Mmmm. Amen to that last anon. đđžđŚđŚđŚ
Like...imagine Bucky walking towards you like that. Goodbye clothes, youâre no longer neededÂ
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Mmmm. Amen to that last anon. đđžđŚđŚđŚ
Like...imagine Bucky walking towards you like that. Goodbye clothes, youâre no longer neededÂ

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Can you tag me in your daddy bucky fic when you post it? :)
Of course, definitely. And itâs coming soon I promise, Iâve just been a bit busy with other stuff.
If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know.
Ineffable (Chapter 6)
âYour first mission, huh?â Adam remarked, noticing my mission gear as we stood in the elevator. âFinally. Itâs been a month since Iâve gotten here. I would have thought Iâd be out there a long time ago.â I sighed. âWell they just want to make sure youâre ready.â He lightly punched my arm, and I glared at him, rolling my eyes. Adam and I had become pretty good friends recently. In fact, he was my only real friend at this point. Granted, we had to get past the point where heâd shameless flirt with me, and Iâd unapologetically tear him down every time. I wasnât sure at this point if he still was into me, but now we were in a place where we were genuinely comfortable with each other as friends. âYou nervous?â I glared at him once again. âOf course not, itâs an easy mission. Go in, grab whatever files those other people are hiding, and get out. A 10 year old could do this mission. Youâre coming with us, right?â Adam nodded. âIâm only on backup if anything goes seriously wrong. You four are on your own.â I felt my heart flutter, and drop a little bit when he said that. I couldnât really explain why, but I guess I just at the last minute wanted to know that someone I knew was going to be there. Or at least someone who I was somewhat comfortable around. The elevator door opened, and I suddenly felt another wave of nervousness hit me before I knew I had to leave him. Adam and I exchanged another glance before parting ways, him giving me a silent look that basically said, âgood luckâ. âAnd donât make us come up there to get you guys!â He yelled from behind.
âŚ
After a three hour ride to the facility, we were ready to go. There were four of us. Two other agents that I had never met before, a girl and a boy, and the leader of this OP, Emelia. Alexanderâs daughter. We had 30 minutes maximum to get in, grab the stolen files, and get out. There wasnât anyone suspected to be in the warehouse, but we always had to be prepared with hidden weapons and such. We approached the building, quietly looking for signs of any watchmen, or guards. The coast seemed clear. âCoast is clear.â I whispered over my com, waiting for my other teammates to come by and meet me. I noticed Emelia come over to my side, the other team members were entering through the other side. I tried so hard not to roll my eyes at her. She still hated me so much, even more so since I had come back to Washington from Russia. Especially after I handed her ass to her in front of everyone when she decided to challenge me during training. She expected me to still be the weak little ballerina I was when I first joined Hydra, but boy was she wrong. âListen,â she said firmly. âIâm no happier about this than you are, but weâre just going to have to suck it up.â I raised an eyebrow at her, and scoffed, not saying a word. I knew this got under her skin deeply, but I didnât expect what was going to happen next. âListen, bitch!â She grabbed me by the front of my tank top, and slammed me against the metal wall, her big blue eyes giving me a look as sharp as razors. âThis may be your first mission. But this is your first mission with me. If you mess anything up, I will make your life a living hell. And trust me, I know how to make that happen.â She didnât scare me. And I could tell, she really wanted me to afraid. It seemed like almost everyone around her was in some way intimidated by her, even much older men who were superior to her. But I saw right through it. I felt no fear, or intimidation whatsoever towards her. âAre you done?â I simply answered, before pushing her off of me and finally walking into the building. I could feel her blood boiling behind me, and I felt a smile form at the right corner of my lips as I continued to walk in front of her. Emelia and I gladly split up to opposite sides of the warehouse while the other team members made sure the security alarm, and cameras were shut of, and that the premises was clear. Everything was going well, except for the fact that I wanted to be the one to find the files first. Being competitive was always in my nature. I always felt like I had to be the best. But when I was around Emelia with her snarky comments and superior demeanor, that instinct was always amplified by a thousand. âFound them. Letâs go.