying to stay in the shadows.
The locked gazes didn’t help your trembling.
And they didn’t help with that strange rushing in his head. Ears? Fuck. He squeezed his left hand into as much of a fist as he could manage until it hurt. Needed the hurt. He was fucking hearing you. With only you there, no other sound to drown, all he could hear was the blood pumping through you. Quick. Your heart was racing so fucking fast. The hard beats were like a beck and call.
He nudged the box with the spurs on his boots.
“Now, we can do this the fucked way or a merciful way. You behave, and I have food, water, and a windowless washroom through that door there for you.” Bucky pointed. Your eyes followed. Another tear fell. “Or I can leave you just like that for however many hours we gotta sit and wait.”
He lolled his head. Waited until your eyes were back on him. Your breathing wasn't coming any better. Heart wasn't getting any calmer. The sound assaulted him more than it had any other in the last two decades. He'd done this before. Handled this very same shit before. Old, young. Pretty, handsome, half-dressed, fully dressed. He'd done this. He fucking knew this like the back of his right hand.
So why the fuck were you getting to him?
“Nod yes if you’ll behave, Miss (Y/L/N).”
You swallowed hard. You'd do as all others that weren't immediately combative would. You'd nod your head, play nice, and maybe try something stupid. It was the same every time.
And just like that, you nodded your head nervously.
“Great.” Bucky waved a hand and slowly slid off the edge of the crate. “Closest town is five miles east. That other door behind me is locked with a key I have tucked in my jacket. I have instructions to keep you unharmed, but I will do what’s required to make sure I fulfill the more important order of keeping you.”
He stood in front of you. Bravely, you kept your eyes glued to his. There was so much light in yours. They were so pretty.
"You can scream if you want, but nobody's going to hear you. Now, hold still."
He moved much like he used to with his old cat. Careful not to spook, he hooked two fingers around the damp cloth over your cheek and pulled. Your lips were a little plump from it, and he waited. As he dropped the material past your chin, he braced for whatever scream you’d let out at full volume like everyone always did.
But when he leaned back, he was greeted with you licking your mouth and soothing the ache of the gag away. Shaking. Nostrils flaring and relaxing while you sniffled. His boot touched the side of yours where your knees were tucked up, and he could still feel you shaking.
Another dark line slid down your cheek, and those pretty lips parted.
“What’d my dad do?”
Bucky quirked a brow. Huh. Your heart still raced. Breathing still made that perfectly tailored dress press against your chest. His eyes didn’t stray lower than the shifting emotions in your eyes or the quiver in your mouth.
Betrayal. Fear. Anger. Bravery.
"Screwed my employer out of a contract. Some back alley deals turned into other back alley deals. Money and products were lost. That's all I know."
Your next breath was shaky. Bucky didn’t flinch, but he did step back. Standing that close…you smelled nice. Good. Tasty. He had control. But the more distance, the better. The easier. He stood just in front of you when your eyes stayed on him. You weren’t done, he knew. Could’ve gone back to the crate, but something told him you preferred him where you could see him in the single light of the room.
Your eyes drew over him slowly.
More tears started to come.
“He’s not going to pay.”
Bucky frowned. “Have that little faith in your dad?”
Your lip quivered again, and you…smiled.
"I broke his rule. Don't leave without a guard. Did just that. First time, too. And look at that. He was proved right." You laughed. It was a grating sound; broken and bitter. "He won't pay 'cause I didn't listen."
Bucky just grunted. Didn't have anything reassuring to say. He'd never had a random call like this go without payment fulfilled before. All other times, he'd be instructed to kill them if ransom was denied, so what the fuck awaited you?
He didn’t have the answer. Wouldn’t until he got the call.
He stalked back over to the crate and hopped up. There was nothing else for him to do but his job. You chewed on your bottom lip, watching him.
“Well, we won’t know until that phone rings. So, if you have to use the bathroom or you get hungry or thirsty, just say so.” He reached back and grabbed a book stationed behind him. He stayed propped on one elbow and started reading.
He had to drown out the sound of you being frustratingly alive in front of him. The book was better than nothing.
Surprisingly, you didn’t talk for quite a while. Cried a little more, which helped drown out your racing heart. But Bucky kept going back to the same thing. Well, beyond that. You were aware enough of what your daddy did that you took his words as truth. Didn’t scream. Wasn’t trying to run away–yet, surely. And you weren’t negotiating with him. Might’ve been your first night sneaking out on your own, but that just attested to the fact that you were desperate, not stupid.
He lowered the book.
“Why a feeding den?” he asked.
A stupid question from the stupidest being in that room. There was no good answer for him.
“What?” you asked, still sniffling.
“Why the fuck were you out at a vampire feeding den on your first night of attempted freedom?”
You looked at him for a long moment. The kind that gave you enough time to lick the faint bite marks on your bottom lip. Bucky tried not to watch.
“Why do you cover your face?”
He scoffed. Question for a question. Answer for an answer. He ought to go back to reading, but there was a glint in your eyes. And he had nothing to hide.
“Didn’t wanna scare you,” he said.
You pushed back against the wall again, the fear visible. He could smell in on you. It was an old, familiar smell. Smelled good when he was that starving. Smelled good now, but control. He had control.
“Do you have something scary under there, mister?”
He tipped his head up just enough to really see you. To let you see the glow in his eyes.
“Most tend to think so.”
Your hands opened and closed, but they only had the rope to hold onto. Still, you squeezed it. Your jaw clenched as you did so, and you found looks around the room. No breath came easier, but you were sniffling less.
“Tale as old as time,” you murmured. “My parents pissed me off. I got angry. Figured the most scandalous place to go was a feeding den. Multiple birds with one stone, right? From what I hear.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. That hone-in on your heartbeat was accidental. But it raised. It started beating harder. Faster. You were scared again–like you were at the start. Genuine fear when you looked at him.
He closed his book, the page marked with his thumb.
“Feeding, drinking, and fucking,” he said monotone.
Your heart skipped, then beat a tad faster. Not topics one would typically discuss when bound in a room with an armed kidnapper. A mistake you'd clearly realized halfway through your answer. A mistake Bucky should've caught before he even asked the question. Would've made it your first time at one, first time sneaking out; of fucking course, that's what it was.
He opened his book and looked at the unread page.
"For future reference, don't waste money on the drinks if you're going to let a vampire bite you." He glanced up. Your brows furrowed. "And don't let a vampire bite you if you're not ready to do some depraved things. They're nothing to fuck around with."
He looked back down at the page.
Your heart stuttered again. Your breathing shifted.
Bucky reined in his control like the snap of a whip.
“But that is the perfect place to go to piss daddy off. Sorry it had to be tonight.”
Another hard swallow almost brought his attention back to you. He tried reading the same sentence ten times over, but it was hard to focus. You were making it hard. Fuck. Bucky was so much better than this.
“What’s so scary under your mask?”
“Nothing to concern you.” Bucky didn’t look up. “I’m not here to make conversation, Miss (Y/L/N). Just waiting for the phone.”
“Yet you asked me first.” A pause. Your heart started beating slower. “And you keep answering me.”
Well. He was. So he did just the opposite. He ignored you and tried reading. Made it a few more paragraphs down. Pretty successful, if he had to say so. But then you shifted, and it was like someone whispered next to his ear. Every little movement was a warmth along his cold skin. The slight hitches in your breath when you readjusted how you sat. The pull of the ropes when you tried to pull up just a little. The fluttering of your skirts when you kicked your feet out to stretch your legs.
Your heartbeat. Your breathing. The rush of your blood.
“Is there a name I can call you?” you asked.
He’d made it two more pages when your voice cut through.
“Do you think any name I give you will be my real name?”
In his peripherals, he saw you shake your head.
“No, but if my gut instinct about you is wrong and you do try to hurt me, I’d like a name to try and reason with.”
"I'm not going to hurt you, Miss (Y/L/N)," Bucky stated as calmly as he could. Your heart was beating too quick, though. Still scared. He shook his head. "Bucky." You didn't need to know he actually went by that. "Use Bucky."
“You came up with that pretty quick…Bucky.”
Motherfucker. Hearing you say it was like someone whacked him over the stomach. Mistake. A big fucking mistake. He glanced up quickly like you saying his name had been a secret when he’d just told you the damn thing. But it was that whisper again. A whisper he wanted next to his ear, against his hand, on his skin. His mouth.
“You’re not the first person who’s asked for a name to call me,” he murmured.
Sounded wrong. He’d meant it when the person lay dying. When they fought. Argued. Screamed.
When your eyes locked, he heard how you heard it.
You quirked a furrowed brow and narrowed your eyes. He didn’t correct his meaning.
“Will you be honest with me, Bucky?”
You didn’t break eye contact. Neither did he.
“About?”
Your lips quivered again. Damn things. He should’ve put the gag back on.
“If that phone rings and they tell you to do something to me, will you do it?”
He lowered the book again and gave you a look you couldn’t fully see. Couldn’t see the fine set of his frown. Couldn’t see the clenching of his jaw. Couldn’t see his hard swallow.
“Depends on what that something is.” He didn’t so much as blink. “They tell me to take you home, I take you home. They tell me to cut off a finger, I negotiate a higher pay, then I cut off a finger. They tell me to kill you, I negotiate again, then….”
“You kill me,” you muttered.
“I got a pretty hefty fee for that,” he answered honestly. It wasn’t to try and soothe the fear.
“But if they pay it, you’ll kill me.”
Wasn’t a question. Bucky still nodded once. Sharp and curt. A new tear went and painted the dark streaks like watercolor.
“Okay.” You matched his nod. “I appreciate your honesty.” You sniffled. “Would you at least take fingers from my non-dominant hand at least? I rather enjoy painting.”
You couldn’t see his smile. He shouldn’t have smiled. Not about that. Smiling meant he felt something. Smiling meant you made him feel something.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
Bucky went back to reading.
The night crawled on. A slight unease–as it always came when jobs started taking long–crawled up his spine. If sunrise came before the call–or too close to it–he’d need to rest before delivering you. If he needed to rest, he had to secure you in a way to make sure you couldn’t escape. Nobody would bug you out there, but then again, anytime he thought that, he screwed himself over. Better safe than sorry, but still.
It was still early. Had hours before that became an issue.
“I need to use the washroom.”
That became his next problem.
Bucky lowered the book and studied you for a long, long moment. You squirmed under his gaze, struggling to hold it and throwing your look down at your lap and then the washroom.
“If I untie you, are you going to try something stupid?”
You frowned. “If I do, would you be annoyed?”
He found a smile again. Bad move.
“Probably,” he answered.
You nodded. “I can’t promise anything. The key’s in your coat, right?”
Bucky reached in and pulled the brass thing out. You quirked a brow at it and sniffled again. Eyed it like it was food he'd kept dangling in front of you for hours.
“Will you hurt me too badly if I give it a go?”
Again, he smiled. Fuck. He tilted his head and flicked the tip of his cowboy hat. Went back just enough to see you a little better.
“Nothing that’ll leave a lashing mark.”
You hummed.
The burn of curiosity and danger. There was no challenge here. He overpowered you. He was faster than you. His reflexes were inhuman. No person won this.
“I really do need to relieve myself,” you said. “Please don’t make me humiliate myself more than I already will.”
Bucky scoffed and slid off the crate. “Most people wouldn’t announce they’re going to try and escape.”
He came in at a casual speed, took one wrist in hand, and untied the rope with the other. Holding you like that, feeling everything tense and move.... Feeling you tremble and…and warm…. He clenched his jaw and held you tighter. You pulled a little at his grasp, but you wouldn't get free. He yanked on the other rope and caught your wrist. You didn't try moving it, though.
You behaved.
"Well, I figure there's no chance I'll win, but…." You grunted softly as Bucky pulled you upright. Right up chest to chest, a sliver of space between you, your hands held up next to your head. You flicked your eyes over his face, and your voice got breathier. Scared. “But if I don’t give it a shot, I’ll hate myself for it. If the risk’s something that’ll make this stay worse, it ain’t worth it. Hence my asking. I’ll take no attempt sitting comfortably over a broken limb leaving me in more agony.”
“Smart.”
His hands slid down to your elbows. Goosebumps that shouldn’t have been there were there in the next second. You had another hard swallow making your throat move, and Bucky turned you before he could look at your jugular. There was a small oof from you as you stumbled, but you found your footing after a moment. He didn’t need to follow or guide; you went right into the washroom.
The door clicked shut. There was no lock to use. And the floor creaked as you moved to the toilet. Your skirts ruffled. Bucky tuned out for privacy in the silence until he heard the sink. It ran for a little bit, turned off, then turned back on. Briefly. Off again.
He had narrowed eyes at the door when you opened it, drying off your hands on your dress with your gloves over your shoulder. Your face was cleaned. Not perfectly. The makeup was still smeared under your eyes, but where it’d left pretty stains on your cheeks, it’d been mostly wiped away. Some of it was left where you’d wiped your hands on your dress. Even the gag stayed around your throat.
You stood in the doorway hesitantly. Looked at the door leading out to the desert, then found him again.
“Go ahead,” Bucky said, holding up one hand.
Pulling your gloves back on, you swayed a little. “And you aren’t going to shoot me?”
“No. It’s a waste of bullets.”
“That offends me,” you murmured. “I feel like it should, at least.”
Fuck. He was smiling again. He stomped it down and put a hand on the opposite hip of his holster.
“And you won’t cut or stab me?” you asked, starting to fidget a little more.
"No, ma'am."
“And the whip?”
“The only things possible of leaving my belt are the cuffs and the rope, and that’s just to restrain you.”
You chewed your lip again. Harder than before. A quick flick of your eyes to the front door brought his hand up. He pulled his hat off and set it on the crate. You were going to try it. The wood floor would hurt, but if you tried to escape, he’d do what was needed.
“Does that door open toward us or away?”
“Toward,” he said, pushing the hair out of his eyes. Fell forward without that damn hat to hold it back.
“Shit.”
You frowned.
Oh. You were just going to throw yourself at it, weren’t you? Not a horrible move. But it was a better success rate if it opened to the outside. Seemed you thought the same–your frown only stayed.
“What pocket is the key in again?”
Bucky leaned back against the wall. “Miss (Y/L/N).”
“Alright. Alright.”
You wore the hesitancy well. Didn’t bother trying to hide it and turned your apprehension into your movements almost playfully. Studying him at the first step, you were waiting to see if he’d strike. Then you took another–Bucky didn’t budge. You walked like the floor was of sand, careful about each step, eyes never leaving him.
You went toward him, not the door.
Fidgeted with your gloves and fingers every step of the way.
Bucky didn’t move. Couldn’t thrown you to the ground already, but he was curious. You just…got closer. Move over that creaky wooden floor until you were right in front of him. Still chewed that lip. Just looked at him without knowing what your next move ought to be. Looked at him nervously and fearfully; he hadn’t moved yet.
You lifted one hand toward his coat, and he let you get as far as curling your trembling fingertips around the front flap. His right hand folded over yours, thumb pressing into your palm, and stopped you. You went stiff at the touch. At the push of your hand back and the slide of his hand down to your wrist, your breath hitched. Just a little.
“Really?”
You batted your lashes and then shrugged.
Bucky was faster than you, but he wasn’t prophetic. He caught the twitch in your other arm, and his left arm wasn’t as strong or mobile as his right. Your right hand came up, and he aimed to block it by shoving it back, but you weren’t going for his coat. You reached down. For the knife. The gun would’ve been smarter, but that was on his other side.
Your fingers brushed the handle, and he just swept his foot behind yours, hooked it, and pulled.
He went down with you. Not enough to crush you. And he had a modicum of mercy left somewhere in him that took some of the impact from knocking the wind from you. But it still wasn’t kind. You still grunted when your back hit the floor. Still squirmed. Still had a free right hand, but you reached up. Past his coat.
Bucky got over you, hand pinning your left beside your head, straddling your lap, his feet pinning your legs down. His brace glinted under that single overhead light while he got his hand around your wrist and shoved it back. Metal dug into the wooden floor, and Bucky seethed. You…you were frustratingly successful in one endeavor.
The black handkerchief on his face came down. All the way right past his chin.
He wanted to curse, but he didn't speak. Didn't part his lips at all. He shouldn't care about scaring you now out of spite and precedent. But he saw your eyes flick over his face, and that confusion took over. Your heart went racing even when you settled under him. You stopped squirming, stopped fighting. Just caught your breath under him–all dangerously warm beneath him–and frowned at him.
“I must say, Bucky, I expected something truly horrifying. You’re just a man.”
His jaw clenched tighter and tighter. He shouldn’t have tackled you. Being that close to you, he could feel everything. All his control kept his eyes from straying toward your jugular. From where he could fucking feel your heart stammering away.
Why did he care if you saw his fangs? Why did he care if you were terrified of him? You were a mark and nothing more. He'd never cared before. Sure as shit, he'd used it a few times. So why you?
His fists twitched.
It shouldn’t matter.
“Looks are deceiving,” he stated.
He didn't need to flash them off like some bastard, or so many idiots did. Just speaking was enough. You were already watching his mouth. By the end of the first word, he felt your blood chill. Your heart stammered away faster, faster, faster. Fear was a decadence in you that made you squirm a little more.
“Told you,” he murmured. “Didn’t want to scare you.”
Your mouth parted then shut. You didn’t say anything.
“Now, if I let you up, are you going to make me have to take you to the floor again, Miss (Y/L/N)?”
You shook your head.
“Great.”
You didn’t fight him when he pulled most of his weight off of you. You didn’t fight him when he hauled you to your feet, wrists in hand, and brought you back to your spot at the wall. And you didn’t fight him when he nudged the back of your knee, and you sank to the floor. Shaking, still.
He tied your wrists back up.
He went back to his crate and reached for the handkerchief. He thought about pulling it back up but kept it down. You watched him very, very carefully.
“Is that how you know about what goes on in dens?” you asked softly.
"Yup." He put his hat back on and eyed you carefully. Fuck. You were terrified. Couldn't-relax kind of terrified. Might-do-something-stupid kind of terrified. "I don't feed from humans anymore." He didn't need to tell you that. He didn't need to even talk to you. "Haven't for twenty years. Don't plan on starting now, Miss (Y/L/N). My word is true–I'm not going to harm you."
You shifted against that wall, eyes burning into him. Your fear was different, as he'd figured. He'd gotten used to the before and after; didn't mean it stung any less, even from a stranger. A mark.
“Unless that there phone rings and tells you to,” you breathed.
Bucky pressed his mouth together in a fine line. Followed your gaze back to it and stared at the old thing. Flecks of blood were still on it from the last kill. Thought he'd cleaned them all off. Their blood hadn't smelled appetizing, and cleaning it up hadn't made it any better. But Bucky was better about cleaning up.
If they told him to kill you, your blood would probably end up there. No. He’d do it clean. You smelled too good. It was temptation waiting to happen. And cleaner meant quicker. A snapped neck. Put you down quickly and without question.
He peered back at you, the tears in your eyes held back. Thinking of you lifeless in his arms, the snap of your neck under his hands, the pleading–you'd plead, and you'd use his name, too. He didn't like it. Not this time.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and tightened one of the straps on his left wrist. “Unless that.”
You nodded a little frantically. Terrified, but not bargaining or arguing. You’d get there. They always bargained. Always argued. But you just sat there looking elsewhere. Not quite at anything. Not the door, not the floor, not the wall, not him. Just…getting teary-eyed and quiet.
You stayed quiet again. For quite a while.
Bucky went back to reading, but the book was even more uninteresting than before. He’d already read it a hundred times over. He leaned his weight onto his right elbow and watched you instead. Listened to your heartbeat start to slow. Followed your breathing down to an easy steadiness. You still didn’t look at him. Just…calmed yourself.
Resolved yourself.
The night wore on.
It was near 3:30 when Bucky checked his pocket watch. You’d fallen into a bit of a silent daze. Most hit it near the end. The blinding, broken acceptance of what awaited them. It shouldn’t be death for you. The guy who’d hired him had been pretty damn certain your dad would pay the ransom.
Bucky hadn’t fucking gone into the job expecting to even hurt you unless you fought. There was an unease in his stomach. He was hungry. He looked at the phone in an idle glance. It was getting late.
“What if they don’t call?”
Your voice sounded weak. Shit. You hadn’t eaten. Came from enough money to buy that nice dress and secure food on the table for every meal and snacks in between. But still could’ve been hungry. Thirsty, at the very least.
“They’ll call.” Bucky looked back at the phone. “They always call.”
Your swallow sounded dry. Your lips looked a little chapped. Damn it. Bucky shouldn’t have cared, but he still slid from the crate. A bag on the other side of it had food and water. He hauled it up and strolled over to you. You didn’t flinch or try to pull away. Just watched him with tired eyes.
He knelt and flipped the knapsack open.
“What if they don’t? Humor me, Bucky.”
He pulled out a canteen and twisted it open. You didn’t look trusting of it, but it wasn’t like Bucky could taste it. He didn’t need food or water. It’d make him vomit up something disgusting, and he didn’t feel like dealing with that.
You looked at it a moment longer, then him, before your shoulders slumped and you leaned forward. He wasn’t going to hurt you. If he was, he would’ve already.
He brought the canteen to your lips and tilted it. Water dribbled down from the corners of your mouth even at the light angle, but you still drank most of it.
“I’ll decide what happens if that phone doesn’t ring. I’ve had to wait more than a day before for this. Just give it some time.”
He lowered the canteen just as you started coughing.
"Just going to leave me in suspense, then?"
Bucky shrugged with just his right shoulder. Tightened the lid on the green canteen and held it between you. You'd drank half of it. Shit. He should've given you water sooner with how much you'd been crying.
"So you just always go by someone else's instruction, then?"
