Broken Mirrors - Chapter V
Bucky x Assassin!Reader
Smut, Angst
Warnings: Violence, mild gun use, 18+
Plot: On your quest to figure out what the enemy's next move is, you and Bucky desperately try to fight your feelings for each other.
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Breathless. Once again, he has you breathless.
You groan against his lips as he roughly slams you against the wall pushing his body against yours without pulling his lips away.
You feel his hands move up and down your torso, relishing in how his hands linger when they graze the sides of your breasts.
Finally, one of his hands slides behind you stopping right above your ass where the zipper begins on your backless dress.
You let out an anticipatory whimper as he does. As the dress falls, he scans your body eyes wide when he realizes that the only thing that you were wearing under that dress is a lacy thong.
He doesn’t waste time attaching his mouth to your neck leaving harsh bites that will definitely leave marks and soothes the bites with his tongue. He eventually moves lower and you feel your wetness pooling between your legs when his mouth reaches contact with your left breast as your right nipple peaks against his right hand.
“Please,” you beg breathlessly, and you can feel that devious smile of his against your sensitive skin.
“Please, what?” he growls.
The answer is, is that you don’t even know. Your head is spinning, your thoughts reeling, and your body is on fire. What do you want? His mouth? His fingers? His cock?
The answer is all of the above. All of it. All of him.
He stops and removes all contact.
Your body trembles with need and you shoot him a look of pure anger stemming from desperation.
Mother fucker.
As he continues to stare at you have to come to terms that once again, you are completely at his mercy.
“Please. Anything,” you whine.
He deviously raises an eyebrow and chuckles.
“Okay, princess,” he whispers against your ear.
How did the nickname he gave you that he knew you hated, sound so good at this very moment?
He kisses his way down your body until he’s on his knees before you, and without taking his devilish gaze away from yours he slowly pulls your thong down and lets them fall to your ankles. You promptly kick them off and turn to see that the piece of lace hooks perfectly onto the door handle.
“Good aim,” he says.
You snort looking at it, and without warning his mouth is against your core pulling a surprised gasp out of you.
Your gape at the sight of him ruthlessly licking your clit.
He grabs your right leg and hooks it over his shoulder and pushes your hips forward creating a new angle so that he can push his tongue inside of you.
You throw your head back and you lose all control of the sounds escaping your mouth.
Once again, he pulls away.
You whimper in protest as he chuckles darkly.
“Don’t take your eyes off me, princess.”
You swear that stupid nickname just made you wetter.
You obey and watch as he laps at you while he stares up at you in a manner that lets you know that he knows that he has you wrapped around his finger.
Speaking of his finger, he pushes the middle finger of his metal hand into you and curls it inside of you. Your eyes shut close from the expert friction. And with that, he stops until you shoot him another venomous glare.
He then continues to expertly lap at your clit with his tongue and adds both his middle and ring finger. He alternates between curling his fingers in a come hither motion and twisting them inside of you.
It’s too much. You need release.
You begin to rock your hips, heightening the intensity of what he’s doing to you. You half expect him to stop once again so that he can have all of the control, but he doesn’t. He grips onto your right hip and encourages the motion. He lets out a groan against you, sending a vibration that travels from your clit, up to your spine, and down to your toes.
And there it is. That familiar feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach signaling that you’re close, and by the feeling of your walls fluttering around him he knows. He grows more intense with the strokes of his fingers, and he presses his mouth even more so against you and he eats you harder and faster.
Your breath hitches and shudders and now you go silent because you really can’t breathe.
He doesn’t stop his torturous ministrations until you…until you—
“Y/N…Wake up.”
Your eyes shoot open, and in a confused state you note the rows of seats all around you and…your arm hooked around Buckys’.
You immediately snatch your arm away.
In a few seconds, everything rushes back to you. You’re on a plane. You’re headed to Madripoor without your uncle knowing, and you’re doing it basically against your will. And once again you just had a dream about the guy that you’re pretty sure that you can’t stand and is low-key your kidnapper.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
You notice that you’re breathing is somewhat erratic and you wonder how long it’s been like that.
“You seemed like you were having a nightmare,” he points out.