â said Emeliaâs voice over the coms. I groaned, silently but I was a little bit relieved to get out of that building. The whole vibe of it was giving me the creeps, and I couldnât explain why. âGuys,â said the guy named Jackson over the com. âIt looks like weâre not alone, thereâs some people coming in and they donât lookâŚOh, shi-â And then it went silent in my ear, but I heard a scream on the other side of the building. I ran over the the other side to look for wherever the scream came from, but when I got there I didnât find anyone in adamant danger. There were two guys on the floor. They werenât dead, but they were out cold. They probably wouldnât wake up for a while, but I kept my guard up just in case anyone was around. I heard a shuffle around me. The footsteps were wide, and sounded like a manâs footsteps. I stayed dead still in hopes that he wouldnât find me. I hoped that it was Jacksonâs footsteps, but I couldnât take that chance. I couldnât call out to anyone for backup or help because I knew whoever was near me might find me. I tiptoed silently around my area. Shelves upon shelves blocking my view of anyone that could be around in the section that I was in hoping to find someone that wouldnât try to kill me. Suddenly, I heard more footsteps coming closer, and closer. I stayed dead still. Someone grabbed me from behind, placing their hand on my mouth. I tried everything in my power not to scream at that moment and focus. I bit down on his hand. So hard, that I could have sworn that I tasted blood. The man behind me swore and I swung around quickly and kicked him square in the jaw. I instantly saw that he was irritated by the groan he let out and the look of anger that took over his face as he noticed his mouth was bleeding. âOh, youâre gonna regret that princess.â He growled. Before I could run, or do anything else to defend myself, he grabbed me from behind holding me so that I couldnât move. I was scared, and nobody else was around to help. I wasnât sure if I stayed silent so that nobody else from the other group that were after us could hear me, or because of the pure fear and adrenaline that was running through my veins. I struggled in his hold, but he wouldnât let up. He slammed me face first onto the hard, concrete floor, and I let out a cry in pain. There was a blood stain on the ground and I knew that there was probably some type of cut on my forehead, but I couldnât feel anything anymore. My instincts from training finally kicked in and I went for him, finally matching him in a fight that I was hoping to win so that we could get the hell out of there. I did not spend a year in Russia getting my ass beaten and handed to me for nothing. I quickly dodged his punches and kicks, and avoided when he attempted to grab me for a good while. But when I tried to get a little bit closer to throw another kick, he grabbed me by the neck and held me down onto the floor, choking me so that he could kill me right there. I couldnât breath. I couldnât scream, I couldnât cry, and after a while I could barely feel my limbs. I couldnât let this be my last few moments on earth. I knew that, and I suddenly remembered my knife and gun that were in hidden pockets of my pants. I masked my movements to grab for one of them to make it seem like I was struggling more than I was already to breathe, and acted as if I was finally starting to pass out. I couldnât stand the look of pure satisfaction on his face as he watched mine turn purple, and my eyes went red and watery. At the moment that it happened, I couldnât really say what was going on in my mind. Maybe nothing was going on in my mind at the time. Maybe I was focusing on how I was struggling to breath, or stay alive that my inner thought process had just shut down. Or maybe it was from the pure shock of what I had just done. Something that I was clearly trained to do, and would eventually be praised for. But nothing prepared me for the look on the mans face when I put my knife into his abdomen. I couldnât say what exactly I was thinking when I felt warm blood start to trickle on me as he was in shock as to what had just happened as well. And I couldnât tell you what compelled me to grab my gun, and shoot him two more times near where I had just previously stabbed him to make sure that he would actually die. I couldnât even remember how long it had been before my other team members had found me laying on the ground in shock with a dead, bleeding man who was almost three times my weight on top of me. I could barely remember the ride home. Who I was with, if I spoke to anyone, if I stayed with the same expression on my face for three hours, or why there was a blanket on me when I finally snapped out of it as we approached home base. ⌠I laid in bed, completely still. I wasnât sure if at that moment I couldnât move, or I just didnât want to. I couldnât sleep, which was fun considering the fact that I had a procedure to fix the scar on my head in the morning. I thought about when Adam sat next to me when we got back to the base when I was in the infirmary. At the time, I was a hospital gown because they had taken my blood stained clothes off of me, and also my hair was a total mess. He didnât bother me with a whole bunch of questions because he knew I would have to answer a whole lot the next day. He just stayed silent for the most part and sat next to me making sure I was okay. He had offered to stay with me during the night, but I declined. There was no point in being a weak little wimp when I simply did what I had been trained to do. This was who I was now, and I just had to get used to the idea. But I suddenly found myself regretting that decision. For some reason, I didnât want to be alone. I wanted him near me. I couldnât explain the feeling, but I missed the presence of him next to me when his arm was just barely brushing against mine as we sat next to each other at the infirmary. Or the warmth of his smile as he reassured me that everything was okay. Or even the worried look on his face when he was looking for me after he had heard about what had happened. Minutes later, I found myself at his doorstep frantically knocking on his door even though it was 1 in the morning. He opened the door in almost no time, and without hesitation I found myself wrapping my arms around him in tears. Without a word he held me and led me to his bed to sit down. âHey, whatâs wrong?