Simple words. Muttered words. Words that snuck through Bucky’s layers of leather coat, shirt, undershirt, and the very semblance of his skin, meat, and bones. Jerked his eyes to yours, face to face, finding fight still left in you. Fight he would’ve otherwise appreciated if you hadn’t just struck a nerve.
Nerves–he was unfortunately aware of–that were still sensitive and tender.
“Weren’t you following mommy and daddy’s rules until tonight?”
You didn’t flinch away. Just licked the remnants of the water from your mouth. Bucky watched in annoyance.
“So you’re a dog leashed to his orders, then?”
“And you’re a dog that’s gotta be bought back from the pound before it’s put down,” Bucky snapped.
How the fuck had you gotten under his skin? You still didn’t flinch at his words. Didn’t cower from the bite in his voice. Just held his gaze while your heart pounded away, giving you away. The fear was still a tremble in your grasp on the rope. Still a stuttering in your heart that wasn’t calming down.
Lashing out in an attempt to be brave. Hiding fear behind anger–his anger.
“I’m a hired gun,” Bucky said slowly, keeping that snappy tone in check. “They give me instructions. I follow them for my price. It’s that simple.”
You leaned your head back against the wall. Your whole body shifted with a sigh.
“So you’ve never had a job where you never got the call?”
Bucky should’ve stalked back to the crate, hopped up, and went back to reading. Instead, his hands found the sandwich in the bag and unwrapped it. He held the corner up to your mouth. You eyed it suspiciously, and he just gave you that look again. You frowned, leaned forward, and took a bite.
"I haven't. They always call. Only deviation just strays between whether they keep the mark alive or kill them and dispose or deliver the body."
You swallowed the bite and stared at the sandwich. It was a generic sweet fruit spread from a nearby general store. Bucky started to tense. If you just about asked if he'd done something to the sandwich, he had an annoyed look, locked and loaded. The raccoons could eat the rest.
“You said you don’t feed off of humans,” you murmured. Bucky tilted his chin up. “So you’ve killed, but never…?”
He brought the sandwich up to you. You took another bite at his forced offer.
“No. Make a point not to.”
You swallowed again. He tried real fucking hard not to watch. Not to look at your neck. The way you licked the corner of your mouth made it easier. Probably made him a bigger asshole that he liked looking at your mouth more than he wanted to take a bite out of you.
“If I ask why, would you answer?”
Bucky’s eyes dropped. Didn’t mean for them to. He was supposed to look at the sandwich before giving you another bite. But his eyes snagged on your throat. Jugular. Right there. Felt the beat of your heart in the air. Felt it quicken in the instant you realized where he was looking.
Fuck. He was too aware of his fangs. Too aware of you.
He lifted the sandwich, eyes still down. The sandwich blocked the view.
If you asked him, would he answer? Not quite a loaded question, but the answer was. If he gave you the real answer. He’d never talked about it with anyone before. Anyone who hired him knew of it already. Part of the reason they did hire him. Had a past he might've hated, but they sure as shit loved.
What would telling you do besides making him say the words?
You took another bite.
What would not saying them do but keep them silent as they always were? Wasn’t like you knowing would change anything. Maybe it’d help you understand his position and yours. Shouldn’t matter to him. None of it should.
He lowered the sandwich and looked back at the phone. Still wasn’t ringing.
Shit.
“Was a part of a clan once upon a time,” he said strangely. His voice wasn’t quite his, but he knew it. Heard the words countless times over in his head. “They caught me while serving. I was drafted.” He reached into his layers until his fingers touched the familiar metal. One hook, one tug, and he pulled the old tags out. You straightened a little at the sight, but he tucked them away quickly. “Barrel of gunpowder exploded, and….”
He lifted his left arm. You flicked your gaze over the brace but said nothing.
“Those of us who survived were brought to medical. They came at night. Took us. Changed us.” He could still feel the visceral pain through his arm from the moment of the injury, through the shock, to when he was thrown over someone’s shoulder through a myriad of screams. Of blood. He’d blacked out from the pain. “Half of us made it through it. Except they didn’t want us to expand their clan. When we changed, they kept us hungry.” In cages. Locked in fucking cells like rabid dogs. “Wanted us rabid. Used us and stuck us with people who wronged them. Or people who needed to…. Used us to send a message.”
He still stared at the phone. It wasn’t ringing.
“That hunger takes a toll. Five survived initially. Four died over the course of a month.”
“You didn’t,” you murmured.
Bucky pulled his eyes back to you. There was…. There was almost sympathy in your eyes.
“Yeah.” He clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I didn’t.” He cleared his throat and fixed how his hat sat on his head. “Well, I sobered up enough from the feral state enough to get the fuck out of there. Used feeding dens for a bit, but I lost the taste for human blood after that. Switched to animal. Stuck with animal.”
He lifted the sandwich back up. You didn’t take a bite.
“Is that a real story?”
He could’ve said no. But for some reason, he couldn’t find the answer. He couldn’t find any answer. He just tilted the sandwich a little closer to you.
Your brows came together hard. There was that glimmering sympathy again. Made something that shouldn't have existed pinch in his chest.
“I’m sorry.”
Bucky didn't have an answer to that. He didn't want your sympathy. He'd never had anyone's before, and he didn't need yours. Couldn't have yours anyhow. Fuck. He lowered the sandwich, grabbed his bag, and stalked back to the crate. It was a loud thump on top of it, and he placed both hands down on the edge.
Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t have gone that far back. All the hunger. All the blood. Wasn’t him anymore. Wasn’t. He had it under control. He was fine.
He glanced at the phone.
He never called early.
He wouldn’t call.
They’d call. They’d call soon.
“Well, there goes my one request if they ask you to kill me,” you muttered.
Bucky turned at the awkward sniffle and laugh combination. You still looked apologetic. Still looked sympathetic. He wanted to look away, but he kept focus on you.
“Who says I’d honor one?”
You did a half-shrug as best as you could like that.
“Was gonna ask if you’d at least bite me. Uh. That’s what I was going out to experience. Just…wanted to know. Heard so much about the effects of the bites, so my friends said they’d bring me to a place they went to. But that feels weirdly inappropriate now. With you.” You pursed your lips and dropped your head back. “Probably is anyhow. Even if you hadn’t told me that. But….”
Another shrug.
“Guess we just wait now?”
Bucky went still. He'd had last requests before. If the person had struck any interest in him, and it was a simple interest–a cigarette, a drink–he'd honor it. Fuck it. Not everyone he hauled out to that windowless place was a criminal. You weren’t. But he’d never been asked to bite someone before. It pulled him right out of the memories and solidified him right in that very moment.
He'd taken you, tied you up, manhandled you. And you were still going to ask him to bite you? In feeding dens, there was an understanding. Guards were there to keep things safe enough. Shit still went sideways and escalated. It was practically a room of a constant, blood-addled orgy. He'd gotten lost in one once when he'd been drifting near that feral hunger before. It'd been right after escaping, and he hadn't gotten a lid on it yet.
Was only in there for a few hours, but he’d crawled out before the sun rose covered in scratches with the taste of multiple people on his fangs and…and awareness that he’d fucked more than a few people. Lost in the craze of feeding….
Bucky kept that control tight since.
They would’ve eaten you alive–metaphorically–in that den until there wasn’t an ounce of innocence left. Gone in for a bite? You would’ve left with a dozen and a fuzzy, warm obsession that’d probably fade into guilt later at what happened while high on the bite.
That was the expectation. In a den, that's what happened. But outside with one vampire? Outside of the guards and the expected? There was either death waiting at the other end, or it was a trust that you wouldn’t be killed. And you looked to the one vampire you had, sure, but one with no trust to have in, and you wanted him to bite you?
That didn’t make sense.
It was your only option. You weren’t that desperate to know, were you?
“Do you think a vampire just bites and then stops?” he asked.
You lifted your chin, brows coming together again.
“I…. I mean….” Your lips made the kind of pout that churned Bucky’s stomach. He wanted to crash his lips to yours and part them, kissing you with that threatening ferocity that promised danger around the corner. That gave you the unsaid threats that you should fuck around with vampires like they were a shot of liquor to order at a bar. “My friends said you could ask for that. Just to get a taste of what a bite was like before going all in.”
Bucky looked at you. Really looked at you. You believed that. You genuinely believed it was that morally sound. That’s where your naivety went? Through everything, just rolling with being taken, being upfront about trying to take the key and escape, and not fighting him on anything–it was vampires that you were lost on?
"One bite, and you're pulling your dress off and begging for them to bite you everywhere, Miss (Y/L/N)," Bucky stated rather bluntly. "One bite and you'll be blubbering for them to keep feeding before you even realize they already are. The only way you're getting a vampire to bite and not feed is if they want to torment you. They want to see you begging and crying for relief. You do not go into a den to just ask for a bite, Miss (Y/L/N). Your friends are pricks if they led you to believe that in good faith."
Your breathing wasn’t quite steady, but for the words spoken to your face, your breaths were solid. Deep, yes. Dangerous, Bucky realized as you processed the words. Your eyes fell from his down to his belt, but you didn’t look at anything in particular, and there was a clenching in your jaw that joined a whole bout of tension throughout your body.
Tears were welling, but they didn’t fall.
“The bites are that strong?” you murmured, but you still didn’t look at him.
“Yes.”
Your next breath shuddered. “They aren’t good friends. I’d met them two weeks ago at a carnival. They were kind to me. I was ignorant. I…. I don’t have many friends. As you can probably guess.” You swallowed hard and let out another more controlled breath. “I took them at their word out of desperation.”
Shit. Bucky’s shoulders slumped.
“Dens are expensive, even shit ones. You aren’t exactly an unknown name, Miss (Y/L/N).”
“Yeah,” you muttered. “Unfortunately, I am painfully aware of that right now.”
Bucky felt that strangeness in his chest again. Felt almost humanistic, but he sure as shit wasn't capable of that anymore. Sympathy, sure. Pity, yeah. But he'd long lost his ways through faults that weren't even his own. He'd been pulled out of the muck and mud himself, wounded, barely alive, and then, when he woke, he was starving and craving blood. A feral monster without a shred of his dignity or humanity left.
Pieces came back when he sobered up from the hunger. But he still wasn’t human.
He didn't feel this level of understanding with a stranger…did he?
Paying for someone else's sins. Damn it. He was going to break a damn fang with how hard he was clenching his jaw. Paying for someone else’s interests. Wasn’t your fault your daddy pissed someone off. Wasn’t your fault you shared blood.
“The barrel,” you murmured. “Was that what happened…?”
You nodded toward his left arm. Bucky’s hand twitched.
“Yeah.”
“Getting changed didn’t heal it?”
“Well, it was considerably more disgusting before the bite with pieces missing, so….” He lifted his hand and turned it in the light. It was scarred to hell and back and wasn’t pretty, but it was there. “Wouldn’t quite say it healed. Most of this isn’t the me from before. Need the brace to make it work, too.” He dropped his hand and fought a wince. “So, no. A great constant reminder of what they said I ought to be thanking them for.”
“We saved your pathetic life. You should be on your knees grateful.”
Bucky still felt the sneer through the bars of the cell. Got a bit of retribution when he ripped their throat out when escaping. That was momentarily satisfying enough.
“It hurts?”
You actually sounded sincere. That was worse. Bucky made the mistake of glancing up, and there was that sincere look to go with it. Felt that gnawing again.
“Yeah.” He tightened one of the straps. “Constantly.”
“That’s a really shitty hand to be dealt.”
Ha. Bucky's lips curled involuntarily. It was a small smile, but you weren't saying sorry, and you weren't beating around the bush. He appreciated that. First person that wasn't someone hiring him that he'd talked about this with, and you'd swapped away from the empathy and pity pretty quickly.
“I’ve had seventy years to get over it. I’m coming to terms.”
“Wow.” You laughed a little and shook your head. “Don’t look that old.”
"Well, technically, I was thirty when they turned me, so…."
He waved at himself. You nodded. Your smile fell a little, and your eyes drifted over to the phone. Still hadn't rung. Still wasn't.
“Will you make it quick, at least? If you kill me?”
Bucky tilted his head and adjusted his hat again. That was an easy answer he could give you.
“Won’t even feel it,” he mused.
A bittersweet smile greeted him.
“Thanks.”
Bucky nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Minutes ticked by. You closed your eyes, not seeming to sleep but just thinking. You weren't crying, nor did you. Just leaned back and thought whatever you were thinking. Maybe if he had more of his humanity left, he might've felt another gnawing in his stomach that crawled up to his chest, knowing that no matter what outcome awaited on the phone call, it wasn't going to be good. If you lived, this was going to stay with you. He wasn't sure if it was for better or for worse.
Maybe if he had more humanity, he wouldn't have been listening to the sound of your heart through those passing minutes. The rush of your blood. The stuttering of your breathing as you attempted to calm yourself. That familiar scent of fear that wasn't having the same effect on him as it had with others prior. A turn-off, a familiar disgust before he tore someone apart and left a corpse behind in his hunger.
Hungry. He was getting hungry.
And the sight of you tied up like a promised meal was framed in the last request–your first last request.
Bucky redid all the straps on his arm. Twice.
He’d never been so tempted before. Not pushed to the point where he didn’t trust himself. Even if the job hadn’t asked to keep you unharmed, he wouldn’t. He had his lines. But he was inching toward a new temptation he hadn’t felt since he started the switch to animal blood. You were just a deadly combination he hadn’t encountered so genuinely in years.
Pretty, sincere, unbitten, and you smelled like…like the bakeries he’d used to pass back to his shared apartment. Once upon a time. A life gone. Easier to mourn decades later instead of falling down into the depths of the pretty, tasty-looking you bound in front of him.
Bucky never claimed to be any sorts of good after getting changed, but old remnants of himself were muscle memories. Would’ve punched a prick out in some crappy bar if he knew you were being looked at like he was looking at you.
Would’ve been a frustrating path to walk–old him in memories that he clung to in order to never forget that last bit of himself versus the vampire who wanted to kiss your pulse in your jugular.
Shit.
His cock twitched. Been ages, and it was like getting fucking shocked. A bolt right to his neck that made his heart jolt in dangerous ways. Felt like–
A harsh, unbearable ringing echoed through the room. You jerked upright and looked from Bucky to the phone. Bucky followed your gaze. Finally. Your pulse was in his ears as he wasted no time in moving from the crate. Your heart rampaged, and your breaths grew shallow and nervous. His fingers brushed the handle, and he picked it up.
“So?” he said into it.
“Is she alive?” said a crackly voice.
“Yes.”
Your heart didn’t slow. Neither did your breathing.
“He paid. Rough her up. Drop her off where you found her.”
Bucky’s hand twitched on the phone. Rough you up. He stared at the worn numbers on the phone in front of him, your heartbeat in his ears. The sniffling. The staggered breaths.
“Fine,” he answered.
“Pearlpond off Route 5. Leisure Inn. Ask for Julien. You’ll get the rest of your payment.”
The line cut. Bucky hung up. He stared at the phone as you started sniffling again.
“He paid,” he said without hesitation. He could put you out of that misery quickly. “Seems your daddy cares more than you think.”
“It’d look bad if he got his only daughter killed,” you muttered. “Still thought he would take that in order to punish me, though.”
“I have to rough you up,” Bucky said before you even finished. The last of your words trailed off into nothing, and Bucky did what he’d have to do anyway. He faced you.
You didn't look quite that surprised. Didn't even look all that offended. Scared a little, yeah. But you just shared his gaze and…and nodded. Chewed your lip, shifted back into a more comfortable position, and just nodded.
“Okay.”
But Bucky didn’t move. You just…said okay. That was it. Resolved. Just–
“How?” You let your head rest against the wall and gave him a rather longing look. “How are you going to hurt me, Bucky?”
Oh, fuck you, he thought. It worked. Damn it all–that look you gave him, the way you pleaded his name without even begging. It fucking…. If he had it in him, out of pure spite and frustration, he would’ve done what was needed to prove that you hadn’t gotten in his head. No human got under his goddamn skin.
But, for some reason, you did.
He didn’t want to feel your ribs fracture or bruise your jaw. Wasn’t against choking you, but that was coming from a different part of him that wanted you to wear his hand like a collar. The heartbeat in his ears was screwing with his thoughts. Damn it.
He…. He felt it again. That twitch. The jolt. Electric temptation down his spine.
He had the control.
He didn’t want to hurt you.
He wouldn’t hurt you.
He wasn’t going to.
Two birds with one stone.
He stalked toward you, and you pushed back against the wall.
“Bucky,” you sputtered. The fear was palpable. “Bucky, please.” You opened one hand. “This is my non-dominant hand. Please. Bucky.”
He knelt over you and brought his right hand to your chin. You started to pull from his grasp, but that’s what he wanted anyway. He moved your chin with the motion, making you look at the wall while he leaned in. You were shaking uncontrollably. He pulled his hat off and felt tear cold against his cheek when he leaned in.
You smelled good.
He pushed up on your chin to give him a slightly better vantage point, and he went lower. Away from your jugular. It called to him. Begged him. Pleaded and tempted and beckoned him. But Bucky fought it. He went to your collarbone, where it'd be harder to cover it up.
Your breath hitched.
“Bucky?” you breathed.
“I’m going to bite you,” he muttered just above you. His hair came down and brushed against your chest. “Then I’m going to sit over there until it passes. Do not fucking ask for me. I’m not going to fucking touch you. When the sun’s up, I’m sleeping. Don’t care what state you’re in. When night comes again, you’ll go home. Okay?”
You shuddered. “Okay.”
Bucky nodded. Could hear your heart. Could fucking feel it. It was all-consuming. He’d be fine. One bite. He’d wipe his fangs, then he’d be away from you. He’d dealt with blood before. He could deal with yours. It’d be fine. Sending you bake with a vampire bite where it couldn’t be covered was roughing you up enough. Spoke a thousand other words he didn’t even have to do with you.
Do it, Bucky, he thought. Just get it over with.
He pressed his mouth to your collarbone and felt your warmth against his lips. Soft. Warm. Sweet. He licked the spot without meaning to. Old habits. Really old habits. You shuddered again, not fighting his hold on your chin.
Do it.
He parted his lips and pressed the tips of his fangs against your skin. Thin and tender. It'd hurt for a second. A pinch. Then it'd feel good. So damn good. He probably should've tied your ankles, but it was too late.
He closed his eyes and braced himself.
With a tilt of his head, his fangs pierced your skin with dangerous familiarity. The rush was immediate. Felt it through his veins and nerves. Felt the hunger tear through him as blood seeped from the holes.
His vision blurred. Hunger raged.
He pushed himself back and wiped his fangs, but the taste of you hit his tongue.
You writhed already. He spat next to him, shaking, pushing himself farther back. But you were a temptation in his peripherals. A tilt of his head…. His stomach churned with need as your eyes glazed over with need. You looked at him, still. You didn’t fall head-first into it. You chewed your lip, pulled on the ropes, and heaved heavy breaths while blood trickled down from the small puncture wound.
“Oh my god,” you whined.
A dangerous sound to his ears.
“Oh…my….” You winced and threw your head back, pulling still on those ropes. Brought your thighs together so quickly and squirmed. “Bucky.”
He was on his feet, key in hand. Your heart was a rhythm meant to draw him in. The taste of you remaining on his tongue was torture. He unlocked the door, threw it open, and stepped outside. The last of the night rained down on him with a rush in his ears. Rapids ran together in his mind, his thoughts jumbling. Screaming. Pulling him apart from both ends.
What the fuck was he thinking?
Why did he think that was a good idea?
His stomach churned again. Gargled. Grumbled.
Feed, his body screamed.
You tasted…so good. The kind of good he'd never had. Before, while feral. In the dens. Fuck. No, no. You were fucking decadent. One taste and it was almost enough. Like you were rich and…and impossible. Good–so good.
Could still hear you. Could still feel you.
Your dress rustled as you writhed. You whimpered and whined while pulling on the ropes. Starting to plead, then stopping. Starting to say his name, then clamping your mouth shut. Did you get it now? Did you get that rush and understanding you were looking for? How impossible it was to take a vampire bite and not fall into the depths of it?
Nobody was immune. It was just how it worked.
It was too close to morning. Bucky shouldn't have done it. The sun was already starting to creep up, and he hadn't been outside nearly long enough. Fuck. He couldn’t go back in there. He had to go back in there. Fuck.
Damn it all.
The first rays threatened, and he threw the door open and went back in.
He was assaulted with it before he even shut the damn door. The sight, the sounds, the smell. He barely managed to lock the door. You took over everything.
Half-lidded eyes, a slightly swollen lip from where you'd been chewing it, that blood staining the top of your dress, and where it'd started to stop continuously spilling from the wound over your chest. Sweat was a light glisten, and your dress was nearly bunched up over your thighs. And you looked at him in the haze with so much longing.
He was so fucking hungry.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” you muttered. “Haven’t seen you eat this entire time.”
Worst words you could’ve said. An outright come take from me without any tangent, and he could've turned that down. But that? You were fucking aware of it. Of him. And you actually looked concerned. That wasn't fair. Bucky wasn't used to that. He wasn't fucking used to having anyone who even remotely gave a damn about him, so why the fuck were you?
He pressed his head back against the door until it hurt.
You whined a little and gave him a rather proper, bittersweet smile.
“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” You tilted your head, giving him the perfect access to your throat. “And you promise not to kill me.”
His fangs ached.
You gave him a needy look.
“I trust you, Bucky.”
Why? He pushed up from the door. You shouldn’t. Should’ve hated him. Should’ve cursed him. Should’ve been crying for help the second he took the gag down. Should’ve been doing much more than making friends with him.
Twenty years, and you broke him down.
Fuck it.
