WINTER KILLS

Natasha & Bucky, with very special guest stars Liho & Alpine by Rod Reis [rodreis] | NYCC 2019

               really,   the   soreness   in   her   muscles   doesn’t   matter.   neither   of   them   are   bleeding,   for   once,   and   he   looks   unfairly   handsome   in   his   seat   on   the   quinjet.         “   we   can   go   get   pancakes,   ”         natasha   pulls   at   the   zipper   of   her   catsuit,   stretches,   feigns   a   yawn   ———   knowing   full   well   what   that’ll   do   to   him.   the   green   in   her   eyes   turns   aquamarine.         “   but   you’ll   owe   me.   ”

the vibrato of laughter escapes him, brief but hearty. she always has been able to unearth those emotions out of him, to dig past the pain and mine out the happiness. ❛  i’m at your mercy already, natalia. ❜ he teases, eyes languidly grazing over her figure as she stretches out --he hopes it isn’t too obvious. but then again, natasha knows him so well that she can probably pinpoint his every thought. ❛  they never said we couldn’t stop after the mission...so let’s go for it. ❜

“We need to talk about Sharon.”

“yeah? is she ok?”

thank you chris samnee for my life

it felt like there was something she should have done. could have done to save him. save them. how many times had she thought about running? before they’d been found out. before the KGB had scrubbed him from her mind, and wed her to alexi, it must have been dozens. still young, and desperately in love … she’d thought of running every day. she should have convinced him of it. reaching over she brushed her hand against his back, leaning forward she pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades. “i never regretted you either,” she whispered. “not a moment of it. i only wish … i had convinced you to run away with you.” 

“it never woulda worked, natalia.” defeatist wasn’t an attitude that suited him. he’s too headstrong, too impulsive. back then, he would have run away with her in a heartbeat, but the years have granted him a sliver of wisdom he didn’t have in his reckless youth. reality was one hell of a buzzkill. “i was their puppet, they probably had ways to track me. it wouldn’t have been safe.” there’s a somber hint of acceptance that spills from his every word, the kind that was born from years of retrospection on that very subject. “but it’s ok. ‘cause my life now is what matters. you’re here, i’m here, we’re both out...i’m happy. that’s what you’ve given me.”

Winter Soldier by Gabriele Dell’Otto.

‘stop pretending life doesn’t terrify you.’

like for a starter :’)

2017, commission for Sir Anka