‘Depends on who you ask,’ you mutter in your head.
You just shake your head and shrug.
“I wouldn’t know…I don’t usually remember my dreams,” you lie. You remember ALL of your dreams. Especially the ones about him.
Just like the aftermath of the one you had experienced this morning, you can feel an intense pulsing between your legs. You were so close to orgasm in your dreams you swear that you could have had one in real life while you were asleep sans friction. Now all you can think about now is heading to the bathroom to finish the job yourself…Or pulling him by the wrist and taking him with you—
“Stop it,” you mentally scold yourself.
As you unbuckle your seatbelt he immediately takes his hand and buckles it back. Your breath hitches with his hand so close to where you ache for him.
You shoot him a confused and angry look. Granted, he doesn’t quite understand the reason for the anger.
“We’re about to land,” he responds.
You look up at the seatbelt sign and see that he’s right.
“How long was I asleep?” you groan sleepily rubbing your eyes.
“About an hour,” he answers.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You seemed like you were having a pretty intense dream…With your head on my shoulder.”
You bless your skin tone because you would be red as hell from the embarrassment. You shake it off before you can think about it much longer.
“Stop acting like you care, Barnes,” you chide, and he shrugs it off.
“Who says I do?”
You narrow your eyes and relax back in your seat. This is going to be a long trip.
…
Bucky’s POV
I can’t help but steal glances as she fixes her makeup and jewelry in the mirror. She may get under my skin like no one else, but fuck she’s beautiful.
Not that I’d ever let her know that I think so. Not that I’m hiding the fact that on that plane while she was having a fucking nightmare with her head on my shoulder I woke up from a dream where I was buried deep inside of her against a wall while she gasped my name over and over again–
‘Shut the fuck up,’ I groan mentally before I start getting hard in front of her.
She can never know about this. As far as I’m concerned once we’re done I never have to see Y/N again…
“What is it?” Y/N asks suspiciously.
I didn’t even notice that I was staring in her direction, but damn she looks good in that long, black, back-exposing dress with her long leg propped up on the chair tying her strappy heels and ankle bracelet on.
‘Fuuuck me,” I think. I swear this woman is trying to seduce me.
“Has anybody told you that you have a bit of a staring problem?” she asks.
I just give her an annoyed look silently communicating that I’ve been waiting too long for her to get ready. The truth is, I could watch her get ready for hours.
Everything she did was full of grace. The way she strutted around the room with purpose, the way she fixed her hair, fixed her jewelry; fuck, she even looked good spraying perfume on.
She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously, and I attempt not to swallow nervously.
“What is it?” I ask in an annoyed tone.
“I think I know what’s going on here,” she says.
I’m so fucked.
“What’s going on is that you’re taking too long,” I snap.
A maniacal smirk creeps up her lips. Those damn lips that not three hours ago I dreamt about being wrapped around my co–
‘Focus Bucky,’ the voice in my head snaps.
All I do is raise an eyebrow waiting for her to spit out whatever she thinks is on in my head.
“I can see it in your eyes, Barnes,” she says melodically.
“You…You have a crush.”
Fuck.
I frown, masking my embarrassment and at least attempt to defer her suspicions. And I’m not exactly sure that crush is the term that I’d say it is. That sounded more like something innocent kids in the schoolyard would say, and frankly what I’ve been feeling for her has been far from innocent.
“A crush on Mia,” she clarifies.
I know that this girl is too smart to think or say something as stupid as that.
“What?” I snort.
She pauses to apply dark red lipstick not realizing that she is not helping my situation.
“You’re so concerned about me seeing her. And I see the way that you were just looking at me. You know. Her. Fucking. Replica.”
I don’t even answer the question and turn around to grab my phone that rests on the couch letting her assume that she’s right, which I assume worked considering her chuckle.
“So we have our plan straight, right?” I deflect.
“Uggh,” she groans.
“Of course I do. We grab Ingrid’s minion, use whatever method needed to get the info we need on what the hell she’s planning, save the world, in turn saving your future wife.”
She finishes the last part of that sentence with an exaggerated wink accompanied by that drop-dead gorgeous smile that came out when she was teasing.
I roll my eyes and look down at my phone to distract myself.