"If I untie those hands, are you going to do something stupid?" he asked. His voice was his, but...not. Not quite that feral voice, but he had to keep his wits about him.
“Well, if you don’t tear my dress off, I will, if that counts.”
He managed a laugh. He still forced a detour. Left the key to the door, his weapons, and his whip on top of the crate. He tried to think straight. Don’t feed. But the scent of it–of you–was antagonistic. He felt it beyond a consciousness. An animalistic hunger tore through him. Maybe the animal blood wasn’t satiating him as much as he’d thought.
Fuck it all.
You looked up at him so longingly when he stalked toward you.
Fuck it.
He knelt over you, pulled at the knots on both wrists, and you were freed. Your arms wrapped around his neck like you'd been waiting all night to do that. It was the bite. There was no goodwill there. No good Bucky ever deserved. And you grabbed fistfuls of his hair and brought him to you.
Finally got to feel those pretty lips on his. In a kiss that wasn't necessary. Didn't need to kiss you to feed–no, ma'am. But you whined at the touch. Whined as he wrapped his arms around your upper half and pushed back from the wall. Whined as you fell over him, giving him all of you, and parted your lips.
He’d never much cared for anything human after the change, but he’d never tasted something as sweet as you. The brush of your tongue against his was like waking him up from a sleep he hadn’t known he’d fallen into. You rocked over him, trying to get your skirts up to straddle him without breaking the kiss. The motions, the taste of you, the feel of your mouth coming back to his like you needed him–it was the bite. He felt blood drip down onto his shirt, coat, his neck.
He reached down and damn near tore your skirt getting it up. He turned his head, hoisting you up with it, and you straddled his lap the second his mouth found your throat.
“Please,” you moaned into his hair.
He already drew his tongue over your jugular. Already pulled and pulled and pulled until that endless billowing fabric was scrunched up by your hips. The weight of you on his lap woke him up more. His cock throbbed, and a tension echoed through the rest of him. Needed you. Needed you badly.
He licked along your jugular until he felt you shudder.
His right hand dared it.
He pulled you up enough, taking the friction from his cock and pushing down on the small of your back. This was the closest he could come to restraint. Control hovered while he arched your back and angled your hips how he needed. One last gathering of your skirts and Bucky's fangs skidded over the tender skin in tandem with his hand sliding over your ass. Nothing left to cover. Warm, soft skin. Your stockings rubbed against his sides as you figured out what he wanted to give you, and you offered.
You shifted just enough.
Bucky kissed the spot on your throat right as his fingers brushed over your sopping cunt.
Poor thing.
Poor him.
Poor the both of you.
He sank his fangs into your throat and pushed two fingers into you.
You whined into his hair, pulling on the strands, and he got a taste of you. A real taste of you. Human blood–your blood–like the finest aged whiskey. The finest dessert made with the finest ingredients. A drop of blood after a week without. He didn’t know how hungry he was.
He propped his knee up in the last bit of true consciousness he had and made sure his thigh found your cunt. He drilled his fingers into you with sopping, squelching sounds that became a melody of sin with the slurp along your throat.
He was fucking starved.
"Don't stop. Don't ever stop," you pleaded into his hair. "'M gonna…gonna…." He could feel it. Barely. Through the haze of delicious, Bucky felt your cunt flutter around his fingers. He held you closer and rutted his fingers in harder. Needed to fuck you. He would. You’d get there together soon. You’d be begging him before he could even get his jeans undone, surely. “Bucky. Oh, fuck me.”
Well, that was sort of it.
You started shaking–you’d been shaking–but this was different. This was you pulling his hair and moaning into it. Pressing your chest to his and pushing your hips back, giving him more to give you. More and more and more. You sobbed. He needed more. He needed more of you–needed to eat.
Blood smeared while he held you by the back of your neck. Locked you against him, lapping at your throat, rocking you on his fingers and his thigh. You were there. His cock screamed for you. Ached. He’d have you. He would. Needed you like this first, though. Needed you fisting his hair while your thighs quivered. Wanted your clit so sensitive from the rough of his jeans that when he just flicked it with his tongue, you screamed for him.
Already were.
“Bucky. Yes. Yes.” You tensed. “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”
What the fuck had he told you? You'd fall into it without fucking any hope of just taking the bite as a bite. Your cunt fluttered, then clenched. He didn't falter on his speed, didn't change rhythm. Just fucked the cunt he ached to see and taste as you rushed toward that blinding peak.
It hit you like you hadn’t been expecting it. Your knees gave out, and his leg being up was all that kept you from falling. Oh, Miss (Y/L/N). You humped his leg while his fingers stayed deep in you, taking every tensing of your cunt as you came as a chance to push you further. Harder; you wouldn't cum like this again. A slippery slope, unfortunately. Probably should've told you that before.
Too late.
“Oh, god,” you breathed.
“God ain’t here, Miss (Y/L/N),” Bucky muttered.
He flipped you onto your back and pinned you. Knew he was a mess of your blood. Felt it smeared across his chin and dripping down. Saw the look in your eye of brief recognition that it was your blood he licked from his lips, and you tilted your head back and licked your lips at the sight. Miss (Y/L/N). Bucky pulled his hand from between your legs and licked his fingers, holding that burning stare from you in pleading desperation for more. A second bite would have you climaxing from a gust of wind on your cunt.
He moaned at the taste of you across his tongue. Mixed with your blood….
He pulled his fingers out and dropped his hand. You tensed a little as it came to your throat, yet you still moved your chin up for him. Blood seeped through his fingers as he gradually tightened his hold. Bit by languid bit, until you were gasping. Until he felt your pulse thumping under his fingers and the seeping blood slowed.
You held him at his wrist with one hand. The other reached until it got the small tie of your dress that kept the collar all tight. With your small breaths moving your chest, you pulled it. It opened. Bucky loosened his grasp and slid his hand down. Blood smeared. It came across the swells of your breasts and down to unstained parts of your dress. He hooked his fingers around the loosening collar and yanked.
He licked more blood from his lips at the sight of your breasts. Pretty. So fucking pretty. Nipples hard and begging for attention. Spilling out from the way the dress tucked underneath them. Bucky was a man unturned again. Stopped in those towns on the way to fight, lonely night after lonely night, only to find someone pretty in town to have drinks with, buy flowers, take out dancing, then fucking raw against the back of the building until they were both exhausted.
His balls were tight. His cock ached. When was the last time he even jerked off?
He brought both hands to your chest and kneaded your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you pushed into his touch. Every squeeze. Every press of his palm against your nipples. Every brush of his thumbs over them before he captured them in a gradually tightening tweak.
You dug your heels into the floor and moaned through your teeth. He pinched them a little harder, released, then repeated it. Do so until your chest was smeared red, your nipples were perfect, tender points in his fingers, and you were lifting your hips to nothing.
Hungry. Bucky leaned back down. So hungry. He lapped at your neck again, pinning your hands by your head and nudging your knees open with his. So goddamn hungry. He almost bit you again, but his cock brushed against your cunt, and the sound you made as he felt the jolting bolt of need was surprisingly distracting.
It was a give-and-take. A back and forth. The visceral hunger and the need to fuck you.
The hunger ravished, but the ache to fuck kept him more grounded than he'd anticipated. He'd fuck you. He'd fuck you until his body told him he had to rest. But he was latching onto a different part of it. In dens, when everyone was in the heat of it, it was a different sort of blinding. Things got lost in each other. Clothing vanished before one realized they had taken it off. Someone might cum three times before they even fully registered someone started sucking them off.
Then it'd hit like a fucking wild horse, and you'd really drown in the pleasure.
This, with you, just the two of you? He felt every brush of your bodies. Every breath you took. Knew you felt it, too. You were still saying his name. Slightly slurred, but you were with him. Wanting him. This was you fucking needing him, and you were conscious of it even through the cunt-soaking sin of the bite.
He kissed lower. He was barely keeping control. He could’ve latched on and fed until he was full, then tossed you aside. Could’ve latched on, slid his cock into you, and then ate while fucking you. Giving into the fierce needs.
He didn’t. He clawed through and held on.
He kissed down over your breasts and left red kisses beneath him. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and hummed. Holy fuck. You pulled at his coat and wrapped your legs around him. He stayed there, suckling and nibbling without breaking skin. Went between breasts, nibbling still, biting a little harder but still keeping you without new bites. But you weren’t without marks. Constant marks. Hickies scattered across your breasts, teeth marks where he bit down just enough to leave them prominently. Every fucking inch of your breasts.
They were his.
You were his.
He flicked a nipple with his tongue, and you jerked like he’d propped you with something electric.
His.
"Please," you breathed, pulling at him again. "Need to…again." You pressed your hips against him. "Gonna go mad, Bucky."
He knew.
He kissed lower.
Your brows furrowed.
He bunched your skirts up and went lower still. Oh. You looked at him with confusion, trying to pull at his coat. Oh, Miss (Y/L/N). He was going to enjoy this. He licked the corner of his mouth and took his hands to your thighs. Nudged them apart. Nudged them back.
“Buck–”
He didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. Had the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen, and he needed more of you on his tongue. He’d get more. Your thigh begged to be bitten, and he would. But he dove into your cunt and pinned your hips down. He lapped at your clit without grace or mercy.
Poor thing.
Your head hit the ground, and you choked out a painful-sounding gasp. He was careful with his fangs when he sucked your pretty clit into his mouth. Too sensitive for what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. Your thighs were already quivering. Your cunt dripped onto the floor and left his chin glistening.
“Oh…oh my…oh my god, Bucky. This….” Your whole body shuddered. Your back started to arch. “Holy–”
He dove two fingers into your cunt again. Squelching, sopping–he curled them in, cold into the burning, wet warmth, and found that spot. That spongy spot. Tender and so sensitive. He groaned into you, and you clamped down over his fingers.
He grinned.
Feral, he started to feel himself slip. Further and further with every squirm you gave him, every desperate sound. He felt that control falling into a beastly state.
Needed you.
That’s all he knew.
He needed you.
Your hips jerked. Your thighs tried to close. He sucked too hard on your clit, and yet? You screamed, rocking your hips against him, taking his fingers, letting out choked breaths as you came. You gushed around his fingers, and Bucky didn't stop. He broke away from your cunt only to sink his fangs into the meat of your thigh, licked a few licks at the wound, and then he was back on your clit. He had to hold you down, and you took it. Eagerly.
You sobbed.
You pleaded his name as you came again in seconds, your whole body shaking while your cunt spasmed.
He got a third finger into you while sucking from the bite mark on your thigh. Taking more. Then a little more. Then he was back at your clit, and his hands were on his pants.
He brought you right to the edge, clit swollen and so sensitive, before he stopped. He freed his cock. One last snack on your thigh, and he was crawling back up you with just enough space for you to look down at see his cock.
Already had a leg hook around his waist.
He didn’t wait.
When your noses brushed, he crashed his lips to yours and pressed the tip of his cock against you. You took him. You took him with a fucking pull at his jacket and clawing up under and bunching up his shirts.
You felt fucking perfect. Like you were made to fit together.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you sputtered into the kiss.
Bucky thought the same thing.
Bucky groaned, fully sheathed in your cunt, pushing you back a little on the floor before he chased with you. You locked your ankles over him, held him there like you were scared he’d given you a taste and was about to leave. Fuck that. He was far from done with you.
He brushed his lips over yours and licked some smeared blood from the corner.
Your eyes locked, and in that brief moment, that small pause, you nodded.
Pleaded.
Begged in desperate silence.
Bucky nodded in return.
He pulled his hips back until just his tip filled you, and then he rutted in. Holy fuck. If words like this had meaning anymore, he might've referred to the sensation as heavenly. But fuck it, if Bucky wasn't instantly lost. Everything blurred together in the best of ways. He fucked you, his right arm around you, fucking you into the hard floor. Fucked you with his face tucked into your neck. Fucked you until you were both making feral, needy sounds. Choking on your breaths, he lapped at your throat, taking what bits of you he could in the depths of sin.
You writhed when you came. Pulled at him. His coat came off. Then, his shirt. His pants were halfway down his thighs. He rolled you over before you even started to come down from the high, nudging your legs apart, keeping your dress shoved up, and slammed back into you. Fucked you through the last remnants of it before continuing at that pace, bullying another orgasm through you before you could even catch your breath.
On your sides, he stayed like that, fucking you from behind, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple. Pinched it while he rubbed your clit. Rough, imperfect movements, but ones that made you tilt your head toward the floor and scream as you came.
He came like that the first time. Slammed home, a leg under yours, and reached down to hold you steady while he spilled into you. He kept you like that, rubbing your clit again as you sobbed. Drooled. He kissed your shoulder and left marks of him in his wake while you spasmed around his cock again.
Making you cum was as addicting as tasting you.
“There you go,” he breathed, one hand on your hips. Your dress was on the floor. He was barely aware that the sun was up, but who the fuck cared. In just stockings, you sank down on his cock. His boots and jeans were by your dress. His shirts were elsewhere. He propped himself up on his right elbow and brought his hand to your throat, wincing at the light pain in his hand, but he managed. He kept the puncture wound on your throat tight. “Keep going.”
You kept going. Cum leaked out of you as you rode him. You were both tired. This was the last of it. He’d need to tend to the wounds unless he wanted you to die. Wouldn’t let you. Long ago decided he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were so good. So fucking good. He barely kept control he hadn’t thought he could when he first tasted you, but he managed. He managed and managed, and he was partially sure it was because he would never forgive himself if he killed you. He shouldn’t have cared, but you got under his skin.
And then you had to go and get under there further like this.
Lost in hunger and the feeding and the bites, sure–but feeling you on his cock…. There were parts of him that weren’t dormant anymore. Parts that twitched inside of you while you bounced on his cock harder. Then harder. The last of your makeup painting your face in needy tears.
His dog tags shifted on his chest.
Almost felt human again. Parts of him. Some part of him in his chest.
The rest was all vampire.
He brought his hands back to your hips, fell to his back, and guided you. Rutted into you and made you bounce. The sight of you, the sounds, the feel, the way you sputtered his name and trusted him. You fucking trusted him for no goddamn reason.
He started to grind his teeth.
He had your back on his chest by your next breath, legs spread open, his hand on your clit. He fucked you with the last bit of strength he had and teased your poor clit until you were spasming. Climaxing. Again. You clenched around his cock and whined, toes curling and back arching–you sobbed for him.
You came for him. Beautifully.
Bucky slammed in deep and followed you over the edge.
You both fell limp like that. You panting, sticking to him with warmth he craved. Bucky draped his arm over your midsection and trailed his fingers over your side.
“Told you,” he breathed. “You get lost in it.” He tapped his fingers twice against you. “How do you think that goes with three vampires feeding from you?”
“Don’t want three,” you muttered without pause. “Just want you.”
Bucky lolled his head toward you and nuzzled the side of your head like he had any right to do that. In another life, maybe. Maybe he could’ve seen taking you as his. Really his. Would’ve killed thousands of men to come home to you. Would’ve made damn sure he’d made it home then.
Wishful thinking.
Wasn’t time to mourn.
“Sorry for making you break your streak.” Your arm fell over his. Fuck everything. You laced your fingers with his. Bucky couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. “You gonna kill me for that?”
“I should.” He shifted a little. Felt you clench around him when he did. “Should kill you to spare myself. Don’t feel like having to handle a bunch of yes men coming after me for vampirically deflowering you.”
“You think I’m gonna tell on you?”
“I kidnapped you. Tied you up. Threatened you. Bit you. Fucked you. You should. Any person in their right mind would.” Bucky felt your grasp only tighten. “Are you gonna tell your daddy’s men about me, Miss (Y/L/N)?”
You were quiet a moment, and Bucky weighed his options. He could kill you. Might have to if it really proved to be a problem, but he didn’t want to. Really didn’t want to. He liked this. Fuck, that was bad. He liked it. He liked you. He liked feeling you against him, and even worse, he was damn sure if he tried to recreate this with someone, it wouldn’t be this. It’d be what it was before. It’d be hard. It’d be the wrong kind of familiar. It’d be cold and disgusting and agonizing.
He heard your heartbeat. It gave you away. It was steady. Calm. Tired.
“No, Bucky, I won’t.” You tilted your head and brushed against his jaw. “The man who took me bagged my head and didn’t tell me his name.”
“And I can take your word on that?” he hummed.
"I lay here alive, Bucky. I took your word; you gave me that trust. I give you mine."
"I don't deserve it."
You shrugged. "World's more complicated than that. Daughters get taken for their dad's errors. You're a yes man who was told to rough me up, and we now lay here. So.”
“So.”
You squeezed his hand.
Bucky didn’t want to let go. He hadn’t felt like this in so goddamn long. But he had to.
“Well, you live for now. I got overzealous. Need to patch you up before that screws us over.” His hand left yours. He shifted, hoisted you off his cock with a gasp from you, and brought you onto your back. A bit of a mess, but you still looked up at him with a glint in your eyes and a smile under the lip bite. “Don’t move. I always have bandages in case I fuck up.”
“Is this a fuck up?” you asked.
Bucky strolled over to his bag.
“Don’t know yet.”
He hauled it over. Gave you the other half of the sandwich and the canteen, then helped you sit up against the wall. You ate and drank as he patched you up as gently and tenderly as he could. He didn’t want to hurt you further. Didn’t want to be what he used to be.
“Got a question, Mr. Barnes.”
A chill shot down his spine, but you were tipping the canteen toward his chest when he looked up. Fuck. Right.
“Why’d you tell me your real name?” you asked, taking another bite of the sandwich.
He bent over and patched up your thigh.
“Didn’t think you’d know it was my real name.”
“It’s a nice name.”
Bucky scoffed. “Thanks.”
You ate more. Sipped a little. Your heart started to beat a little faster, and Bucky almost cursed. What were you thinking? What were you going to do…?
“(Y/N).” You shifted back to get more comfortable. “My first name. Feels only fair.”
He flicked his eyes up to yours and gave you something that felt like half a smile and half a scowl.
“Telling me your name like we’re going to see each other again, (Y/N).”
Shouldn't have said it. Saw your pupils dilate a little more, and he damn well liked saying it. Felt right on his mouth. You felt fucking right on his mouth. Fucking…. He shouldn’t have fucking said it.
“Well, who knows who else my daddy’s gonna piss off in the future. Maybe we will see each other again.” You sucked in your cheeks and gave the sandwich a quick look. “My bedroom’s on the second floor. Got a stone balcony. Two glass doors that lead right inside.”
Bucky’s mouth twitched. He shouldn’t entertain it. At all.
But he found himself asking anyway.
“No guards stationed on it?”
You shook your head. “They aren’t allowed in or near my room. It’s my one safe haven.”
“Think that might change after this.”
You shrugged.
“If it doesn’t, well, it’s not too freezing out yet. Might sleep with the doors open the next few nights.”
He took your offer as true. Took your words as true, too. Maybe you weren’t trying to lure him into a trap. But it was one he couldn’t trust. And he’d been a fool when he was human. Snuck into enough bedrooms once upon a time to know the consequences.
He slid the bandages into his bag and smiled.
“Tell you what, (Y/N).”
You hummed.
“I’m heading out of town the next few nights. Got payment to get and more jobs to do.” You were already frowning, but not without understanding, it seemed. “But I’ll find you the next time I’m coming through.”
There was already a pinch in his chest at the thought of leaving you. Why? You were nobody to him. Nothing. Just another human that’d be lucky to grow old and die.
"Considering it's my only chance of seeing you again, okay." You cracked a bittersweet smile. "I'm aware I'm being a fool here, from start to finish. I know that, Bucky." Then, your eyes settled on him in a way that sent a warm shiver through him. "But there's something about you that's telling me you're not what you seem."
Didn’t mean that was a good thing. But Bucky felt it, too. And that damn well needed repeating. Didn’t mean it was a goddamn good thing. It was foolish and dangerous.
Yet Bucky offered. Yet you accepted.
“Go clean yourself up if you can stand. I’ll take you back at nightfall.”
You nodded. He helped you to the washroom and dressed himself. Tucked the key back into his pocket. Pulled out the cuffs and wrapped them in some backup gags. There was a loose piece of flooring he pulled up and gave way to a cavity of back-ups necessary. One was a chain and a lock. He pulled it out and hooked it up to where one of the ropes was on the wall.
You staggered out, half-dressed, blinking at the new setup.
“I need to rest, and I can’t have you doing something stupid during that. We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’ll get killed or taken before you make it to the main road.” He waved you over.
You gave him a pointed look but still put your hands behind your back.
He had a rolled-up mat pulled out and laid out on the floor by the wall.
“Would’ve used this earlier, but….” He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
You just took to your side. Without waiting to know if it was okay, Bucky took to laying next to you. A blanket was brought over the both of you–a scratched, thick thing–but you snuggled closer even when chained and cuffed. He kept the keys to the cuffs on the crate. Next to the key to the door.
He rolled and tucked his jacket under your head as a pillow.
“Goodnight, Bucky,” you muttered.
Probably didn't need the restraints. You hit that shitty mat, and were already out cold. The exhaustion hit and weighed you down like a sinking ship. Bucky tried to fight it, but he leaned in and kissed your forehead. Old habits. Muscle memories he couldn't fight.
“Night, (Y/N).”
Sleep came barreling toward him, too.
Took him in a chokehold and held him under.
He was screwed.
He liked you.
He’d fed from you and fucked you and slept next to you and liked it.
Fuck.
Bucky drifted off.
