Weapons | Bucky Barnes x OC

9. LONGING

Warnings: detailed smut ahead (here we are, this is my first smut ever, be kind and lemme know what you think).
I'm not gonna spoil anything, just know it's pretty intense, with some kinks and a little dub-con.
See you at the end of the page.

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"Brilliant Anya. Блестящий! (Brilliant.)" Karpov cheered as he examined the documents in the briefcase as he listened to the mission report and an agent took note.

"Спасибо (Thank you), sir." she said seriously and with her hands joined behind her back to help maintain a straight and composed posture in front of her superior.

"And how did you find working with the Asset?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Good, sir. Respect and mutual trust. I think we make a good team." Anya said, nodding.

Karpov nodded smugly with one hand under his chin, slightly lost in his thought.

✪

Anya spent most of the night pacing through the room, almost consuming the concrete of the floor. Occasionally stopping in front of the bathroom mirror, talking to herself, motivating herself and throwing herself down immediately after.

She hadn't even changed or unbuckled her utility belt. She went from lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, to sitting on the floor cleaning her weapons, thinking.

This is a really bad idea.
No. I have to try.
Bad idea.
I need to go to him.
I just have to let go and go there. Yup.
No. No. No. Ridiculous. You're ridiculous.
You're a fool for thinking about these things. To think he wants you.
And you're even dumber for wanting him.
You must be crazy to fantasize about such a person.

In the end, she decided.

Anya got out of bed and sneaked out her room. With stealth and silent movements like a black cat, making her way through multiple corridors. Even though she was now allowed to roam freely around the facility -albeit in a limited area- she would never get used to it.

Soon she found herself in front of a reinforced and barred door. Picking that lock would be harder and noisier than expected, but she couldn't just knock. It would have been too humiliating for her pride. Then Anya took a butterfly knife from a holster of her suit and stuck the sharp, thin blade into the lock.

After some time working on it, the lock clicked open and she pushed the door slightly forward. Revealing a room similar to hers, illuminated by the dim light of an old table lamp.

Mainly bare walls, on one of them hung a frame of what must have been a mirror. On one side of the room was a bed similar to hers but larger, so that it could welcome a body much larger and heavier than hers. Next to it was a simple nightstand with a book resting on it.

When Anya turned her gaze to the other side of the room, she winced. Her eyes landed on the mighty silhouette of the man sitting at a messy desk. In the nearly darkness of the room, all the light was captured and reflected by that metal arm. She heard the sound of pages being turned and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She closed the door behind her, making as little noise as possible, afraid of destroying the calm and space she had already invaded.

As if he hadn't already noticed your presence. She thought.
In fact he already knew who it was from the way he heard the blade moving in the lock.

Suddenly she wanted to know what he was reading, what those scattered papers on the table in front of him were, and what books were on the shelves. She started walking towards him, holding her breath and taking one step at a time, as if she were an elephant in a crystal cabinet.