“You know I’m trusting you not to fuck this up,” I warn.
She mimics my reaction to her and rolls her eyes while she giggles.
“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation,” she chimes mischievously.
This is going to be a long trip.
…
The way that he stole glances every now and again since you got dressed up was not helping you. And what helped even less was the semi-formal look that he was wearing. Why did the guy that annoyed the shit out of you have to be so…handsome?
Luckily at this point, you don’t have to be near him. You’re just a single girl at a fancy party waiting to spot or be spotted by the person you’re looking for.
“Hey,” Bucky says through your earpiece.
“I think I found him. To your right by the bar.”
You look over across the large ballroom of the fancy hotel. And sure enough there he is double-fisting two drinks like it’s an Olympic sport.
This is going to be way too easy.
You strut your way over to him pouring the charm extra thick with your walk and demeanor. And just as suspected, he starts taking the bait.
“Mind if I steal this one?” you chime coquettishly grabbing the second tumblr of brandy from him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky asks.
You try not to react so that the guy isn’t suspicious. You’re doing exactly what you’ve been doing best for the better part of your life.
The guy looks surprised at how bold you’re being, but you just play along.
“Spend a lot of time here?” you ask.
The guy is kind of quiet. Subdued. Even a little insecure. This you can work with.
“Parties aren’t really my thing. I’m just here because of my boss– I’m just here for a work thing.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“What do you do?”
You note how Bucky doesn’t protest anymore and just lets you do your thing.
“You ask a lot of questions for someone that I don’t even know.”
You pout.
“Sorry,” you say.
“I’m just not really good at making friends.”
“Who are you here with? Are you alone?”
“Now who’s the one with the questions,” you smirk.
He draws his glass forward and you follow to clink them together.
“To parties that we hate going to,” he toasts, and you giggle, placing a friendly but suggestive hand on his shoulder while taking a drink.
“You are way too out of his league to make it believable that you want to flirt with him,” Bucky warns.
You can’t tell whether this is a compliment or a critique of your methods. Regardless you hold back one of the world’s biggest eye rolls.
The guy wasn’t terrible looking…If you closed one eye and tilted your head. He was average height, balding a little prematurely if your guess of him being in his mid-thirties is correct. He has a bit of a slouch, but your guess is it’s just from his discomfort from being at this party.
You continue to talk to him for the next 15 minutes letting him loosen up, and trust you a little bit more…All that while coercing him to get a little more alcohol in his system. Once his words slurred enough to your liking, you whisper in his ear,
“Hey…Before your friends get here, want to sneak out for a bit?”
His eyes widen and a smile creeps up his lips.
Sucker.
“Let’s go to the rooftop,” you suggest enunciating so that Bucky knows exactly where to meet you.
“I heard it’s beautiful up there.”
He hesitates and looks around and relaxes when he sees that whoever he’s meeting with hasn’t arrived yet.
You playfully grab his hand and lead the way.
“Y/N,” Bucky says.
“Say, ‘this is going to be a lot of fun’ if you want me to meet you there.”
You stop and think about it as you strut down the hallway up the stairs. Sure, you want to say that you can do this yourself, but your pride getting in the way could get a little bit risky. So reluctantly you say the sentence.
“This is going to be a lot of fun.”
And the man agrees.
Before you made it to the top of the building, Bucky let you know that the coast was clear for the roof and nobody should be bothering you guys.
You giggle as you playfully take both of his hands and walk backwards through the doorway and he happily follows. You can’t deny that in the short period of time since you’ve met, he’s tipsy and unreservedly enamored with you.
“So,” he says suggestively.
“What do you want to do now?”
You step closer to him seductively and bring your lips close to his ear.
“Do you really want to know what I want?”
His breath hitches as he nods.
You hike up the long slit of your dress further exposing your leg to swiftly grab the gun strapped to it and press it to his abdomen.
“I’d love for you to tell me about what the fuck Ingrid is up to right now.”
His eyes widen when he realizes what’s going on. And then they grow even wider when he sees who’s behind your shoulder.
“You little bitch,” he snarls.
You pout sarcastically.
“Now that’s not how you talk to a lady,” Bucky scolds.