He was completely and totally fucked, and he had no idea what to do about it.
all I've ever known | john walker x fem ruska roma!reader
— one shot
cross posted on ao3
gif credit: @mrsducky
word count: 24K
summary:
“All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own
But now I wanna hold you
Now I wanna hold you, hold you close
I don’t wanna ever have to let you go”
-
For as long as you could remember you knew what pain was. After being sold off to the Ruska Roma you were quick to learn how the world truly worked. It wasn’t kind nor gentle. It was harsh and deadly. For as long as you could remember you knew what pain was…but when you entered that vault you learned that perhaps the pain you carried could be lifted with the help of those around you.
a/n:
This story took me weeks and I'm so happy with how it turned out (I’m horrid at summaries please give it a chance T_T)
I hope all of you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it
check ao3 to see more disclaimer tags
(hopefully I caught all the mistakes I might have typed...)
Disclaimer(s):
1) The reader is described as having a Romanian accent but that does NOT mean she is Romanian. She is left ambiguous for all readers' enjoyment but due to her upbringing in the world she picked up the accent.
2) I took inspiration from what we’ve been given in the John Wick movies regarding the Ruska Roma so it might not be fully true in regards to the real Ruska Roma people - this is in reference to the Slavic mythology elements added. From my research the real Ruska Roma people never practiced Slavic paganism, but because it’s a part of the John Wick Ruska Roma I ran with that
3) John is a yearner and no one can tell me otherwise
All your life you knew what pain was. What it felt like. What it did to others. What it did to you.
Pain…it seemed to follow you since you opened your eyes. Not the type of pain from falling on the ground and scraping ones’ knee, but a pain that was all consuming. The pain that rooted itself so deep within your chest you felt as though you could suffocate.
And with that pain followed the tears. Tears that stained your cheeks to the point the streaks almost embedded itself within your skin. The first time you experienced pain–deep, suffocating pain, was when you watched your mother slowly die from an illness unable to be treated. The tears that would shed the day she took her final breath didn’t stop falling until days later. That’s when the pain took root. Lodging itself inside your throat as it wrapped itself around your very core. Festering…waiting.
The second time you experienced pain was when your father sold you off. “T-Take her! She likes to dance. She’ll be perfect for the Ruska Roma! Just like her mother!”
It was a trade…his freedom for your imprisonment. You were only six-years-old when the pain grew to incase your lungs. Forever creating a heavy weight on your chest. The tears didn’t stop falling–even as you screamed for your father, clawed at the hands that snatched you. The tears kept falling. Blurring your vision and draining your energy to the point you fell limp in the car as it sped away from your home.
You grew comfortable in the pain. The hurt. The weight. After so many years of suffering at the hands of it you began to live aside it. Coming to the conclusion that you would never know life without it. So, the tears soon dried up and the cries fell silent. Leaving you now, a grown woman, with a stern face paired with tired eyes that swam with the pain you carried that were now staring at the dark ceiling of your apartment.
Even without looking at the bedside clock you knew no time had passed since the last you looked at it, but you did it anyway. 2:17am. You eyed the glowing red numbers with frustration–it had only been seven minutes since you last looked and you were utterly exhausted. You were always exhausted.
With a heavy sigh you rolled onto your side and grabbed your phone that laid on the floor next to your mattress. One of the few pieces of furniture that decorated your apartment. No bedframe. No side table. Just a lone mattress with one pillow pushed to the edge of the vacant room and a small dresser. No sign of personal touch. No sign of life.
Your eyes closed momentarily at the sudden light as you clicked on your contact. Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine. Your boss. Your benefactor. The one who shields you from the assassins out to get your bounty in exchange for your services.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Ballerina!” You weren’t surprised she was up so late into the night. “Give me another job.” The demand was quick and lacked any tone. You never cared to speak to the woman with any fear like many others. “Not even a please? Where are your manners?” She quipped. A pregnant pause followed as you kept your gaze on the ceiling.
The occasional car that would pass illuminated the room for a brief second every once and a while. Valentina clicked her tongue and you heard shuffling from the other end of the phone. “You're never any fun.” That’s when she began to explain your next assignment. Kill John Walker.
The failed Captain America who was publicly chastised for what he did to the surrendering terrorist. You knew of him and knew the weight of the shield’s symbol for the American people, but you never truly cared all that much to look into him. Only seeing brief news articles about his fall from grace between jobs from Valentina.
-
It was only a few hours after the call that you found yourself walking into the OXE vault in the middle of the Utah desert. The sheer change in temperature caused you to shiver as you stepped in, leaving the blistering heat outside as the door closed.
It was quiet, the only sound coming from your light steps as you moved deeper into the compound. Searching for the former Captain America. Despite the cold, stone floor and walls the place was cast in a warm yellow light. The lamps acted as a beacon, leading you to the main vault.
You couldn’t fight the sudden memory that pushed to the forefront of your mind. Thinking over the information Valentina provided on the super soldier caused it to resurface.
“Did you hear about that soldier that came out of the ice in the Americas?!” You eyed your overzealous fellow Kikimora-in-training, Oksana, who had just frantically ran over to your bed. Her smile was wide with enthusiasm. She always had a fascination with what went on in the Americas. From politics to celebrities–you suppose it was a way to distract her from your lived reality. “And this helps me break in these shoes…how?”
You softly waved the pointe shoe you held in emphasis. Your face set in an unamused expression. One everyone knew to be the only one you wore. Never smiling. Never laughing. Never crying. Stoic. Monotone. “Well because they are saying he’s the super soldier from alllllll those years ago who had some drug put into him and now he’s like superduper strong and can hear really well!” The small grunt you let out was all she needed to hear to plop down at the end of your bed and continue talking.
You turned the dimly lit corner and saw the main vault…as well as a multitude of different people. Two women, both in masks, fought while your own target charged at a woman with short, blonde hair. He was about to send his knife into her chest, but the woman combated his attack with electricity running up the gauntlets that sat on her wrists.
With no hesitation you raised your silenced gun and fired. But right as the bullet was supposed to enter his head he was pushed back, causing the bullet to simply graze his arm. He crumbled back with a hiss and the blonde quickly scurried away from him and towards her own target. “What the–” Was all he managed to get out before your body launched towards him.
Walker couldn’t fight the surprised grunt that left his mouth when you suddenly appeared on his chest. One of your hands clawed into his open wound before your other sent the butt of your gun into his nose. “FUCKING CHRIST.” You were about to turn the barrel to his head but his large hand grasped your ribcage and with a harsh shove you went flying into a nearby mental table, causing it to fly backwards and into a large pod that turned on.
The collision had you rolling to your side with a strained groan. Your head slightly spinning from the sheer force of the throw. It seemed as though you wouldn’t be able to get a moment to breathe due to the fact the two masked figures rushed towards you in your peripheral vision.
One with a mask that resembled a skull and another that had small glowing dots near the sides. Quickly, you rolled out of the way of the attack from the skull mask—unable to grab your gun in the process. Her short sword barely grazing the back of your combat gear as you did. She was about to launch another attack, but the second masked woman tackled her to the ground, allowing you to turn back to John Walker.
Who was now back to fighting the blonde woman. Before you could dwell too much on how strange this whole situation was, you swiftly unsheathed a knife from your thigh strap and ran towards Walker once more, turning his attention back to you. Which, in turn, allowed the blonde to chase after her own target…again.
The brief seconds of peace between fights allowed the two of you to take each other in. He was attractive. You thought. From the messy beard to the way he held himself. Broad, imposing, commanding. His suit echoing that of Captain America’s despite the muted tones of the fabric. Perhaps a conscious choice or simply from extended use. The shield he sported splashed with black and scratched from blocking attacks. Just as you examined him…he examined you.
You were attractive. He thought. The way your suit hugged your body to showcase the strength you harbored. The way bits of your hair flew around from all the commotion. The tattoos he could see peaking out from the collar of your suit. And the way you moved. Controlled. Precise. Beautiful. As if you were dancing rather than fighting.
And your eyes–even from the distance between the two he noted just how dark the bags underneath your eyes were. The skin sunken and eyelids heavy, telling him you spent many nights in bed wide awake. Exhausted…but never able to sleep. It was almost off-putting how sickly you looked, but the man found it entrancing.
Before either of you could do anything else a gunshot echoed through the vault, causing everyone to snap their head to the falling body. It was the masked woman who had gone after you. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. The gunshot seemed to cause everyone to freeze…no one daring to make the next move. Everyone holding their gun with firm grips. Then, dry-heaving began.
Everyone in the room turned to see a man crawl out from behind the many boxes. Clad in hospital garments. “Is she actually de–oh.” His words died out when he saw the guns pointed at him. Everyone stood tense and ready. The hospital man wasted no time in turning tail and running–only for all the entrances to the vault to smash shut.
-
“Who are you?” The now unmasked woman asked. Her long brown hair sticking to her tanned skin. “I’m–I’m Bob. I told you. I’m–” His hands were held up and slightly shaking as he looked between all of you. “Yeah. Bob.”
He finished with a nervous laugh. “Jesus Christ. Stop saying ‘Bob.’” Walker said with an agitated tone. “Who sent you, Bob?” The blonde woman asked with a thick Russian accent.
“Nobody. Why would I be sent?” You eyed Bob with curiosity. It was clear that he wasn’t like the rest of you. He wasn’t a hardened criminal or a killer; just a confused man. “Were you all–You were all sent?”
That tumbled the conversation along which caused the blonde woman to put the pieces together. You all worked for Valentina at some point and were sent to stop someone from stealing OXE assets. OXE secrets. A locked vault full of OXE secrets that included the very people that knew a bit too much about her dirty dealings. It made sense.
The masked woman thought so too. “Which makes up liabilities that no one would miss.” You had moved to grab your gun at that point and toed closer to Bob after finding it. Perhaps it was an unconscious part of your upbringing, protecting someone who needed it. Who deserved it. An innocent. “Speak for yourself.” The blonde continued to explain her reasoning to the man who cut in, but Walker spoke again. “Your theory’s flawed.”
You finally spoke for the first time. “Care to explain?” They all took note of the thick Romanian accent that held no type of cadence within the words. Your face unchanging from your seemingly always tired expression.
Walker couldn’t explain the slight falter he felt in his very being when you turned your full attention to him. Your almost lifeless eyes staring straight into his blue ones. Quickly, he cleared his throat and began. “Okay. Well, look at the facts.” He tore his eyes away from you and turned towards the other women.
“The infamous Ghost. A S.H.I.E.L.D reject on the run from 15 nations?” As he spoke he walked around the one named Ghost. “The dead one over there–” He began while pointing to the woman who had gotten shot. “–she destroyed half of Budapest.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.” The blonde was quick to follow his words. Making you believe they knew each other in some capacity. Walker didn’t care to stop as he made his way behind the blonde.
The whole time he walked, Bob stepped away and slid behind some boxes. You didn’t try to stop him. “You, former Red Room assassin.” Red Room. You remember the Director speaking about them from time to time. Another system of assassins with a mutual understanding between the two. Ruska Roma didn’t interfere with their operations and vice versa.
“God only knows the blood on your hands.” That’s when he finally turned to you. “And you…” Everyone stayed silent, waiting for the ex-Captain America to begin his run down on you, but he said nothing. Only looked at you for a few seconds like he was trying to decipher you. “You…” He tried again, but nothing came up. He didn’t know who you were. What you did. Couldn’t remember a single file with your face in it if he tried. And he would’ve remembered your face. “Who are you?” It was a genuine question. One that everyone in the room wanted answered. “Kikimora.” Was all you said because it was all you were.
Walker threw his free hand up with an overexaggerated groan. “What the hell is a Kikimora?!” Your eyebrow slightly raised as you stared at the man. Before you could answer, Ghost cut in. “What the hell is a Kikimora?” She lowered her voice and puffed her chest out with an exaggerated deep voice. Despite her shared confusion, Walker’s reaction gave her an opening to rile the former soldier up and it worked for the man was quick to turn towards her with furrowed brows. Seemingly forgetting about his question.
You shifted your attention away from them as they began to bicker. Your eyes trailing towards Bob to see how he was fairing before moving to the Widow. Her eyes bore into yours and you kept contact. She knew what you were…and she knew that you knew. The two of you didn’t break eye contact until Ghost threw her hands up and scoffed. “You know…this is all pretty ludicrous coming from the dime-store Captain America.”
You were quick to snap your eyes back to Walker right as his shoulders tensed. What you saw was small–barely noticeable to those not looking. But you saw it. The way his jaw clenched. The way his free hand flexed. The way his eye twitched.
Despite the way he leaned against a stack of crates you could see how the comment bugged him. “I’ll have you know I was actually the official Captain America, so…” He was quick to put his cocky act back up. The blonde snorted. “Yeah, for like, two seconds.”
“Before you publicly murdered an innocent man on the streets. Do I have that right?” Ghost said right after.
“Wasn’t it a terrorist?” You asked with genuine confusion.
You remembered the killing but didn’t remember it being an innocent man. Walker gestured his shield to you with a smug smile. Not taking his eyes off the two other women. “See? Not innocent.” They began to go back and forth, causing you to turn your attention to looking for Bob.
Throughout Walker’s spiel the man had moved away and now found himself behind a stack of cracks just high enough to hide his whole body from Walker, but because of your angle you still saw him. And when your eyes met he gave a small wave and a lopsided grin. A gesture you returned with a barely noticeable nod and vacant face. Despite your emotionless face, you felt a twist deep in your stomach at his smile. It reminded you so much of her.
“Clearly, I’m supposed to bring you in.” Walker’s statement was followed by an array of giggles, not only coming from the other women but also Bob. He had poked his body out while he spoke after turning his attention away from you. “It was getting so tense in here for a second.” Any other words that Bob would’ve said left his throat when Walker stared him down.
You watched as Walker stalked closer, causing you to slightly step towards the boxes. “I’m not leaving here without completing my mission.” Each step echoed throughout the vault as he got closer and closer. You could see how Bob curled in on himself as Walker neared him. “But this weirdo wasn’t part of the job, so I gotta know…how’d you get in?” He was about to step even closer to Bob, but a blade stopped him. “It’s pretty clear he doesn’t know what’s going on.”
The man felt the pressure of the knife press further into his skin. The subtle display of your hidden strength not lost on him. “And I was sent to kill you…so if you take one more step I’ll be completing my mission.” Your eyes narrowed as you stood firm in front of Bob. Even with a weapon to his heart and your cold, unforgiving gaze weighing him down he felt it…the falter.
The way his chest seemed to squeeze at the sound of your voice. Heavy with your accent that dripped across your words. The way his skin lit on fire from under your reserved presence. He wanted to challenge you. He wanted to question if you and Bob were a part of something together. He wanted to get that knife away from him…but he didn’t. He couldn’t. So instead, he stepped back.
-
Twenty seconds and Gho–Ava still hadn’t opened the door. 19. 18. Each second made the room hotter and hotter. Sixteen more seconds and you would be gone. You looked over at the rest in the room. Bob’s sweat covered face was painted in panic. “You think she’s coming back?” You watched as Yelena closed her eyes. As if she was accepting what was coming. As if she knew someone was on the other side waiting for her. “I should have seen this coming.” Walker whispered, causing you to move your gaze towards him.
And for those brief last few seconds you believed you saw a glimpse of John. Not Captain America. Not the U.S Agent. Not Walker. John. A man with a wife and child at home. 7. 6. “You did all you could.” Your lackluster tone didn’t deter Walker from snapping his eyes to yours. Despite being an asshole he was quick to jump to action when it was needed. Quick to assess what needs to be done. You suppose that came from his upbringing as a soldier. 5. 4.
John watched as you turned back to the un-opening door. Your face stuck in an unreadable expression. Even throughout the minutes where they frantically looked for a way out your face stayed the same while you worked. He started to think you didn’t even have emotions. You took a deep breath and, like Yelena, closed your eyes in preparation of what was to come. 3. 2. BUZZ.
Your eyes snapped open when you felt a hand engulf your own, but before you could process what was happening, Walker had begun to drag you out of the room. And when the explosion came, he caged you in with his shield against your back and your chest pressed against his.
The shield taking the brunt of the landing as you collided with the floor while his back took the sting of the heat. Your ears rang and your head pounded as you smashed into the ground. It took you a few seconds to gather your bearings as you attempted to look around…only to realize the arms that hugged your body.
In an instance you tensed under the non-threatening hold. “You okay?” Your body lit on fire from the way his words caressed down your neck. The way his beard tickled your skin. The way his body weighed you down in a way you never felt before. It was too much. Too unfamiliar.
He pulled back slightly to see your eyes wide—pupils dilated to the point the black engulfed the iris. For the first time since you came into that vault your face held emotion. It was strange seeing such a look across your face for it almost de-aged you. The expression causing the creases across your skin to disappear.
He could feel the way your heart began to smash against your chest and the way your breathing grew shaky. Almost like you weren’t used to being held…at least not for a good reason. Quickly, you shoved him off with a small curse and scrambled up. Immediately creating distance from him and going near Bob. “A-Are you okay?” He softly asked from behind you.
You simply grunted in response but didn’t step away from him. Not being able to stop yourself from watching Walker pull his helmet off, revealing his sandy blond hair that almost looked strawberry from the lighting.
-
After a small tussle between Bob and Walker, the blond man focused his attention into finding a way out. Which resulted in the five of you making your way into the elevator shaft. “So…none of us fly?” Yelena began as all of up stared up into the darkness that was above you. “What, do we all just punch and shoot?” Ava turned to you. “What about you?” She took your dead silence as a sign to continue. “You a witch or something? ‘Kikimora’ sounds magical.” The woman quoted Kikimora while Walker nodded.
A small hum passed his lips before he spoke. “The big three…yeah.” Yelena eyed him with her lips curled up in disgust. Her brows pulled together in disbelief. “What the hell is the ‘big three?’” Her tone was unamused. “Droids, aliens, and wizards.” Walker said with a matter of fact tone.
“But Ava said witch not wizard.” Bob cut in from next to you.
“A witch is just a girl wizard.” Walker snapped towards the man, causing him to recoil.
“I just punch and shoot.” You quickly cut in before anyone else could pounder of the label you gave yourself.
It was odd…the feeling that flickered in your chest as you watched the back and forth. It almost reminded you of when you were still in training. Quiet as you watched the girls talk and giggle almost content during that time in your life knowing you weren’t alone.
A beat passed before Walker stepped up. A wide smile graced his face as he glanced around the room. “Don’t worry. I got this.” You eyed the man before he suddenly leapt into the void…only for him to come crashing back down a few seconds later. The display caused Yelena to erupt in giggles, Bob to gasp in horror and you and Ava to stare blankly down at the man with no amusement in your features.
After Walker stood back up he and Ava started up again. Him making a comment on how she can only use her powers for less than a minute…which in turn caused the woman to snap at him. They continued to go back and forth until you spoke up. “We suck.” Was all you said while Yelena nodded in agreement. Then…Bob spoke. “I have an idea.”
The next thing you know you found yourself wedged between Ava and Walker’s arms while Bob’s back pushed into yours. The five of you creating a circle and using each other's backs as leverage to start shimming up the shaft with your legs. “Right.” Step. “Left.” Step. “Right.” Step. Walker began the directions like a military instructor the moment everyone got situated and had continued doing it until Yelena spoke. “Which one of you is wet?”
You grunted in agreement with her statement but already knew who it was. His back sweat soaking into your gear from behind. “I run hot. Sorry.” Bob said. “Your shield keeps hitting my shins.” You quickly said after it swung back into you. Walker clicked his tongue with a small twitch of his head. “It was either on my back or hanging by my belt.” You grumbled as Walker took his turn complaining. “Someone’s got a weird, hard butt.”
“That’s not my butt. It’s my suit.” Ava quickly responded. “Well, you need to get a new suit.” Yelena strained out with another step up the wall. With a small huff you hung your head back only to knock it into Bob’s. A shift sorry passed his lips, despite not being the one to do it, while Ava spoke again. “Pardon me for the inconvenience. I mean, I only spent my entire life in labs hooked up to machines so I could create this physical cage to keep my material body from disintegrating at all times. So, yeah, I’m so sorry about that.” A bitter laugh left Yelena’s throat.
“You do not want to start the whole sob story game. I win. Enslaved child assassin over here.” The feeling came over you again, the unspoken comfort of being surrounded by others like you, causing you to join in before you could even process what you were doing. The group seemingly already making you have loose lips regarding everything about you.
“At least your own father didn’t sell you to a crime syndicate to save his own skin.”
“Damn.”
Was all Ava said before Walker spoke. “Well, both of you were just kids, so…” Yelena was quick to cut him off. “Oh! So that’s a good thing now?” Right. Left. Higher and higher.
“I just think it might be nice to know that you didn’t really know any better.”
“It wasn’t nice.” You snapped back.
-
“You selfish prick.” Was the first thing out of Ava’s mouth as Walker helped pull her up. After almost falling to your deaths Walker managed to create a rope and began pulling everyone from the shaft. “Yet, you’re all safe.” Next came Yelena. “I made a tactical decision to secure my own safety and ensure all yours. Pretty ungrateful if you ask me.”
You had a hand secured on Bob’s hip as you helped him get closer to the edge. “You gonna make it, Bobby? I don’t think she can hold you much longer.” You quietly growled in agitation at how he spoke to the struggling man. “Come on, Bob. Almost there.” You said with what could be seen as a soft tone. Or at least a softer tone than your normal vacant words. “Looks like you might have missed arm, leg and chest day.” Then Bob grabbed his hand…and the room began to darken around your eyes.
“John?” Both you and Walker turned around and suddenly you were in a living room. “Are you watching him?” There in the room was…Walker, but it was a different Walker from the one next to you.
This Walker wore civilian clothes and sat next to a baby that bounced in a crib. An almost empty baby bottle close by. “What? I’m doing it. I’m watching him.” Walker stepped closer at the memory he saw. It was a few months after that day and he still found himself drowning in what the public said about him.