â He whispered, wiping some my tears off with his right hand as I cried uncontrollably. He didnât coax me to speak anymore, he just held me close to him and softly moved his hand up and down my arm to calm me down. âI donât know why Iâm being such a baby about thisâŚI mean, I just-â I couldnât finish my sentence, I was focusing too hard on not bursting into tears again. âThe first time I killed someoneâŚâ Adam sighed, he sounded like he was deep in thought. âThe first time it happened, um, I didnât sleep for a week. I kept thinking about it as if it was a movie frame by frame. They teach you that this is what youâre trained to do, and you shouldnât have feelings behind itâŚBut whether it was on purpose, or in self defense, you still killed someone. Itâs normal to feel that way, especially the first time.â  âDoes that feeling go away? Does it get easier as time goes on?â I sniffled. ââŚYeahâ But when he said that, it gave me no comfort. His voice was uneasy, and I wasnât sure if he sounded like that because he regretted feeling better, or that it never did get easier. Maybe it was somewhere in between. I looked up at him, lifting my head from his chest a little bit at his distant expression. His golden eyes glowed slightly from the moonlight shining through the window, and he had a little bit of stubble growing on his perfect jawline. âWhat is it?â He whispered as he noticed me staring intently at him, but I didnât answer his question. I pressed my lips to his, softly, deeply, meaningfully. It was the last thing he had expected me to do, and before a few minutes ago, it was the last thing I had expected myself to do. I had spent so much time tearing him down whenever he would even hint at the idea that he had feelings for me. I just didnât want to hear it, but at that very moment I had hoped that I wasnât too late. I hoped that there was still a glimmer of what he had felt for me before. And there was. He didnât pull back, or push me away. He moved his hands to my face and kissed me deeper. Deeper than I had ever been kissed before, and I wanted more. I wanted all of him all at the same moment. I let out a soft moan against his lips, and slipped my hands under his shirt. His breathing started to pick up, and he lowered me onto my back. My heart beat so quickly, I could have sworn that it was going to pump out of my chest with ease. He removed his lips from my mouth and moved over to my neck, leaving soft kisses and bites along the right side. I let out a gasp as he did so, along with a breathy moan. I felt him smile against my neck at my desperate sounds. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. âDo you have a condom?â I pulled away from him, looking into his lust filled eyes. âYeah,â he rasped before pressing his lips to mine again and reaching toward his nightstand, opening the drawer. As he did so, it gave me a moment to slow down and really think about what I was doing. âThis is my first time.â I blurted out, wincing at my own words as Adam sat back up next to me. âLikeâŚI havenât- I mean it just neverâŚâ I kept stuttering on my words, feeling my face get hotter and hotter. âScarlette,â I heard a little bit of protest in his voice. I was suddenly more embarrassed. I screwed it up. Maybe I shouldnât have said anything, or made a move in the first place. âI-Iâm sorry. I shouldnât ha-â âNo, no, no.â He whispered, pressing his forehead against mine so close that our noses were brushing together. âYou donât need to be embarrassed.â He reassured me. â I just want to make sure youâre doing this because you want to and not just because youâre upset.â I smiled at how caring he actually was. It was one of the reasons why I was sure about having my first time with him right then. I really did want him, and maybe I wanted him all along but just didnât want to admit it. I let him know that I was ready for this by kissing him deeper than the previous time. âIâm sure.â
(Notes: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you like this flashback chapter. Next chapter will be soon, and let me know how you like these flashbacks. I know this seem kind of out of place right now, but itâll all come together in the future, I promise. ;) And let me know if you want me to tag you in future chapters.)
Tags: @a-heart-attack-ow @fantasticimpaladoctor
Hi. I'm that anon. I feel so stupid and needy. (>.<) But seriously, I started out like you. I've been writing my entire life for fun, and fanfics for a couple of years and I just decided to start posting it. But for some reason I've been a nervous mess like "What if people hate it?" "What if it's not good?" and blah blah blah. But I keep trying to tell myself that it shouldn't really matter how many people read it because it's what I love to do. But I still want people to like it. ..
Well, first of all, I canât wait to read your stuff! :D And second, donât worry I was honestly a nervous wreck when I first started posting. I always worried about others not enjoying what Iâm writing, itâs too cliche, or itâs boring and not what they wanted. But not only are we writing for them, weâre writing for ourselves. I used to hate writing, but now I love it! Writing takes time, hard work and dedication. Itâs certainly not easy, it can be hard. I always worry about how many likes I get on mine, wishing I had a huge # because then @ least I know Iâm doing a âgood jobâ. But itâs not about how many likes or reblogs you get, itâs how much youâre enjoying yourself & having fun.Â
And donât feel stupid, we all get needy sometimes. I really hope this helped! Keep writing though, donât stop just because someone might not like it.Â