You hold back a chuckle.
He looks defenseless, and you realize that this guy is really unarmed. Who the hell is this bozo to go anywhere unarmed? His reaction was enough of a dead giveaway. He couldn’t even play it cool for half a second.
“You know who this is, right?” I ask.
He nods nervously and swallows.
“Okay. So we’re going to ask you some questions, and you’re gonna answer them.”
“Or what?” he snaps.
Bucky opens his iPad and shows files upon files and photos of many of his shady exploits for and against many powerful people that were pretty damning. Secrets that if divulged would be disastrous for him.
…You’re pretty sure that Bucky will probably make sure he ends up behind bars at some point once you’re done with the whole mess that you’re dealing with, but now’s not the right time or soil to be doing that.
The man goes white and takes a shaky deep breath and you see the regret in his eyes for listening to his dick.
Suddenly, his eyes narrow, and this look makes your heart stop. He looked like he was… recognizing you.
You hold your face still hiding your nervousness while you still have the upper hand. You’re the one with the gun pointed at his fucking chest.
You play it off like you don’t know what’s going on and look behind you as if you’re expecting someone else to be behind you. Nope. Just that same look of recognition.
You take the gun and press it against his chest even harder.
“What is it?” you hiss.
“Aren’t you Charlie's kid?” he questions.
You hold back a gulp and maintain your hostile glare.
“Nope.” This technically wasn’t a lie.
He tilts his head and holds a malevolent grin. How dare this guy make you feel like a stupid little girl with just a facial expression?
“Stop lying. I know exactly who you are.”
Bucky holds the iPad closer to his face and threatens him.
“I’ll press send motherfucker.”
He’s not phased by the threat and doesn’t take his curious gaze away from yours.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in hiding?”
Yes. But how does he know that?
“You’re not any closer to giving me an answer.”
“Wow, you really don’t know what’s going on now do you.”
You fight to let your anger not get the best of you.
He points to Bucky.
“You also really know how to pick the right people to sneak off with too.”
You press the gun even harder, and you notice that the stupid asshole is trying to calculate how to take it away from you by surprise.
“Okay, fine. I’ll at least tell you this since you’re going to find this out anyway,” he stutters as you pull the safety off.
“Good old Charlie and Ingrid called a truce.”
A look of shock overtakes your face and you can see the smug satisfaction that he feels.
“You didn’t know?”
You don’t answer.
“They’re literally planning your next job right now in Austria. Charles for some reason got some weird bullshit call to go somewhere in Dubai, and once he realized that he was set up he flew over there, and is headed to this city tomorrow.”
You feel like wiping that smug look off of this guy’s face with your fist. But you know that anger wasn’t all because of him.
So many times you had asked your uncle to include you in the plans that you were directly involved in. And he agreed. He promised. And now as it turns out he’s holding another big one from you.
“How big are these plans?”
He shrugs.
“I’m not privy to those details…yet. But I have to say it’s gotta be a pretty big deal for a truce like this.”
He didn’t know yet. The guy was going to know more about your future before you even did. You feel nothing but lost. You’re confused, hurt, and maybe even a little scared about what’s coming up. You just killed a political figure in broad daylight, and you thought that they trusted you because they gave you details pretty far in advance. At least you thought they did. What could be so important that they’re hiding it from you? To top it off, you’re learning this info in front of a super soldier that very well could be determined to stop you when you do find out what the hell is going on. And for what might be longer than a split second, you’re okay with that.
You let out a sigh and pull the gun back and decide that you have no other option than to let him go. You’d try to keep track of him, but he might be the least of your worries from now on.
You and Bucky exchange a look and it’s clear that he just came to the same conclusion.
“Tell anyone about this or one of us will hunt you down. Are we clear?” you say in a low and menacing tone. He nods and watches you slowly, and carefully place the gun back into the holster attached to your thigh.
“Okay. Well, have fun at your little meeting.”
He raises a taunting brow.
“I guess I’ll see you soon.”
You use every ounce of your self-control to not kick him where it counts with that snide comment. But it wouldn’t be worth it.
“Come on, Y/N,” Bucky says, sensing your tension. And feeling like nothing but a defeated little girl, you follow.