One rash act cost him everything good in his life. And now…in front of him was the downfall of his very marriage. Because of his obsession with what people said about him. Because of the nightmares about Lemar’s death. Because of the disconnect he felt with his wife.
You silently watched him. The way his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The man came to accept what happened–what he did. It had only been a matter of time before he and his wife separated…the people they were in high school were long gone and the adults they found themselves to be were different. He tried to hold on to her. Tried to love her like his high school self did, but it wasn’t enough. They both thought their son would change that. Make them love one another like before again, but it didn’t.
And when he lost everything it was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. He stayed silent as he watched the memory and you watched him. An almost melancholy look crossed his face as he reminisced about what he had. “Walker?” There it was again…your voice.
Just the simple call of his name broke through the memories overtaking him and he tore his attention away from the memory to where you stood in front of him. Only when he did, the room changed. “Papa! Papa, what’s happening!?” Suddenly a child’s voice cut through the air in a language Walker didn’t understand as the four walls fell down around you and him to reveal the setting sun across rolling hills.
He watched as your face twisted into one of pain before hardening once again. A split second. A small glimpse. Another brief moment of emotion that he clung to…and when he looked over your shoulder he knew why. “At least your own father didn’t sell you to a crime syndicate to save his own skin.” Your words echoed in his mind as he watched faceless men pull a little girl out of her house.
The memory was clear as day around the girl…but as it moved out towards the men and the father everything grew blurry and distorted. Almost like you couldn’t remember it fully. Only truly remembering yourself in that moment. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You were so young. “Don’t let them take me!” When Walker turned back to you, the room changed once more.
“Walker, grab her!” Yelena’s scream pulled him back into reality where he saw you hanging from the edge. The short sword you stole from the woman’s body was stabbed into the ground, giving you some type of leverage as you hung. Walker was quick to pull you up and when he did you saw how shaken it had made you.
Once again you pulled yourself away from his hold and this time you didn’t hover close to Bob. Didn’t hover near any of them. Your face emotionless once more. Only now Walker could see the slight shake of your shoulders.
-
You distanced yourself after that. Even as the group split up to deal with Valentina. Even as you fought alongside Walker. Even as Bob got taken. Even now…as what was left of the group walked through the desert. Walker at the forefront, Yelena close behind him with Ava next to her.
As for you…you lingered in the back. Throughout the journey, Ava would occasionally look over her shoulder to check on you. Only this time, when she did, she saw you standing still.
Eyes locked on the sky above. Silently, the woman got Yelena’s attention and subsequently Walker’s when he stopped hearing footsteps. They all watched as you just…stood. Yelena followed your eyes and realized just how beautiful the sky was.
The lack of light pollution around the area made the stardust that littered the sky to shine. The colors blended alongside the blackness of space, flowing together like watercolors while the stars shined. At the start of the trek you kept your head down, replaying the memory that was forced into the forefront of your mind by Bob. “Just like her mother!” Your chest seized up anytime you thought of her. It had been so long since she died you couldn’t even remember her face. Couldn’t remember her laugh or her smell.
You didn’t even have a picture of her…but you had the stars. “In Slavic mythology many believed that the stars were alive. That they were linked to our souls.” An older Kikimora once told you. That’s when your feet stopped moving and for your eyes to latch onto the sky. “So even when you lose someone just look up to the sky and know that one of the stars is them. Long after death the star will still shine.”
A hand softly brushed against your arm, causing you to jump back and pull a knife out. The way you leaped into a defensive position was so swift–so practiced…like it was second nature to be on your guard at all times. Yelena was quick to put her hands up and step away. “Easy.” The look she gave you was laced with understanding and pity. Being the only one to know what you actually were came with knowledge of what you did.
She knew it must weigh down on you like it does her…and she knew something happened in the vault when you and Walker touched Bob. Because it happened to her as well. Though she knew better than to bring it up, due to the fact even she didn’t want to talk about it. “You spaced out for a minute.” Her thick Russian accent didn’t hide the softness of her tone. Her words came out slow as if she was talking to a spooked animal.
“Do you need to take a break?” Slowly, you slid your knife back into your thigh holster and shook your head.
“I’m fine.”
Was all you said. Quick and cold–just like you always spoke, but it had an edge to it this time. The way you had to choke it out wasn’t lost on the group but even with how little they knew of you they knew best not to push. So…Yelena simply nodded her head and turned around to start walking again with Ava quick to follow.
Walker however, stayed still. His eyes not moving from your face as if he’d uncover all your secrets just by looking at you. All his life the man could read people. Pick up their tells. Figure out what made them twitch. But you? You were an enigma that was quickly consuming his very being.
-
“Those birds are way too high.” The sun had long since risen across the Utah desert and the four of you were still walking. “They’re doing recon loops at 4,000 feet. I mean, they don’t know what they’re doing.” You felt your eye begin to twitch at Walker’s continuing military talk.
You hated the heat. It made you more prone to agitation and with the blond man’s insistent need to showcase his military background it was starting to wear you down. “They’ll be five or ten clicks away in no time.” A frustrated groan tore from your throat as you threw your head back. “We get it. You were in the military.” You said while Ava giggled from beside you. “Honestly.” She began. “I mean…‘five or ten clicks to the bird.’ You can just say they’ll be gone soon.” Once more she mocked his voice and the man was about to start bickering with her, again, but Yelena quickly shushed them.
And that’s when they heard it, rumbling, like a car was close by. You dropped to the ground with the rest of the group and peered over the hill. The only thing visible was the dust that kicked up from the vehicle.
“It’s a…” Walker began.
“I don’t…” He kept trying. You shot him a look as he narrowed his eyes as if that would help him.
“What is that?” It didn’t.
Then the honking began. Frantic and loud as if the one behind the wheel simply smashed their hand against it with no regard for possibly drawing attention. “Ohhhhh, no.” Yelena drew out as she lowered her front half to the ground.
“It’s coming right at us.” Walker said.
“Who is that?” Ava asked.
“Is that a limo?” You questioned.
“It’s no one. It’s nothing.” Yelena covered her face with her hand at this point as she turned away from the car. You swore in Romanian before switching to English. “The honking is going to lead them right to us.” The limo screeched against the ground before a rather hefty man stumbled from the driver’s seat dressed in a red suit.
“YELENA!” He bellowed out in a thick Russian accent. He was frantically waving his arms above his head. “IT’S YOUR DAD! DON’T GO IN THE VAULT!” You and Ava both shared a rather confused look as the man continued to scream. “VALENTINA’S GONNA BURN YOU ALIVE!”
Next thing you know you’re sitting in the back of the limo next to Ava. While Walker sat at the very back and Yelena at the front. “Soooo, I finagled to pick up Miss de Fontaine at fancy event. I figure good networking, but as soon as I overhear the coordinates of the vault, I rush home, I get the tactical beast.” He said while pounding the limo. “And then, I drive straight here. America’s so big. You ever drive through Oklahoma? It’s so flat.”
Suddenly, he whipped his head around to look at you three in the back. “I forgot to tell you, don’t drink from the Big Gulp back there.”
You looked down…to see it right next to your foot, causing you to quickly kick it towards Walker. “Hey!” He shouted. “Don’t kick it near me.” He kicked it back. “Careful it might spill!” Ava cut in with a look of disgust as the bottle settled against a pile of trash near the corner of the car.
“Alexi, have you slept?” Yelena asked. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead!” The big Russian proclaimed, prompting Walker to speak up. “I’d like not to die today. So maybe somebody else should be driving.” Alexi eyed the blond man from his mirror with an amused expression. “Mr. Walker, second coming of Captain America. You and I have lot in common, you know?” You watched as Walker raised his eyebrows. “I too was state-sponsored super soldier in Russia.” You suppose that would explain the outfit then.
His statement caused Yelena to hum in disagreement. “But also very different because Walker actually knows what he’s doing.” Alexi paid no mind to his daughter for he was eyeing Ava in the mirror. “And Ghost. What a magician. You-You disappear. You reappear. When you reappear, does sometimes things not pop up in right place?”
“I find it best just to ignore him sometimes.” Yelena quickly cut in.
It was clear how short of an attention span the older man had because he already moved on to looking at you through the window. “And what about you, eh? Sick looking one. I don’t know you.” Yelena slapped her dad’s arm with a tsk while you simply eyed him with a deadpanned expression. Not answering.
Ava was quick to speak for you. “She doesn’t talk much, but she said she’s a Kikimora. Whatever that means.” The woman muttered out near the end. The man’s face lit up in the mirror. “KIKIMORA?” A wide smile overtook his face as the car slightly swerved, causing everyone inside to shout.
“I worked with Ruska Roma before. Great assassins. Strong. You must be strong too.” He chuckled out. “Your Director lady…what a woman.”
Yelena, once more, slapped his arm with a disgusted groan. Ava and Walkers’ eyes snapped towards you. It made sense, they suppose. But they still wanted to know more.
“We are not friends, Alexi.” Yelena quickly said before Ava spoke up. “Nah. We’re just disposable delinquents.”
“Whatever you are, the light inside you is brighter, Yelena.”
You felt your stomach twist at the sincerity of his words. It was clear he cared for his daughter and that made the pain carved into you hurt. “How about this? You are team of scrappy antiheroes.” Walker cut in. “Yeah. Go Thunderbolts.” That caused the man to perk up. “What?” He turned his head to the passenger seat. “Yelena…”
“Oh, my God.”
“You named them after your peewee soccer club?” The three of you in the back stayed silent while the father and daughter debated on who sponsored the team. You couldn’t see how this was of any importance, but if you jumped out like you wanted to you’d be back in the smoldering heat so that wasn’t a viable option. “Okay. What about this Bob you mentioned? What’s the plan? Where am I driving?” Finally, you spoke up.
“There is no plan. We need to escape and hide.” Walker hummed in agreement. “Yeah, way smarter for us to split up. There’s actually an airfield not far from here.” You weren’t surprised that the man knew that. From what you know about him he probably did a full recon mission before even stepping foot into that vault.
Alexi was disgruntled at what he was hearing. “Split up? No, no, no. You may not see what I see, but I have been around long time.”
“No shit.” Walker muttered with an eyeroll and for a brief moment you felt your lips twitch.
It was small…just a slight raise at the corner of your lips, but Walker saw and he felt his chest squeeze at the sight. “This has the makings of a team that can rise to glory. A team that can bring light from the darkness.” Ava couldn’t fight the assumed expression that overtook her face at the man’s ramblings. “A team of heroes that can be on the Wheaties box and have little kiddie toy–”
“No, no!” Once again, Yelena cut him off and they began going back and forth. You turned your gaze to the widow behind Walker and saw something that made your eyebrow twitch in confusion.
The small expression wasn’t lost on the blond, prompting him to turn around right as multiple armored trucks breached the hill. “You got a convoy approaching fast. Step on it.” The limo…barely moved, allowing the trucks to begin shooting at them. “Alexi!” Walker called out which, in turn, caused the older man to proclaim how the limo was bulletproof. “Engaging defensive measures.” Suddenly, smoke began to fill the back of the car with flashing lights above your heads–not to mention the song that played.
You kept your eyes on the trucks and saw the way the window was starting to crack. “WALKER, SHIELD!” You shouted and without a moment's hesitation, the man covered what he could as the glass shattered.
“What happened to ‘bulletproof’?!”
“Bulletproof my ass!”
You and Walker both shouted. The gunshots didn’t let up, causing Alexi to speak. “Time to break out the bottle service. Come on, Ghost, give me the good stuff.” Ghost eyed the bottle of vodka he pointed to as you pushed yourself in between Walker’s front and the side of the limo.
Quickly, you laid the rifle you took from a soldier’s body in the vault and started shooting any part of the trucks you could. The man continued to hold his shield against the exposed spot, but slightly shifted it to cover some part of your face in case a stray hit you. “Okay, not really appropriate.” The woman exclaimed, causing Alexi to shout. “Vodka! Vodka, now!” Next thing you knew a molatov cocktail exploded against the closest truck…only for it to do barely anything.
You slumped down in the seat with a curse while reloading the weapon. “I don’t have much ammo for this gun!” You shouted over the shots. “Okay…” Ava began between heavy breaths. “I’ll be back. I hope.” She finished as she covered her face with her helmet and phased through the back of the limo.
However, before she could do anything the same blasting sound that was in the vault hit her, causing her to stumble over. Without thinking, you shoved Walker’s shoulder and crawled out of the window with the rifle slung around your chest.
The wind whipped around your face and the sun blinded your eyes, but you still shoved Ava back into the car with the help of Walker. The man called your name the moment you didn’t follow. “GET BACK IN HERE!” You ignored his demand and frantically tore a grenade from the slash you had across your chest…another thing you had stolen.
The blond man was halfway out of the back at this point and clasped his hand against your shin to keep you steady as you bit the pin off. Yelena began to apply some form of cover fire from the front of the limo and right as you let the grenade fly a bullet grazed your arm, resulting in you tumbling to your knees. Walker took the opportunity to grasp your hips and yank your body through the opening. “She’s hit!” He screamed as he, once again, covered the window with his shield the moment the grenade hit the first truck.
Ava was quick to kneel beside you on the limo floor to check. “It’s barely a graze.” You hissed out while covering the wound that began to bleed. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. The brunette swiftly tore a part of her shirt and wrapped it around right as another explosion went off. “Did you throw two?” She yelled over the commotion. You simply shook your head with bared teeth as she tightened the wrap.
Alexi’s driving causing the two of you to sway back and forth in the process. Walker had pulled his shield away which, in turn, allowed everyone to see what was going on. From the dust of the second explosion was a man on a motorcycle. “It’s Bucky!” Walker shouted and when the name fell passed his mouth you felt burning anger.
Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. An operative that never respected the systems put into place within the High Table system. Ava saw the way your eyes seemed to darken at the name. You hated him.
-
You were deathly quiet next to Ava. After Bucky ‘saved’ them he didn’t hesitate to blow the limo up, causing the soldier to cuff you up and force you into an abandoned auto repair center. “Just when I get my team together. Mr. Soldier, you are making terrible mistake.” Bucky was perched against the large garage door without a care in the world.
You hated him.
“Save it for the committee."
You hated him.
Just his voice caused your ears to ring and your body to start shaking. It was barely noticeable, the tremors that clawed up your arms and shook your shoulders. You couldn’t pay attention to what the group was saying. “The Winter Soldier came.”
The memories flashed through your mind. A just turned sixteen-year-old girl stood over the body of her only friend. Now dead…her heart torn out.
You were pulled from the memory when Bucky walked closer to you in order to talk with Walker. “So cut the shit and listen to what we’re trying to tell you.” The blond’s voice cut through the haze in your head. “Yeah, I know you, John.” Bucky began. “And you made your choices. I know it’s been hard since Olivia left you and took you kid, but still, this is on you.” Your eyes snapped to the man and he slowly met your eyes and simply gave an accepting head tilt.
Like he knew he deserved to be spoken to like that. “You have no right.” The words tore from your throat as you slowly turned your gaze to his. Your lifeless, cold gaze. “Not all of us had the America's poster boy in their back pocket to give them a new life. So don’t stand there and judge him, and us, for what we had to do to survive.” The words dripped with venom. Your normal monotone voice laced with anger. With hate.
Bucky faltered for a moment at the mention of Steve before he narrowed his eyes. He said your full name with a low tone. “The Kikimora. Val’s favorite attack dog.” He began. “An assassin with, what, a $17 million bounty on your head after you brutally murdered a family on continental ground? ” You dropped your head with a growl. Your eyes slamming shut as their screams echoed in your mind.
The group watched the way your shoulders shook. Not fully understanding, but knowing it haunted you. “Yeah I know all about the Ruska Roma and all about your prison sentences.” He stalked around you as he continued. “You made your choice to break their rules and now you have to cower behind Valentina to keep bounty hunters off your back. What would your fellow Kikimoras think of what you did?”
In a split second you launched towards him with a shout–a borderline snarl, but the man was quick to push you back down with his metal arm. The action made you bite back a wince as pain shot through your grazed arm. “You talk to me like you haven’t done far worse. At least Kikimoras protect.” You sneered up towards him with a crazed look in your eyes.
“How many families have you brutally murdered, because you chose to do it?”
“You don’t know what you are claiming." He forced out.
The room was dead silent as the two of you stared at one another with unwavering gazes. “No matter what I’ve done in this life…it will never be as bad as you.” The Russian slid from your tongue with practiced ease. The tension was suffocating—no one dared to move or even breath. It was like watching two predators standing off…waiting for each other to pounce.
The sudden sound of Bucky's phone sliced through the air, causing Alexi to yelp in surprise. Just like that the tension eased as the man stepped away to answer. When he did a shaky breath clawed from your throat as you dropped your head. Your eyes staring down at the opening in the ground where workers would be when fixing a car.
A beat passed before you finally met Walker’s gaze. His bright blue eyes swam with confusion and…sadness. His eyebrows furrowed together while his mouth barely hung open like he was about to say something. But he didn’t, because Bucky began releasing everyone from their shackles. “What are you doing?” Ava asked when he took her special cuffs off. “I’m letting you go.” Next was you. “You’re coming with me.” Walker was next to be freed. “You know Valentina. She’s got this thing out there. People are gonna get hurt, and I gotta stop her. And you are going to help me.” Confused murmurs left the group at his proclamation as Yelena questioned him. “Wait. Us?”
“Why? You got some place to be?”
“You’ve got the wrong people.” Your voice was quiet now…hesitant as you slowly looked at him.
When he met your gaze it wasn’t like before; now both eyes were filled with the weight of their sins. “Look…” He started. “I’ve been where you are. You can run, but it doesn’t go away. Sooner or later it catches up to you, and when it does, it’s too late. So you can either do something about it now, or live with it forever.” A heavy sigh passed his lips. “And you’re right…” He gently said your name. “I did have help from Steve and now I’m offering to help you.” You dropped your eyes when you felt your face twist in emotion.
The anger you felt looking at him shimmered down, but it was still there. Lodged in your chest, clawing at your heart. The idea of working with him made bile rise into your throat, but the idea of atoning for your sins made it more bearable. So, when Yelena asked everyone if they were going to join, you agreed.
-
Using the knowledge Walker had of the airfield the group stole a rather small plane and began to fly towards New York. The first hour was quiet, aside from Alexi’s rambles from the co-pilot’s seat directed towards Bucky who was currently flying the plane.
Like before, in the vault shaft, you were smushed between Ava and Walker only, this time, instead of Bob behind you it was Yelena in front of you. The closeness felt…strange. Since the vault when Walker held you there was a deep need inside your chest that craved his touch. You couldn’t remember the last time something held you so softly and it caused a wave of emotions to flood within your soul. Emotions you buried deep inside many years ago.
So, when the man sat down beside you and his thigh pressed into yours…you didn’t try to shift away. “So…” Ava softly began. “Why didn’t you just say you were an assassin in the vault?” It was the question both her and Walker were dying to know. A heavy sigh passed your lips as you kept your gaze on your lap. “Because that isn’t only what Kikimora is.” Your words came out barely a whisper. It was so quiet…so soft that it caused Yelena’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Never had they heard such rawness in your voice before now.
Only small glimpses when you had spoken to Bob in the vault. “Then what is it?” Walker asked with genuine curiosity. “One of my teachers would say, ‘In Slavic mythology, Kikimora is a kind of spirit to those with darkness in their hearts.’” You started to explain. “‘She can be vengeful and destructive. But to the innocent she can be a protector. It is…two sides of the same coin.’ We kill, yes, but we do it to protect.”
A beat of silence passed and if you were more aware you would’ve noticed how Alexi had stopped talking. How everyone now hung on the words that came from your mouth. It was a rare moment where they saw something more from you and they didn’t know when they would see it again. “What Barnes had said was right…” You felt your words catch in your throat and you felt your chest squeeze as tears began to sting from the depths of your eyes.
Walker wanted to reach out to you. To wrap an arm around you and pull you close, but he couldn’t. So he settled with never taking his blue eyes off the side of your face. Every twitch of your brow and mouth was seen by him. “The other Kikimoras would’ve been disgusted with what I had done to get that bounty.” Ever so gently, Ava pressed her hand against your arm and yet you didn’t flinch away. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. But…now we have a chance to do some good.” Slowly, you looked up at the woman with heavy eyes…glossy eyes. “For Bob.” Yelena said, causing you to turn to her and nod stiffly. “For Bob.”
-
Bob was gone. Valentina got to him…changed him. He wasn’t Bob anymore…he was The Sentry. Walker stayed close to your side as you, and the rest of the Thunderbolts, walked out of the building in defeat. The man had seen the way you hunched yourself over in the elevator and clutched your side. Your breathing came out heavy as your eyes stayed trained on the ground.
Tears burned at the back of your eyes the moment the elevator closed. You failed him. You failed to protect him. He was good, innocent, and now Valentina twisted his mind. “Okay.” To no one’s surprise, Alexi was the first to speak. “We need new plan.” Ava handed Bucky his arm back before wordlessly throwing one of your arms over her shoulder to help ease the pain that blossomed through your ribs.
It was a small gesture that caused your chest to squeeze. It had been so long since people cared about you the way these ones did. “Nah, no new plans. That thing is just too powerful.” Walker responded while he tore his helmet off. Alexi shook his head in determination. “We just need to regroup and think. There’s got to be a way to stop that guy.” Alexi and Walker began to go back and forth in regards to what to do.
Alexi wanted to regroup…Walker wanted to retreat. The argument caused passing civilians to turn their heads, but the men kept going. “He turned my shield into a taco!” Walker shouted while holding said taco shield up. Alexi was about to shout back, but Yelena was quicker. “Oh, my God! Stop.” Everyone turned their heads to her. “There is no ‘us.’ There is no ‘we.’ Bob changed into that thing, and there’s nothing any of you can do about it.”
There is no ‘us?’ No ‘we?’
Her words made your stomach twist. You didn’t see it at first, but the more you spent time with those around you the more you realized just how badly you craved companionship. And Yelena’s words seemingly punched a hole through those very feelings. Was it really never something?
Almost as if Ava could sense your shift she spoke up. “And what did you do exactly? ‘Cause I seem to remember you getting your arse beat way worse than mine.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I suck. I’m terrible. We’re all terrible.” Yelena was quickly losing it as she gestured to all of you.
“Ava, you’re not a hero. You’re not even a good person.” The woman quickly dismissed her with a curse while Alexi turned her attention towards him. “Slow down. Um-nichka.” His voice was soft as he reached for his daughter, but she was quick to shove him away. “Alexi, I am not your um-nichka. I haven’t heard from you or seen you in a year.” You stayed quiet as you watched the woman unravel. “Okay, go easy on him.” Walker spoke up, resulting in her anger turning to him. “Oh! So you’re nice now?”
“Is it my turn?” The man simply asked.
“No, you know you’re a piece of trash Walker. So does your family.”
The way Walker didn’t even try to defend himself against her words caused you to snap at her. “Yelena!” You hissed. She whipped her head to you as you pulled yourself from Ava’s hold. “We are all upset about Bob, but don’t push us away because of it.”
A scoff ripped through the woman’s throat as she threw her head back. “You? Care?” She couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh that passed her lips. “You don’t care about Bob. You don’t care about any of us. We barely know anything about you because you refuse to talk and just have this vacant expression all the time. I mean, my God, do you even feel anything?” She waved her arms at you. “You’re just an empty shell of a person.”
Everyone watched as your face twisted. Your eyebrows pulling together and your lips turning down in a deep frown. Confusion and hurt swam within your eyes as you stepped back. “Fine.” You sneered out as your face hardened. “You want to do this? Then fine.” Quickly, you passed her with a harsh shoulder check and didn’t look back.
As you got further away that’s when you felt it…the pain. Not the pain from the ribs that were no doubt bruised, but the pain that followed you. Haunted you. The familiar feeling that you carried with you, only this time it reared its head high. It twisted deep inside you, clawing up your throat, forcing you to take short breaths.
The pain…it rang inside your ears, making the city nose blur around you. Tears burned the back of your eyes, causing you to shut them in an attempt to not allow them to fall. It consumed you. You could feel it in your chest, the way it felt as though someone carved out your heart. Leaving only an empty void.
Walker’s voice didn’t even register until his shieldless arm grasped your wrist. The soft call of your name caused you to snap your gaze to his. “Don’t go.” It was a whisper. A plea. The man didn’t find himself torn up about the split, but the thought of never seeing you again had him chasing after you. “I was foolish.” You spat out without turning towards him.
“I was foolish to think this was something.”
The Romanian words tumbled past your lips, causing Walker to knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Not understanding your language, but realizing it was the same one you spoke in the memory he saw. “I-I don’t understand.” He felt his heart drop when you turned around, revealing your teary eyes.
The sadness that filled your gaze caused your face to look even more lifeless. Dark and tired. He swore the bags that hung below your eyes darkened with the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m so lonely, John.” The words cracked as they left your mouth. “I’ve been lonely so long. So long.” With the flood of emotions your accent grew heavy and your native language mixed with your English. “I didn’t realize just how lonely I was till you.” Walker felt his heart jump. From the use of his first name to your confession. His heart jumped so far he felt it smash into his chest.
“Till all of you.” You quickly added while shaking your head. “But it was never something.” It was almost fascinating how quickly you were able to wall yourself up. One second your voice was filled to the brim with all the unspoken emotions you felt and the next it was hard. The man slowly moved his hold from your wrist to your hand. The sheer size of his allowed him to fully incase yours.
He felt his chest ache at what you must’ve been through to get like this. “We don’t need them all.” His words were hesitant as he began to bare his emotions to you just like you did to him. “It can just be us.” Your gaze snapped towards him once more and your eyes went wide. Tears finally dropping across your hollow cheeks. “Just us.” He said again as your mouth slightly opened and closed in an attempt to find words. Walker made you feel things you couldn’t understand…and it scared you. From the moment you saw him in that vault something shifted inside you.
“I wonder if I’ll ever get a love story like them.” Oksana sighed out from her bed right next to you. “I don’t see the point of reading such things.” You muttered out while laying in your own bed tending to the wounds that decorated your feet. “And besides…it’s not like they’d ever let us go.” The bitter words fell from your mouth as you shook your head. “So, it’s best not to fill your brain with those thoughts.” Oksana sprung up with a gasp. “Oh! But it is possible.” You simply eyed the girl.
“There are stories of the Baba Yaga! He got out and married so maybe we could too!” You shook your head once more before turning towards her. “The stories also said he had to do an impossible task to get out.” The words were sharp. A tone Oksana knew well as an indicator you were done with the topic, causing her to fall back against her bed with a huff. “It would still be nice, though. Falling for someone to the point you could feel it in your very chest. A deep rooted desire to stay close to them. To seek them in a crowd. To only want to hear their voice. Like…just one look and you know that they are the person for you.”
The memory caused a gasp to rip through your throat as you pulled your hand from Walker’s hold as if he burned you. It’s not possible. You couldn’t. You were going to rebuttal, to push him away…anything, but the sudden mummers that filled the crowd pulled your attention away from him.
When you looked around you saw the mass amount of people looking towards the sky, causing you to follow their gaze. That’s when you saw it. A figure in the sky–devoid of any color. Not just black…vacant. A Void. A Void staring down at the people with two glowing eyes. “Bob?” You whispered.
Suddenly, the helicopters that were in the sky came crashing to the construction cranes. As if those inside simply vanished. The collision caused a ripple effect that resulted in the crane falling into multiple buildings. With one simple look both you and Walker jumped into action when a large piece of building smashed into the ground, falling straight towards a woman who couldn't get up.
You bit back the yell that wanted to escape when you pushed your bad side into the debris to aid Walker. It did little to no effect, for the super soldier was straining to keep the weight up. Then…Ava came. The shift in weight was a relief as she pushed herself against the building part right next to you. Alexi came next, then Yelena…and with the final push from Bucky you all were able to push the debris to the ground.
The sudden change of weight allowed you to hunch forward with a groan. Your hand immediately going to your side. In between your heavy breathes claps filled your ears and that’s when you realized the people of New York were watching. “Mom?” You turned your head to the side and saw a little girl…and the falling building crashing towards her. Alexi saw it as well because in the blink of an eye he used his body to shield the girl.
Only for her to disappear as if she was a shadow on the ground. Screams filled the air as the thing descended from the sky.
“You all know the truth.” It sounded like Bob, but it wasn’t. It was deeper. Empty. His once light tone was replaced by a bone-chilling voice. Running was no use. “You can’t outrun the emptiness.” The shadows of those gone began to merge together, effectively consuming everything in its path.
“I think Bob’s darkside got superpowers. Get everybody off the street.” Everyone was quick to comply with Walker’s order…everyone but you and Yelena. The darkness swept over the ground as if the sun was getting covered, but you and Yelena kept getting closer. It was a wordless understanding between the two of you. The desire to protect Bob drove your actions. The light he brought was something worth fighting for.
Both of you ignored the way Alexi and Walker called out. “It’s what you said. We’re all alone.” You saw his eyes turn to you. “All of us.” With a deep breath, Yelena stepped in. Her shadow getting consumed by the rest of the darkness that was rapidly approaching your own feet. Alexi’s sudden screams echoed in your ears, but you kept looking at the Void. “You can’t save him.” Him. Bob.
You failed to save the one person in your life that brought light…but now, maybe, you could save him. Yelena must’ve stepped in for a reason. So, you followed suit. Not knowing the way Walker shouted when you got consumed.
-
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
You stood quietly in the middle of the theater as you watched your younger self. Just moments before you were swallowed by the Void and now you found yourself here. It felt disorientating, being in the Void. It was as if you were underwater in a way. Floating. The pain in your side seemingly vanishing as if it didn’t want you distracted from what you would see.
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
You realized years later that it was a test. A test to see if you could keep going even after failing…after enduring so much pain. You kept spinning even as your toenails broke and your skin tore. Even as your ballet slippers dripped in blood and the floor grew slippery.
“Jesus.” Walker’s voice caused you to whip your head around with a gasp. “John.” You didn’t understand how he was here. You went into the Void before him. Soft sniffles flooded through the room, causing the woman watching to speak up in a raspy Russian voice. “Crybaby! Enough with the tears!”
He didn’t take his eyes off of the scene as he stepped closer. “How old were you?” The man was by your side now as he watched the scene replay once more. “Ten.” You slowly said while moving your gaze back to the stage. “I couldn’t walk for a few days after this.”
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
As if the scene in front of you was on a loop it kept repeating the same thing. Going from you falling into a bloody pool to you walking out on stage at the start of the performance. For the first time since the man found his way into your memories he turned to you at his side. “And she chastised you for crying?” His eyebrows were pulled together in genuine confusion. He couldn’t possibly fathom why someone would do this to someone else that was so young.
With a simple shrug of your shoulders you responded. “They called me that for years until I toughed up. ‘Kikimora do not cry’ they would say. They’d punish me anytime I broke. Thrown into a dark room or beaten—really whatever my teacher felt like doing that day.” You spoke about what you went through as if it was no big deal and realization flooded over him. That’s why you acted the way you did.
“You’re just an empty shell of a person.” Yelena’s words rang in his ears and he felt himself ball his fist up.
Pirouette. Fall. “Again.”
With a small twitch of your head to the stage you continued speaking. “This was a test to see if we could keep going even after failing. To see how much pain we could endure before we broke.” The man swallowed thickly before letting out a shallow breath. “You were so young.” You were so young. It hit you like a ton of bricks, causing you to drop your head.
You remember him mentioning it in the vault, but now, here, you finally took it in. “Well…I didn’t know any better.” You echoed his words with a steady tone. “I–” He began with a choke. “I didn’t think it was like this.” Walker knew the horrors of the world from his tours in Afghanistan, but it was different when it came to you. It hit him harder.
“Lemar! Watch out!” Just like before, in the vault, the scene changed. The theater crumbled down, revealing a battle torn desert. The sudden change caused the two of you to squint your eyes to combat the shining sun that burned down on the soldiers.
It was another Walker memory, you realized. Perhaps the first time in the vault caused your memories to be blended together even now, due to Bob touching both of you at the start.
You watched as a barely thirty-year-old Walker launched himself at his fellow soldier to shield him from an oncoming blast. It was scorching hot with dust and gravel being kicked up every second from the constant assault.
You could hardly see or hear anything from how chaotic it was. “One of your tours?” Was all you said, making the man nod silently. The shrapnel from the blast tore through his side, causing him to stumble over with a cry. His hold on his fellow soldier not wavering. “Lemar!” The man’s words were laced with pure terror as he checked the soldier’s pulse.
You watched as his shoulder’s slightly relaxed, telling you the man was only knocked out. A string of curses left his mouth as he tore his radio from his hip. “Raynor, I need some cover. It’s Lemar.” You quietly stepped closer to the memory as he yelled out his coordinates. “I got a medal of honor for this.” Walker’s words didn’t hold its usual cocky tone.
He wasn’t boasting about what he did, but speaking as if the memory hurt him. “I thought I lost him.” Memory Walker strained himself to hurl Lemar over his shoulders before beginning his run towards his backlines. The sudden amount of gunfire from there telling him he got the cover he asked for.
You turned your attention back towards Walker as a sad laugh left him. “I got three badges of excellence to make sure I never forget the worst days of my life.”
“You did all this just for your government to throw you to the side after one mistake?” Your words seemed to trigger a new memory, because all of a sudden the two of you found yourself in a warehouse with Walker crying over Lemar’s body.
It was a feeling you knew too well, losing someone so close to you. You saw the way his eyes flashed with pain as he was forced to relive the worst moment of his life. Not even a touch could comfort him as the scene played out in quick succession.
And it was as if the memories were sped up because the next thing you knew you were watching him behead the terrorist then found yourself in a courtroom. There stood a war hardened Walker, dressed in his formal attire decorated with all the medals he was awarded during his years. You remembered this from the news. It was his trial for the killing of the terrorist in public.
“John F. Walker, it is the order of this council that you are no longer to act in any capacity as a representative of the United States government or its military.”
You couldn’t hold back the scoff that ripped through your throat as you watched the memory of Walker process the information with a pained expression. Even with how little you knew of the trial you still remember thinking how unfair it had been. “You didn’t deserve it, you know." Walker tensed up beside you, about to get defensive, thinking you were talking about the title, but you finished. “What they did to you.”
Suddenly, all the weight he had in his shoulders left, causing them to drop. You didn’t move your gaze from the memory as you curled your lip up in disgust. “You did your job and they cast you aside for it.” You knew you didn’t fully understand the complex government system, but you knew that it was wrong.
Slowly, you looked at the man to see his eyes already on you. The blue growing glossy from the words you spoke. For years he lived with the shame of what he did and now, for you to reassure him…it carved itself deep in his chest. You couldn’t fight the way your eyebrows curled up in pity. Couldn’t fight the way your eyes turned down in sadness.
“I lost someone too.” You softly began as you brushed your hand against his arm. “And I wish, everyday, that I could avenge her like you did for Lemar.” Walker was about to say something, but a sudden deep voice spoke in Russian.
“The Winter Soldier came.”
Once more the room morphed. The courtroom vanished into smoke only to be replaced by a cold examination room. You and Walker both turned your attention to the side where you saw the memory. There stood a younger version of you standing besides a corpse. Your eyes widened as a strained sob suddenly tore through your throat while you stumbled to the table.
“Oksana.” It was hardly a whisper that came from your mouth as you collapsed to your knees. Walker hesitantly stepped closer, the sudden display of emotion told him she was someone you cared for.
The memory version of you gazed down at the dead body with a vacant face. No tears, just a blank expression. The deep bags you sported were the same, but your cheeks were more full. Though…he knew this was the moment that would change. This was the moment that turned you into the version he now knew.
Despite the expression he could tell you were still so young. Barely even seventeen he’d assume. An old man came out from the shadows clothed in doctor attire and a clipboard. “It was a quick death.” He didn’t know Russian so he had to rely on your body cues for context, but that was no use because you never moved. “Oh…Oksana.” The English from present you pulled his attention to where you were on the ground.
During his assessment of the room you had taken the corpse’s hand and curled it into your cheek. “She was my Lemar.” You sobbed out and that’s when the full force of the connection hit him. Slowly, the man placed his free hand on your shoulder as your tears fell across the cold skin. “Bucky did this.” The softness of your voice was suddenly replaced with a dark sneer at his name. “He-He tore her heart out. Like she was nothing.” When your eyes turned to him a subconscious part of himself wanted to step back.
The once soft eyes you showed him in the courtroom darkened to the point you were someone else. Something else. “That’s why I’d never judge you for what you did.” You turned your attention back to Oksana and cupped her frozen cheek. “Because…if I had my way I would’ve done something far worse to him than a beheading.” Suddenly, the sound of punching filled the air, causing both of you to turn towards the sound. And right as you did a metal hand smashed through the wall.
Even with the large cloud of dust that puffed up you knew who the arm belonged too and you felt your body tense up. “Strong punch!” Alexi’s voice boomed from the shadows as Ava stepped into the light, followed by Bucky and Alexi. Wordlessly, Walker shielded yourself from their eyes, knowing your display of emotions might not be something you’d want them to see.
“Is it just you, Walker?” Bucky asked. They all looked around the room.
“What is this place?” Ava asked to no one in particular.
“Her grave.” Your voice sliced through the air and seemingly froze everything from how cold it was.
Slowly, you raised from the ground and stalked around the blond super soldier. The three took in your appearance; disheveled hair and tear stains running down your sunken cheeks. And your eyes…borderline crazed as they bore into Bucky’s. “I doubt you even remember her, huh?” The man in question knitted his eyebrows together and took a step forward. That’s when he saw Oksana’s corpse and the memory flooded back to him, immediately causing the scene to change. He remembered all of them.
You tore your eyes away from him when you heard her strangled scream. There…only a few steps away from you was Oksana gasping in the iron grip of the Winter Soldier. She tried to fight back, tried to use what the Ruska Roma taught her, but she was never the best fighter. That’s why her first job was supposed to be something simple—an escort for a politician. No one knew that same politician was a target of the Winter Soldier.
Walker watched as you tensed beside him. Your eyes fluttered in disbelief. Your fingers twitched to save her. Your shoulders shook with anger. But you were rooted to the ground–unable to move.
Oksana clawed at his metal arm with so much force her nails began to tear from the beds, but it was no use. Even her attempts to regain her footing was to no avail due to the Winter Soldier raising her higher in the air. That’s when it happened. The sound of the Winter Soldier’s arm thrusting through her chest echoed through the memory. Your eyes glazed over as the sounds of him tearing it out hit your ears.
Bucky softly said your name. “Look…that-that wasn’t me.” He winced at the sound of his words. He knew it sounded as if he wasn’t taking responsibility for his actions, but it really wasn’t him.
Your eyes snapped on him and it went silent. That was until the memory replayed and the sound of her heart getting taken rattled in your head again, causing guttural scream tore from your throat. One second you were next to Walker and the next you pounced on the soldier. Bucky was smashed into the ground and before he could register even connecting to the floor, your fist was already colliding with his nose. And you just kept hitting.
Even after the man blocked your hand with his metal arm you continued. Even after you felt the bones in your hand shatter from the impact. Even after you felt the hands of those around you encase your body.
You saw red. He took everything from you. You needed to make him pay. Walker, Ava, and Alexi watched in horror as your body began to be consumed by darkness. It started at the tips of your feet before quickly consuming your legs. They tried to pull you off, but it was as if the darkness kept you locked on Bucky.
Bucky’s nose broke open and he began to cough up blood from the constant assault to his face. The darkness covered your chest now, but you kept swinging.
Even as your hands grew bloody and Bucky struggled to breath. Even as bones began to cut through your skin.
You kept hitting. Your voice grew raw from the screams you let out. Your curses flooding out in different languages every few seconds. The darkness enclosed your neck now, but you were so far gone you couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The three trying to tear you off all screamed at each other as your face began to get coated with blood.
Your glazed over, crazed eyes not tearing from Bucky’s panicked ones. He knew he’d recover thanks to the serum coursing through his veins, but the trauma you were placing on yourself worried him. Then…the darkness took over your eyes, causing you to snap away from Bucky with a gasp. And then, in a blink of an eye you were gone.
-
The first thing that hit you was the music. It was your mother’s favorite piece to dance to. Even after so many years without her, the song would make you remember dancing in the field with it playing on a phonograph she brought with her. “Pafa, wafs hafening!?” That’s when reality hit you, causing your breathing to come out short.
Despite the way it felt as though you were in a sea of confusion you knew, deep down where you were.
Your head spun and your eyes felt unfocused as you rolled to sit up. The action caused a sharp cry to leave your throat when you put too much pressure on your injured hand. You were quick to pull the hand close to your chest. “Pafa, wafs hafening!?” There it was again, the voice.
Small and muffled, struggling to get full words out thanks to the gag that covered her mouth. With a few more blinks you felt your eyesight get steady, allowing you to take in your surroundings and that’s when you realized where you were. You felt your stomach drop at the familiar room even from the corner you found yourself shoved into.
“Papa…is getting what he deserves.”
Ever so slowly, you looked over your shoulder to see the memory that haunted you every day, resulting in a sob to bubble into your throat.
Your father…tied to a chair with a multitude of cuts running across his body. You had beaten him so bad his teeth were scattered across the floor and he slowly choked up blood every second. His eyes swollen so much you didn’t think he could even see at that point but you still continued your assault on his body. All while his new wife and daughter watched from the side with gagged mouths. The fabric soaked with tears and snot. Their screams doing nothing over the music you had playing to drown it out.
The man weakly said your name with a hung head. “Please…please don’t hurt them.” You remembered just how angry you felt at that moment. So many years of burying your emotions boiled over when you finally found out he had a new family.
The pain from being sold off. The anguish of all you lost. It consumed you to the point you began to stalk the man. You didn’t try to hide yourself either…you wanted him to know you were alive. Knew you were hunting him. You wanted him to feel just a sliver of what you felt all those years.
He had thought he’d be safe if he hid in one of the Continental hotels. He knew the rules and he believed you wouldn’t break them. He was wrong.
The knife you held dripped with blood as you slowly walked towards the little girl, resulting in the mother wailing under her gag. The little girl flinched away from your bloody hand as you caressed her cheek. Your crazed eyes burning into her fearful ones. “You know…I was about your age when Papa sold me off.” A fake hum of sadness left your throat as you leaned closer. “He’s a very, very bad man and bad men need to be punished.”
A wicked smile graced your lips, making the blood that sprinkled across your face to drip onto your teeth. “But…I won’t hurt you. No.” You knew what was coming. From the corner of the room you frantically stumbled up to try and reach the memory, but it was as if something was blocking you from it.
You felt your stomach twist and bile rise in your throat as the shimmer of the knife caught the light. And then the tears came, the first that slid down your cheek was the only indication you got that you were crying again. “No.” You croaked out. Blood. All that came next was blood.
The wails that followed from both mother and father would haunt you as memory you stepped back, revealing the little girl’s open throat. Blood coating every inch of your face from how close you were.
You lost track of how many times the memory replayed because now you curled up against the corner you woke up in with your hands over your ears. But it was no use–their screams, their pleas, the cries…they didn’t deafen. So, you screamed along with them. Tears blurred your vision as your throat tore from the screeches you let out.
You could barely breathe because your chest was seized up to the point it began to hurt. But, you deserved it. You deserved to be doomed to repeat this memory for the rest of your life.
The hands against your ears began to claw into the sides of your head. Your nails breaking the skin above the ears, resulting in blood dripping down your neck. You deserved this.
When the Thunderbolts finally located you with Bob’s help, what they found…shook them to their core. On one side of the room was the memory of you, covered in the little girl’s blood. Eyes wild and hair disheveled. Your outfit dripping with the blood that soaked into the floor at your feet.
The father–beaten, barely alive. The mother–wailing from her chair as she watched her daughter bleed out. Then the memory replayed. “Bob, don’t look.” Yelena quickly said, wanting to shield the man from the horrors of the room. And on the other side was the present you, slumped against the wall with an empty face. Far more empty than they had ever seen you.
At this point you pulled parts of your gear off, revealing the tattoos that littered your skin. Your hair was matted with the blood that came from your self-inflicted wounds and a puddle of puke was nearby. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The words cracked through the air as you muttered the apology over and over again in your native tongue.
Bob didn’t listen to Yelena and slowly walked over to you. His eyes welling up with tears at the state you were in. It was clear to everyone in the room just how much you regretted what you did. They all regretted what they did…just like you.
He softly said your name but there was no reaction. It wasn’t until his clammy hand brushed against your bare shoulder, causing your eyes to snap to him. “Bob?” Your bloodshot eyes slightly widened as if you couldn’t believe the man was there. “We came to get you.” We?
Slowly, you looked over his shoulder to see everyone. Alexi, Bucky, Ava, Yelena…and John. Another wave of tears flooded from your eyes and you frantically began shaking your head. “No. No! You shouldn’t be here! You shouldn’t see this!” You had to force the English out due to how sore your throat was.
The thought of all of them–of John–seeing what you did made your stomach turn. Once more, your breathing picked up and your hands flew to start digging in the skin above your ears again, but Bob was quick to engulf you in a hug. Everyone held their breath in preparation for what you would do to him, but…you just gasped.
-
The room went silent as the memory of yours faded away, revealing Bob’s room. The music stopped. The screams stopped. Everything stopped. Even the shouting from Bob’s father seemed to almost muffle.
You stayed rigid for a moment before you quickly wrapped your arms around the man with a small sob. Bob he didn’t even wince at the way your nails clawed into his back. Your eyes were snapped shut as a shaky exhale left you, silent tears still falling from your cheeks–an action that allowed your shoulders to drop. “You should’ve left me there.” You whispered. The desire to cry once more stung your chest as you fought to keep the sobs back. “I deserved to stay there.”
Everyone was silent before Walker stepped closer. His blue eyes locked onto your glassy ones with a sad expression as he looked down at you. “No one deserves to be stuck in their worst moments.” The way he said your name caused a whimper to bubble into your throat. It was so gentle. So comforting. “Especially not you.”
Sensing your sudden movement in his arms, Bob pulled back and the moment he did you launched into Walker’s arms. The man caught you with a small huff and wrapped his unshielded arm around your waist. The feeling you felt the first time he held you in the vault flooded through you.
But this time…you didn’t push him away.
“Thank you.” You muttered against his ear. The breath that wrapped around his skin caused goosebumps to run down his arms. Slowly, you pulled away. Your hands almost struggled to let go of him from the way they ran down his arms as you turned to the rest. “All of you…thank you.” Yelena sent an understanding smile your way while Ava nodded, a small smirk graced her lips as she did. Alexi puffed his chest out. “We are Thunderbolts! We stick together…like great team!” He bellowed out. And Bucky, beaten and bruised, kept his eyes down.
Walker took a deep breath and spoke. “Okay. How do we get out of here?” Everyone turned to Bob who was now standing close to you. “I mean, as far as I know, it’s just endless rooms.”
“I think…” You began. “I think we need to find your worst room, Bob.” The man dropped his eyes with a shaky breath. “The root, yes?” You asked those around you, desperately trying to explain your reasoning. Yelena quickly nodded, understanding what you were getting at.
-
“Where do you think you’re going, Robert?” You didn’t hold back the punch that was sent straight into the father’s face. The action caused the room to begin to crumble, forcing everyone to run through a closet and into another room…which happened to be Bob’s summer job.
Dressed in a chicken outfit, the memory Bob began to use the sign he held as a weapon. Swinging at anyone who got too close. “I was on meth!” You heard Bob frantically shout after Alexi was smacked away from him.
The chicken was racing right towards Bob, but before you could intercept to aid him, Bucky punched the chicken right in the face. It caused you to falter in your step, but before you could linger on the thought you felt Walker’s hand pull you through another door.
It was a medical room and at the very end was Bob, hunched over on the examination table. His first two victims shadowed against the wall. “I’ve been here before.” Yelena said. “This is where it started.” Bob began as he slowly stepped closer to the scene.
“I was roaming around Southeast Asia, thought I’d figure something out, or at least find more drugs. Then there was this guy, started talking to me about a medical study. A trail drug that could make me stronger. Felt like a miracle.”
As he walked, so did all of you. “I’d finally get to show everyone that I was more. That I was…something.”
“And look what you unleashed.”
The voice chilled the room as it rose from the table.
“The most shameful thing of all was thinking you could be anything more than nothing.”
Yelena stepped forward. “We’re leaving.” It was unnerving the way the thing gazed at you. It’s small, glowing eyes being the only sort of light from the body. “No.” That’s when the room began to turn against you. Both you and Yelena were wrapped together against the wall with Alexi close. Bucky was pulled against shelving after the lights wrapped around him. A sharp piece of metal stabbed into Walker’s shoulder while Ava was pulled to the wall.
You groaned as the table enclosed around you and Yelena. “Stop.” Bob began to plead. “Just…let them go.”
“Wait. You think they care about you? You don’t matter. To anyone.”
Your stomach dropped at the words, causing you to shout. “Bob, that’s not true!” Suddenly, you felt the cord of an I.V drip tighten around your throat, forcing your head back. “Yelena, tell him!”
You wheezed out, but before she could the I.V extended across her throat. Walker shouted out your name while Alexi bellowed. “Don’t hurt them.” Bob said, resulting in it to laugh. “Robert, the hero.” He said, echoing the father. Everyone braced as glass cut through their skin. “I’m stronger than you.”
“Let’s see.”
That’s when they began to fight…and that’s when the darkness began to consume Bob. You saw it first. “BOB!” You shouted. You knew what that meant for you, but for Bob…that would mean the Void would win. That Bob would be gone. “Yelena!” You forced your eyes to her and that’s when she saw the pure terror that filled your gaze. “We can’t let it get him!” That’s when she heard the emotion in your voice. Fear. Anguish. Care.
With a quick nod the two of you began to push against your constraints. Even when you were free the room tried to stop the two of you, but you kept running. Kept running until you were able to wrap your arms around the man that was close to gone.
And…just like what Bob did for you, everyone did for him. Everyone’s arms pulling him from his darkest moment and into the light.
-
Once again you laid in your bed with open eyes…only this time you weren’t in your lonely apartment. You were in the Watchtower as a part of the ‘New Avengers.’ It had only been a few days since Valentina introduced you and the rest of the Thunderbolts to the public and everything in your life changed.
The change was so fast that it scared you. The closeness of living with multiple people again, the noise that came from it…the fact they knew what you did. What you were. It scared you so bad you kept to your room. Not eating. Not sleeping. Just…laying. Eyes glued to the ceiling as you replayed what happened in the Void.
The memories ripped open wounds that had long since scarred, causing feelings you buried deep to come to the surface. The fear, the sadness, the pain. They saw you crying. They saw you killing. They saw all the worst of you and it made you sick. After so many years of keeping everything in, of not showing emotion, knowing that they saw you in such states paralyzed you.
“Crybaby! Enough with the tears!” The memories kept you wide awake as if they just happened to you. Constantly replaying in your mind with no rest. It felt as though you reverted back to the six-year-old version of your…frozen in your bed. Unable to move.
The abandonment of your father still fresh in your young mind, causing you to fall into a state of despair. The pain eating you from the inside out, making it hard to breathe. To think. To feel. The faint throbbing of your wrapped hand being the only thing that broke through the daze you found yourself in–Valentina had made sure to get it treated right away.
Walker was the first to show up at your door. A plate of food in hand. “I-I didn’t know what you would like so I just made some spaghetti.” You didn’t answer. Didn’t move–even as the man sighed and placed the food next to your door you stayed still. He would come back to see it cold and untouched.
“The Winter Soldier came.” Minutes turned to hours and yet you couldn’t move. Even as the sun set and the moon rose you stayed still, staring at the ceiling. Hours turned to days and you began to feel the effects of no food or water. And yet you still couldn’t move. Oksana was there for you when you first came to the Ruska Roma…first experience the flood of emotions that left you vacant and frozen.
The bright-eyed eight-year-old stayed close to your bed even in your unmovable state. Wiping your tears away. Forcing food down your mouth. Dripping water into your throat. You remembered how she would read to you, but she wasn’t here now. Wasn’t here to aid you.
Yelena was the next to appear at your door. “Look…” Your name came out with a sad sigh. “What I said that day, I didn’t mean it.”
“You’re just an empty shell of a person.” You started to think she was right.
“I was upset and lashed out.” You didn’t answer. Even if you wanted to, the dryness of your throat grew painful with each breath. It was as if your body kicked into survival mode one night, resulting in you slumping towards your bathroom sink and swallowing copious amounts of tap water. However, the sudden amount you consumed forced its way back up, causing you to hunch over your bathroom mat and puke it up.
Everything in your body screamed in agony, forcing your body weight to crumble into the pile of water. You didn’t even try to get back to the bed. It had been almost a week since you first closed your door and you felt your body start to shut down. The water and bile long since dried up, but your clothes stayed damp. Brief moments of pure exhaustion forced you to sleep, but it was quickly interrupted by the nightmares.
“Pafa, wafs hafening!?” The screams. The cries. The blood. Every time you closed your eyes you saw them. Sometimes you wished you were killed, because if you were you wouldn’t be haunted by them. But…perhaps this was your punishment. Those outside your door may have pulled you from the Void, but it felt as though you never left.
Ava came to the door next. The call of your name was slightly muffled due to the distance from your bathroom to your bedroom door. “We are all getting pretty worried here. Walker is pacing like a caged bull and Bob is hardly eating. We’ve had to hold Alexi back from breaking your door down.”
There was a slight flicker in your chest at the mention of the concern those outside held for you. But…you still couldn’t find the will to stand from the bathroom floor. So, you stayed curled in on yourself to combat the hunger pains that plagued your stomach. You didn’t answer.
“Don’t let them take me!” You didn’t know when you started crying…perhaps you had been all along. That’s how Alexi found you, on your bathroom floor. Hair matted from no shower. Pants soiled from not being able to get to the toilet. Mouth dried with bile you had forced up but couldn’t clean. Tears silently streaming down your face, wetting the side of your head.
It had been almost two weeks and the worry about your state of being boiled to a head which caused the older Russian to bust the door down. “GET DOCTOR! QUICKLY!” Your mind was a blur as the man hauled you into his arms. The sudden action rattled your brain to the point black dots filled your vision. Then you passed out.
-
The steady beeps of the heart monitor stirred you awake. Your head swam as you struggled to get your bearings–not fully understanding where you were. You remembered the Void and the sudden new team. You remembered closing and locking your door and falling into your bed…and then nothing.
It was as if there was a gap in your memory, making it hard to distinguish anything. You knew something happened though–you could feel it in the way your body felt. In the way your head pounded and the way your throat scratched with each breath.
In between the beeps you heard a small voice, causing you to slowly open your eyes. It was hard at first, trying to get your sight steady due to the low lighting that filled the room, but as you did you saw someone next to your bed with a book in hand. Your heart rate spiked. Was it really her?
“Oksana?”
You croaked out before a series of coughs flooded past your lips. The person snapped their head towards you and stumbled up. Book clattering against the floor as they muttered your name. No…it wasn’t Oksana. That wasn’t her voice.
Slowly, your vision cleared and that’s when Bob’s worried gaze came into view. His dark blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. He softly called your name through and it pierced through your hazy state. “It-It’s Bob.” He muttered while getting close. A cup of water in hand. “Here. You need water.”
The man was careful not to touch you in fear he would send you back to the Void. So, he kept his hold at the bottom of the cup. “Slowly.” He reminded when he saw the way you began to greedily consume it. You pulled away with a heavy sigh and leaned back before looking around the room and that’s when you saw him.
At the very corner of the medical room lay John Walker who was sprawled out on the small couch. His large frame draped over the cushions in a manner that was definitely uncomfortable. Even from a distance you could see the way his hair was messy from how many times he ran his fingers through it.
The slight bump of your heart rate picked up on the machine, causing Bob to explain. “He hasn’t left the room since Alexi found you.” The man sat back in his chair after picking the book up and continued. “Do…Do you remember what happened?” He spoke with hesitation, afraid that something might set you off. But, you simply stared at him with the same tired expression he came to know. Only this time it was much worse. Your skin lacked any glow and your eyes sunk.
So long without food caused your cheeks to hollow out even more than they originally were. It was as if he was looking at a skeleton. You were quiet for a few seconds as you tried to remember, but you couldn’t. “I shut down…didn’t I?” You whispered the question while dropping your eyes.
Bob wrung his hands together, fighting the urge to reach out and hold yours in order to comfort you. “The doctors said you hadn’t eaten for weeks and were severely dehydrated.” Bob understood. He was probably the only one that truly understood what you went through. A low. A low…so low that you couldn’t care for yourself. “It only happened to me once before.” You said as you played with the blanket that covered your legs. That’s when you saw the doodles that decorated the cast that healed your wounded hand.
Then, the reasoning for why you fell so deep in despair hit you, causing your heart rate to pick up. The sudden increase in beeps caused Walker to wake up and when he saw you awake he tumbled from the couch with a call of your name.
It had no impact on the way you began to panic. They saw you break. Ruska Roma never liked when you broke. They were mad…they had to be. Ruska Roma always got mad. “Crybaby! Enough with the tears!” The beeps increased tenfold, resulting in Bob to shoot up and Walker to race to your bed.
His calls of your name still not break through your panic. Valentina must know what happened. She’ll punish you. They always punished you. However, before you could spiral, sudden hands grasping your cheeks pulled you into reality. And that’s when your eyes connected with the wide blue ones.
Finally, the call of your name registered in your head as Walker held you. “It’s okay.” He whispered. “You won’t get punished.” Any tension in your body you held washed away at the words. The man knew from the shame rooms what you experienced so he knew why you began to panic the way you did just now.
One of your hands flew to cover his as you pushed your cheek further into his hold. Desperate for his touch. His warmth. It was as if he grounded you in a way you never felt before. It was like how you felt with Oksana, but…different.
Ever so slowly your heart rate came down, allowing the two men to relax, knowing you weren’t in distress anymore. Walker wanted to ask a million questions about your health, but from the look in your eyes he knew it was too much. So, he settled for pulling a chair so close to the bed he was almost in it.
Unbeknownst to you, when you woke up the rest of the team got a notification, resulting in all of them rushing to the medical wing. You only had a few short minutes of silence with the two men before you heard the familiar voices through the halls.
Alexi was the first to barrel through the door and when he saw you awake a heavy sigh left his chest. “You worried us!” He shouted, causing Yelena to smack him in the arm as she passed. “Dad, quiet down.” The Russian woman made her way next to Bob and smiled at you. “Good to see you awake, Kikimora.”
“You all had us rightly worried.” Ava’s accent flowed through the air as she phased into being close to Walker. Her hand reaching out to touch your knee as she looked at you. “Hope you like the artwork.” She said while glancing at the cast with a smirk.
Your eyes slowly skimmed across them and you knew you wore a face of confusion. They were worried? “Don’t look so surprised!” Alexi roared from the foot of the bed, ignoring the look from his daughter, as he continued. “You are Thunderbolt! You are apart of team!” You wanted to turn off the heart rate monitor for the way it kept showing the spikes from the words. Even after all you did? After all they saw? They still wanted you to be a part of the team?
The older man beamed with joy at the reaction. A small shift at the doorway pulled your attention away from the Russian and when you glanced up you immediately grew tense. His face was almost healed from what you did in the vault and it made the anger you felt grow in your chest.
He lingered near the doorway and almost looked…worried, but you were too consumed by what he did to realize it. Your heart rate spiked as the memories came back, causing Walker to quickly stand up and usher Bucky out. “I just wanted to check on her.” He said in a soft voice that surprised the blond super soldier. He wanted to explain to you everything. To make amends. “Just…” Walker began. “Just give her a few weeks to get back on her feet and then you can talk with her.” Bucky simply nodded with a huff and began walking away. Shoulders low as the weight of what he did to you grew heavy.
When Walker came back into the room everyone was pointing out what doodles they did on your cast. The man stilled in the doorway for a second to take you in. There you were–surrounded by the team with an almost peaceful look on your face. Despite how sick you looked he had never seen your eyes so full of light.
-
The weeks that followed began to suffocate you. Every meal Walker would be close by just…watching to make sure you ate everything. Every time you closed your door you could feel the way Ava lingered close by as if you’d break down the moment you were alone. Even Alexi seemed to walk on eggshells around you when you got the cast taken off. Constantly rushing to pick something up for you and carry it as if you weren’t able to do it yourself.
It made you feel weak. And that, in turn, made you grow angry.
The shift was noticeable to everyone–the way you snapped at Walker or eyed Bob with disdain. In the back of your mind you knew it was because they cared about you, but…after so many years of being on your own it overwhelmed you. The urge to push them away, to make them hate you festered in your chest. It was always easier when you had no one. Having no one meant not having to suffer loss again.
You only found peace in the early hours of the morning when no one was awake as you made your way to the dance studio that Valentina installed just for you. Any time you could you would dance. It started as a way to bond with your mother, but when the men came it became a chore–a training exercise. Something stripped of all its original meaning.
But, you still did it because it was all you knew how to do. There would be brief moments in between the dances where the feeling it once gave you sparked alive. A simple note in the song or the way you effortlessly performed a move made you remember how you really did want to be a ballerina when you were a child. Now, you used it as a way to strengthen your body.
Those weeks of no food and barely any water dramatically decreased your weight and muscle mass–something you needed to get back. The feeling would creep up still…the joy. The serenity. As you began your dance in the studio you began to think if you would ever, truly, enjoy it again.
The moves you started to perform were so second nature to you that you allowed yourself to close your eyes and listen to the music. You were so consumed in your own thoughts that you didn’t realize the figure that stood in the doorway. Walker was a light sleeper–a habit he had to pick up in the military–so, when he heard the music sweep through the tower he knew it was you. He didn’t hesitate to get up and find you, desperate to understand what was going through your head.
That’s when he saw you in a state he had never seen you in before. Eyes shut, completely separated from the world as you moved to the music with ease. He knew you were a dancer from your build and the way it shone through when you fought, but seeing you just dance was entrancing.
The simple ballerina clothes clung to your muscles as sweat began to build across your body. The leggings showcasing the muscle you still had as the tiny skirt fluttered across your hips with each turn. Then, when you turned your back towards him at the end of the dance, that's when he finally saw your tattoos in full due to the low cut tank top that hugged your body.
In dark, bold letters across your shoulder blades read MORS VINCIT OMNIA. Death always wins. Below the words was a large, beautifully detailed cross with an angel spreading its wings across. And right on top of the angel’s face…was the cross of Saint Peter burned into your skin. A brand. A message.
Before he could fully take in the rest of the tattoos that wrapped along your arms and up your neck you spoke. “What do you want, Walker?” You hadn’t spoken to the man with the same softness in your voice like you did all those weeks ago. “I–” He cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “I heard the music and wanted to mak–” You were quick to cut him off…not even sparing him a glance over your shoulder.
“I’m fine.”
A deep part of you screamed to go to him–to have him hold you. The desire to be in his arms again followed you every waking moment like a shadow. But, instead you pushed him away. Terrified that he’d one day see you the way you saw yourself. He was a good man…you didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve his worry or care.
“Well you don’t seem fine!” He suddenly shouted, causing you to whip your body around and pause the music that played from your phone. That’s when you realized he was wearing nothing but a tight white shirt and grey sweatpants that hung on his hips. His hair unruly and eyes tired.
He looked cozy…homely. “Ever since you got off bedrest you have treated us all like shit! This isn’t you.” The pain in your chest sunk deep in your chest at his words, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. The emotions you felt being overshadowed by anger. “How do you know what’s me and what isn’t!” Your sudden raised voice startled the man, but he still didn’t back down.
“Because I can never take my fucking eyes off you! Ever since that vault I have been consumed by you.” You suddenly felt your chest tighten at the confession. “I’ve been so damn intrigued by you from the moment you fucking shot me. The way I couldn’t get a read on you pissed me off so bad, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then…in the Void, when I saw what you've been through I finally understood why you are the way that you are. It felt as though I truly saw you. And what you are showing us now ain’t it.”
Everything Walker had been trying to bury deep came flooding out and he couldn’t stop it. You frantically shook your head–desperate to shake the feelings that crawled up your throat. “All the Void showed you is how much of a monster I truly am!”
You shouted back as tears burned the depths of your eyes. “WHO WOULDN’T BE AFTER EVERYTHING YOU WENT THROUGH?!” Walker’s eyes were wide with an unspoken emotion that swam deep within the blue of his irises as his chest rose up and down with heavy breaths.
He tried to step closer to you, but you were quick to shove him away. “THAT’S NO EXCUSE. I’M A BAD PERSON." Your accent grew heavy with the words you yelled towards the man. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall as you choked down a sob, forcing your eyes down to hide the shine.
You hated how easy it was to show your emotions around not only him, but the rest of the team. Walker, once more, stepped closer to you. “We are all bad people.” He said, causing you to quickly shake your head–your gaze still stuck on the ground. “You aren’t a bad person.” Your tone of voice suddenly grew quiet as you sighed the words out. “You’re a good man, John. A good man who did some bad things.” It was as if your body deflated with how your shoulders dropped so suddenly.
Slowly, Walker reached his hand out and took hold of your own, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Still…you kept your eyes glued to the ground in fear that if you raised them you’d spill everything harbored in your heart. “Your father sold you when you were only six-years-old.” His voice grew quiet as he spoke. “You were forced to do unimaginable things when you were just a child. Punished for showing emotions. Forced to dance till your feet bled.” You didn’t hold back the sob that tore past your lips when his hand moved to cup your cheek, guiding your eyes to meet his.
That’s when you noticed the gloss across his gaze and the way his brows furrowed almost as if he was in pain. “You don’t know me.” You whispered. “Then show me who you are. Show us.”
You snapped your eyes shut and tried to drop your head into the warmth of the soldier's hand as he muttered the plea out. “You confuse me…John.” The confession tickled against his lips as he leaned closer, causing heat to rush to your cheeks.
The deep-rooted desire to be close to each other pulled the two of you closer without realizing. “All of you confuse me. It feels like how I felt with Oksana, but with you it’s different.” Your foreheads were touching at this point and Walker could feel the way your heart smashed against your chest.
It was the same speed his heart moved…almost as if they were beating in sync. The man seemingly whimpered out your name as your noses brushed together–breaths intertwining across your mouths that slowly inched closer. Both of Walker’s hands now cupped your face as your own hands bunched his shirt up from your hold after caressing his chest, forcing a shaky breath to leave the man’s mouth.
His beard brushed against your cheeks, resulting in them to light on fire even more. “What was all that screaming abo–oh shit.” In the blink of an eye you shoved Walker away with frantic breaths. There, in the doorway, stood a sleepy-eyed Yelena with a hand over her mouth. Her eyes moved between you–who was rushing to gather your things on the floor and Walker–who stood stunned with his eyes never leaving yours. Even as you scurried past him and Yelena he stayed still with the lingering heat of your lips almost touching.
-
The process of accepting those around you into your life was a slow and tedious one. But…you wanted to try. It started off small–you going to each member, mindful to avoid Bucky, and apologize to them for how you had acted the past couple days. You had expected them to brush you off or curse you out, but none did.
Bob gave you a wide smile and simply shook his head, saying there was no need for apologies. Ava slightly pushed your arm with a smirk and shrugged it off with no words. Her actions clearly told you she didn’t hold it against you. Alexi engulfed you in a bear hug and shouted how teammates may often fight but forgive each other at the end of the day. He couldn’t see it but a ghost of a smile had graced your lips when he pulled you in.
When you went to Yelena you found yourself hesitating. Not only from her words before the Void, but also the fact she saw you and Walker in such an intimate state. You lingered at her door with shaky breaths for a few seconds before you knocked. “Yelena?” A faint rustling sound came from the other side of the door before it opened, revealing the very blonde you were here to speak with.
It was odd how you almost felt unease under her gaze and it must’ve been shining through on your face due to her question. “Everything okay?” She asked with genuine concern and the way you furrowed your brows, desperate to hide the emotions you felt. “I wanted to apologize to you for how I acted these last few days.” Yelena’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and her silence made your thoughts turn dark.
You were about to turn on your heel and hide yourself in your room, but her soft accent cut through the voices in your head. “Come in.” Now, you sat stiff at the edge of her bed as you glanced around her room. Like you, the woman had little to no decorations across the walls. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.” Yelena began to say. The woman sat next to you and grabbed your hand. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Bob, because I think you need to hear it as much as he did. You can’t hold it in all alone. No one can. We have to let it out. We have to spend time together. And even if it doesn’t make the emptiness go away, I promise you it will feel lighter.” A shaky breath left your mouth as you squeezed her hand–your chest suddenly feeling tight as your throat struggled to hold back sobs.
So many years of pushing your emotions down, hiding them away, did damage you couldn’t see and the woman’s words seemingly tore open the wounds you carried. You always thought you were destined to have the same fate as Oksana–laying cold on an examination table ready to be burned. Forgotten. Alone. But, since the vault you saw a future you never envisioned for yourself…a future filled with friendship you craved so deeply since the loss of Oksana.
You tried pushing them away, not believing such things, but all their words–their forgiveness–made you think that, perhaps, you could get that future. “I’m scared.” You quietly confessed with a lowered head.
Your brows furrowed together as your mouth turned down in a deep form. “I know.” It was all Yelena said as she slowly wrapped her arms around your shoulders, because just like you, she never saw this future. Never saw getting past her sister’s death and finding people that made her feel like she made her feel. But now, like you, she began to think that the future she imagined was possible due to the people around her.
-
A few days had passed since your slow acceptance of them into your life and you found yourself sitting next to Yelena while Bob scurried around the kitchen trying to make breakfast. After that day you felt a change inside you…the pain that was once so deeply rooted within you began to wither.
It was small at first, the way the weight lifted only slightly, but it lifted. You started to get one more hour of sleep than usual and ate one more meal than normal. Your body mass started to come back and your once sickly skin began to glow. Your cheeks slightly filled out as the bags lightened, but the trauma was still carved into your skin.
The bags would never truly fade under your eyes and the sleep would never be peaceful, but it would get easier. And for the first time–in a long time–you felt content as you watched the man fumble over ingredients in the kitchen. All while choosing to ignore the glances Yelena sent your way as she smirked.
It had almost been a week since she caught you with Walker and it was abundantly clear to everyone that something shifted between you and him. Neither you nor him brought it up, but the way he lingered so close to you and kept his eyes on you told everyone something changed.
Even as he kept leaving with Bucky to do something he always found his way back to you. “So…what was going on with you and Walker?” Yelena suddenly said, causing you to snap your eyes on her. The moment Walker left to talk with Bucky she was already hounding you with a teasing tone. A cheeky smile was pulled at her lips as she wiggled her eyebrows and leaned forward. You simply grumbled and took a sip of your coffee–not dignifying her with a response as you looked back at Bob, causing the woman to laugh.
Bob turned around with an arched eyebrow. “What happened with them?” He innocently asked. “Oh? You didn’t hear?” Ava suddenly appeared next to you and Yelena, causing you both to jump in your seats. “They almost kissed.” She finished as she sat down next to you. “Yelena!” You quickly hissed towards the Russian who simply shrugged her shoulders. “You told her?”
Ava was quick to jump in with a shake of her head. “No, I heard Walker muttering to himself about it from his room.” A beat of silence followed before she spoke again. “Then Yelena told me.” You swatted at the Russian with a small frown which resulted in her to laugh more.
“Oh, please! It’s so obvious how you feel about each other. I mean the man literally has to force his eyes off you.” Warmth exploded across your cheeks as you looked down at your drink. “Plus he follows you around like a lost puppy.” Ava added with a light chuckle.
“I-I don’t know what I feel. All I know is that I feel something good with him.” You suddenly whispered out.
Even though it was easier, talking to them about your feelings, you still struggled from time to time to force the words out. It was a slow process and no one dared to push you so anytime you showed a bit of yourself they all focused on your words, but there was still a disconnect.
“Y-You don’t have to label it.” Bob said from across the corner. Ava nodded along with his statement and spoke up. “It’s not like we are saying you are in love with the guy, but it’s pretty clear something is there.” Yelena slightly pointed at the burning food behind Bob–which caused him to jump into action–before she spoke again.
The burning smell quickly filled the room, but no one cared to comment on it. “Look…” She started with a small sigh and grabbed your hand. You never pushed her touch away–oddly feeling grounded from the warmth she brought. “All jokes aside, it's nice to see you like you are with him.”
Heat rose to your cheeks and a small, barely audible laugh left your mouth, causing those around you to smile. “Alright!” Bob suddenly said with an excited tone. “Breakfast is served!” No one moved when the plates of burned egg and toast were placed in front of them.
The eggs that were supposed to be yellow and white were now a deep shade of brown and blended well with the dark brown toast that it sat next to. “Oh!” Yelena forced out with a taunt smile. Her natural tone of voice an octave higher, telling you she was holding back what she really thought.
As you looked down at the food you felt a feeling stir deep in your chest–one you hadn’t felt in a long time. It coiled behind your ribs as your shoulders started to shake. “This looks like arse.” Ava suddenly said. You pulled your lips tight as you began to remember your mother and her awful cooking.
You remembered how she never knew how to cook due to growing up in the Ruska Roma so the only time she did the food came out charred and inedible. Yelena tried to save Bob the embarrassment and quickly showed a piece of egg into her mouth…only for her face to twist into disgust. She spat the food out with a groan and frantically downed the water she had close by.
The action caused Ava to start laughing with Yelena not far behind her. Bob, now realizing they weren’t upset with him, followed suit with giggles of his own. “I guess I should leave the cooking to Walker, huh?” He said with a bright smile. Then you remembered the sounds of Oksana’s laughs. They way she’d fall into your side with snorts and frantically hit your arm as she struggled to breath.
Suddenly, the feeling that you felt with them made sense…they were your home. Just like your mother once was. Just like Oksana became. That caused the sounds you tried so hard to hold back to tear through your chest and with one large inhale a bellowing laugh left your lips.
You threw your head back as your hand snapped to your chest–the constricting feeling in your chest not coming from hurt or pain, but from an overwhelming sense of happiness. Everyone in the room went silent as the new sound bounced from wall to wall, immediately lighting the room up.
That sound is what brought Walker to the kitchen. The man had promised Bucky that when the time was right he would get you to read the files they had spent a day or two collecting. He knew the man not being able to make amends was eating him alive so after their work together the man went in search of you.
So, when he heard the laughter from the kitchen he assumed you were with everyone in there and when he turned the corner he felt himself stagger at the sight of you. There you were, sitting in between Yelena and Ava–head flung back with your eyes scrunched up from the wide smile that graced your lips.
The sun shining through the windows in such a way it made you glow like a divine being, the way it illuminated your hair and bounced off your cheeks. Walker lost all connection to religion for his years overseas, but looking at you now he could fall to his knees at your feet in prayer.
The sheer amount of joy that radiated off of you was infectious, forcing a small smile to twitch at the man’s mouth. He knew he should’ve continued his way towards you…but he didn’t know if he’d ever see you in this way again. Almost as if the string that seemed to thread between you and him tightened it made your head loom to the side to catch his eyes. He felt his breath catch in his throat as everything seemed to slow down while you caught his gaze.
It wasn’t like when he first saw you in the vault–wasn’t cold and harsh, staring so deep he felt as if he was dunked in ice water. Now…now it was as if the very sun exploded in his chest. The warmth that filled his veins as your soft eyes took him in almost burned from how intense it felt.
You looked at him like you saw him…truly saw him. Your mouth twisted in a smile that was so bright–so joyful. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
But then, Bucky joined his side and any warmth you held vanished. In the blink of an eye your smile dropped and your shoulders tensed. The sudden halt of your laughter caused those around you to look and that’s when they saw Bucky standing stiff next to Walker.
The blond cleared his throat and stepped forward with a soft call of your name. “Bucky and I need to talk with you about something.” Your face was set back in the vacant expression he never wanted to see again as you pushed your chair out. You didn’t even spare the men a glance as your rushed passed Walker, causing him to follow after you.
Even as he called your name you kept going until his hand wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. He called your name again, but you were quick to pull your hand from his.
Any joy you had felt was snuffed out by the anger that now lit your veins on fire. “I don’t want to talk with him.” You sneered out while entering your room with Walker hot on your heels. “Look, it’s important that you hear what he has to say.” Quickly, you spun on your heels and stared the man down. “Oh, it’s important?” You mocked. “You know what he did. You saw it!” You hissed.
“What could possibly be the excuse for that?” Walker simply stayed quiet as he walked closer to you and ever so gently, the man clasped your clenched fists. His blue eyes looking deep into yours with understanding. “All I’m asking is that you read the files we have. It will explain everything.”
You stayed silent as your breathing slowly evened out, but Walker could still see how tense your shoulders were. Anytime Bucky was near it was as if you were put on guard, and he knew it was for a good reason. In your eyes he killed the only good thing you had in your life, but he needed you to know the truth. Needed to show you Bucky Barnes and not the Winter Soldier.
“Do you trust me?” The soft question sliced through the silence that filled the room, causing you to snap your gaze to his. Your breath caught in your throat, due to the response that immediately entered your mind. Yes.
-
Bucky sat across from you and Walker in the living room as your expressionless face glanced over his files. HYDRA. Arnim Zora. Brainwashed. He was brainwashed. He didn’t have a choice.
“How many families have you brutally murdered, because you chose to do it?”
What you said when you first met him flashed through your mind, causing you to slap the files down on the table with a shaky exhale. Both men were dead silent as they watched you take everything in. “So…” You began after clearing your throat. “You really had no control over yourself?” Bucky slowly nodded his head. “And when–when you kille…” Your words trailed off as your face pulled into one of sadness before settling back into the emotionless look.
Slowly, Walker placed his hand on your thigh and his warmth seeped into your skin–immediately calming you down. “When you killed Oksana…it wasn’t Bucky?” You had to force the question out from your tight throat.
The man in question nodded again silently. Almost as if he was scared to speak. “But if it wasn’t you how could you have remembered her?” Bucky stayed quiet for a few more seconds as he wracked his brain trying to come up with the words.
“When I was…him…it felt like I was floating inside my body. I was aware of those around me, but there was this…disconnect. I couldn’t control myself–it was like someone else was in the driver’s seat while I was strapped in the back.” The man wrung his hands together as he sighed.
“I never–I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to become that.” You felt a spark of pity flicker in your chest at his words because, like him, you never wanted this as your life. The weight of Walker’s hand was the only thing that grounded you as a mix of emotions began to flood over you.
You understood, now, the man in front of you…but so many years of knowing him as just the one who took Oksana made it hard to see yourself forgiving him. You knew she would’ve, but you weren’t her. The anger you carried towards him, the hatred, couldn’t simply disappear.
“I...understand…now.” You slowly began to say. “But…it’s going to take a while for me to forgive you.” Bucky simply nodded at the confession with no animosity towards you. “I don’t know if it will be a month from now or even a year, but I will forgive you. You just have to give me time.”
-
You distanced yourself from the others after that. Choosing to spend most of your day in your dance studio as you thought over everything that happened in such a short amount of time.
From the truth about Bucky to the feelings you held for Walker. Now, you found yourself on one of the many balconies that lined the building. The slight breeze brought along a small chill that settled nicely across your skin. Your eyes staring up at the stars as the sounds of New York carried across the sky with the wind.
“I miss you, Oksana.”
You whispered to the sky in hopes the wind would carry into the heavens for her to hear. “She always wanted to come to the Americas, you know.” Slowly, you looked over your shoulder to see Walker leaning against the door leading into the main part of the building.
A small laugh left his mouth as he stepped closer to you. You always seemed to know when he was watching. “Now, she’s up there, looking down on everything.” The man leaned against the railing with his claps hands close to yours as you turned your eyes to the sky again.
“I know Lemar is up there too.”
The mention of his best friend caused the man to release a sharp breath. “I bet those two stars are them.” Walker followed the way you raised your finger to the sky to point at the two brightest stars in the sky. The two that were almost right next to each other.
Both you and Walker were silent–the only sounds coming from the light breeze and honks from down below. It wasn’t tense nor awkward. It was peaceful. The warmth of his body that wrapped around your arm made you long to lean into him–to have him hold you, but you stayed still next to him.
“That night…in the studio…” He softly began to say. “You said what you feel for me is different.” Your heart rate picked up from the mention of what had happened. A part of you wanted it to stay in the past–to simply get forgotten.
But another part, the larger part, beamed knowing the man thought about it as much as you. “What did you mean by that?” Walker kept his eyes on the sky as he whispered the question out.
The man spent every day since that night with it on his mind, replaying it over and over. The way your body felt slotted against his. The way your hands clung to his shirt like he was your lifeline. The way your heartbeat was as frantic as it was now.
“Oksana always told me stories about true love. Told me about ‘A deep rooted desire to stay close to them. To seek them in a crowd. To only want to hear their voice.’ I always tried to silence such thoughts because it was unattainable for us. But…”
Your voice fell off as fear crept into your mind. If you said what was in your heart it would all become real. And when something in your life became real it would eventually break. You didn’t want to break this…the gentle relationship you and Walker seemed to have crafted.
Slowly, Walker turned his entire body to face you and grab your hand with a gentle touch. “Do I…make you feel those things?” He asked as your eyes met his. The weight that settled in your chest was different from the kind that you carried. It wasn’t weight from pain…but from an emotion you never thought you would experience. An emotion the man before you seemed to dig out from the depths of your soul. He saw you. He knew you and it scared you.
You felt tears sting your eyes as you slowly nodded with a shaky inhale. “I’m scared of this, John. I’m scared of what you make me feel.” The words you muttered were laced with fear, causing the man to swiftly cup your cheeks.
His rough hands forcing a few drops of tears to fall down your skin. His blue eyes bore into yours as you spoke–never once shifting away from your gaze. “You don’t have to be scared.” He whispered as his head drew closer to you which, in turn, caused your chest to seize up.
It was like before, in the studio, the deep-rooted desire to be close to him caused your hands to latch on to his shirt. Once more your hearts began to almost beat in sync as your lips brushed across one another's.
“John…” The breath of his name that fell from your mouth kissed across his lips, forcing a small whine to tear through the man’s throat almost as if he was in pain holding himself back. Slowly, one of his hands moved to cup the back of your head. “Let me kiss you…please.”
He all but whimpered out. The feeling in your chest grew unbearable and clenching his shirt in your hands you yanked his mouth to yours right as the coil inside you broke.
His mouth enveloped yours in a way so desperate it was as if he was trying to consume you. A low growl tore through his chest as your lips began to move in sync with one another–your breath being stolen from your very lungs as his hand slid down to cup your neck.
It was a kiss full of hunger and desperation. So many weeks of teetering the line of something else snapping the moment your lips connected. The tears didn’t stop falling as you continued to kiss one another. Every emotion you ever pushed down came rushing to the surface as he held you, making your heart squeeze.
When you pulled back the man’s lips chased after yours…desperate to taste you once more. Slowly, you opened your eyes with heated cheeks to see Walker still with his eyes closed, lost in a sense of tranquility. “I–You–” He couldn’t find the words to express what he felt as his eyes fluttered open and the blond dropped his forehead to yours so, once more, your breath became intertwined.
“You’re fucking incredible.”
He panted out with a soft laugh–still in awe of what just happened. From how you tasted. “I don’t know how to do this.” You softly confessed with a heavy tone. Walker stroked your damp cheeks with a slight shake of his head. “We’ll take it one day at a time.” That's when a large smile stretched across your lips before you pulled him in for another kiss–the desire that you held for him became too much to bear after getting a taste.
The kiss was softer this time…no clashing teeth or noses bumping together. It was slow, deep, like the man was molding himself into you. And from the way your arms wrapped around his shoulders to bring him closer you wanted nothing less.
You wanted all of him the way he wanted all of you. And now…you had him just like he had you.
him with his tongue out, shaking his head side to side just a bit, providing a nice change of friction for you. he smiles when your moan changes pattern, an infliction there that lets him know he's done the right thing. his eyes are closed, he's basking in the moment, and his hand is pumping fiercely around his cock.
he's been at it like this for a while now, edging himself and refusing to let go until you do. it's why he sets his tongue out completely, his other hand blindly grabbing your hips and tugging you forward with enough force that communicates his want to you.
you start getting yourself off, grinding and jerking your hips how you like it, your clit bumping against mike's nose with each glide. he likes being used like this. he likes to know that you're getting off on him, that's he's making you feel like this.
it has him moaning pitifully beneath you, vibrations against your cunt alerting you. you push his hair back, his eyes opening with the gentle touch. his eyebrows pinch together, his eyes widen, his blunt nails dig into your ass cheek. all signs of an impending orgasm.
"you close?" you ask him. he nods as best as he can, the movement minute but still there. "me too." your hands grip his hair, your hips speeding up just a bit. "can you cum for me, baby? please?"
it's barely even a second later when you feel a drop or two of warm liquid against your lower back, instantly trailing down to your ass. when you glance back, you see that mikes pillowy abdomen caught the most of it and it shines prettily in the lamp light, contorting with the bend and stretch of mike's stomach that is created by his manual breathing.
Sejanus strikes me as the kind of guy that doesn't realize how big his cock is. He thinks he's average, but can barely fit his own fist around it. When he jerks off, he has to squeeze hard to keep a grip on it.
Sej is uncut as well, being born in the districts and all. It's not a thing "out there"
His balls smack against his thighs as he jerks, the salacious sound of his precum slicking up his shaft, and the skin against skin is enough to send him over the edge.
He whimpers, and his balls tighten as he spills all over his hand and stomach. Sej definitely cums a lot, easily over a tablespoon, and it's thick too.
saltburn isnt an 'eat the rich' movie, thats not the point. the catton's, their manor and riches, aides in the gothic tone and aestehtic of the movie. the intense riches creates an almost otherworldly place through saltburn, its about creating a feeling of otherness for oliver to deconstruct as he invades felix's homelife and the audicence is able to experience a trasformed and eerie world as we are lead through this insane home by Felix.
we aren't presented with the catton's to convey the troubles of wealth and the sheltered views of the wealthy. the movie is about voyuerism and obsession, intrusion. the wealth of the family just elevates the audiecnes ability to feel as though they themselves are invading the catton lifestyle along with Oliver.
