Been working on this kind of story the past month, Bucky and a OC, I actually wrote this story in a notebook first, so far I have about 200pgs front to back of this story now time to type it and publish lol. Will be smutty
It was an extremely hot day for the start of the fall season in New York. It was a record setting day, being 80 degrees. It seemed everyone was enjoying the extra day of warmth, well everyone except one 106-year-old man.
Bucky had quietly moved back to the city close to where he grew up in Brooklyn over a month ago. He moved this time of the year solely because of the colder weather that was coming. The end of October mean winter was coming, making it easier for him to conceal his arm, being able to wear long sleeve layered clothes wasn't uncommon here during the winter, no one would look twice at someone wearing extra layers of winter clothes. Sure, they might think he wasn't a native new yorker but no one would take a second glance at him. But now with it being 80 degrees outside he wouldn't fit in, he wouldn't be hiding in plain sight, no now he would like he was trying to hide something.
Bucky frowned at his hidden metal arm, well vibranium arm technically now, turning his head out his floor length windows, he had a clear view of the street down below from his small apartment. It was a simple 1-bedroom apartment, it had a kitchen, sitting area, a bedroom and a bathroom. Nothing fancy. He watched the people below him walking about their lives, clearly enjoying the weather. He had to go out today to get groceries he hadn't gone in 3 weeks and he was out of food. The only time he left his apartment was to get food, walk around the streets at night, and to run in the mornings. He needed food, sure he could order it online, but he didn't like leaving a paper trail. Well, they didn't call it that now did they? No, they referred to it as a digital footprint, right? He shook his head at his own question. It didn't matter, he didn't want a trace of him. He only cared about his solitude, why he carried a simple flip phone, and only paid in cash.
He obtained his money from a bank account set up for him. It was set up by none other than Tony Stark, the man who lost both his parents to him… Stark had set up the bank account before they brought everyone back from the snap, the man did think of almost everything. Bucky is sure Steve had a play in it, knowing he would go back to Peggy. The account had unlimited funds in his name, well not exactly his name. It was under Richard Condon, the author of the Manchurian Candidate. It seemed even in death Stark had the last laugh. A nice nickname he was give by Stark. Still, he couldn't believe Stark would do this for him…He had never even apologized to him, never got the chance.
It had been over a year since they had defeated Thanos and brought everyone back, well not everyone. Nat was beyond the stones, Steve was gone now, and Tony the man who sacrificed himself to save us all. Howard would be proud, saying "I knew he would" Bucky thought. He felt shame thinking about Howard and the Starks… his past always on his mind, awake and sleeping.
A police card drove past his apartment sirens blaring bringing him out of his thoughts. The city was never quiet, always something going on. Turning away from his windows, making his way to his front door. Stopping on the way to grab his keys, phone, and wallet, putting them in his pockets. He put a dark blue baseball cap on, taming his long hair, shielding his face, slipping a black denim jacket over his long black sleeve shirt. Pulling a pair of black leather gloves from his jacket pocket and slipping them over his hands. Already regretting having to go out looking like he was going to rob someone.
"Fuck" Bucky muttered to himself.
Opening the door, he mentally pushed himself out, locking it and making his way downstairs, walking quickly out of his apartment building lobby, past the building manager's door and the mail boxes to hitting the steps outside his building. He felt the heat and humidity his face like the heat of an oven.
"Fuck" he muttered again.
He just needed to walk a couple blocks to a corner market. There were crowds of people out, all trying to savor the last warm day of the year. It only caused him more annoyance for him trying to navigate through the crown. He had to make sure no one bumped into his left side and noticed how his arm was different. That would not be good for either parties. Walking with a purpose he finally made it to the corner store. Walking in he grabbed a shopping basket and like a mission he began to methodically make a plan of attack. He needed fruit, bread, water, vegetables, rice, oatmeal, and chicken. He moved down each aisle he needed, grabbing some fruit first; oranges, bananas, and plumes. Next, he moved over to vegetables, broccoli, asparagus, onions, and peppers.
Ever aware of his surroundings Bucky felt eyes on him. He looked up to see a woman standing across from him, staring right at him, she looked to be in her mid-20s. When he made eye contact with her, she quickly looked away, cheeks turning red at being caught by him. Bucky knew he wasn't ugly but he didn't want attention this way. The reason why he kept his hair long and he facial hair unshaved. He wore worn plain clothes, nothing eye catching. He quickly began grabbing the what he had so far and made his way down the aisles that remained on his list. Chicken check, oatmeal check, bread check, he made his way to check out grabbing a 5 lbs. gallon filled water jug for his water dispenser. He stood in line ready to pay holding all his belonging.
"Wow you make that look easy" A voice said behind him.
Closing his eyes in regret, he was holding the water jug in one hand, his left hand. This wasn't something normal people could do. Fuck he thought, turning around slowly he was met with the same woman who he had caught staring at him earlier. This time he got a better look at her, she was wearing a tiny white tank top, not covering much. Wearing equally short black denim shorts and black shoes. Her outfit didn't leave much to the imagination, she had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall long cream white legs. She was beautiful no doubt about it, if it was back in the day, she would be a girl he would've chased after. But it wasn't, he didn't think nor act on that anymore, couldn't act on it.
"Hello?" She asked him.
Shit, he hadn't acknowledged her yet, he was just being a creep and staring at her. Quickly recovering he gave her one of his sly side smiles, it might have been a while since he had used it but he knew women always loved when he did that. About 80 years or so but he remembered how to charm women, while at least how to perceive at charming them.
"Sorry, I work out a bit, to impress those" he lied easily to her, throwing in a little wink to sell it.
It made her blush clearly buying his lie, internally he sighed.
"I can see that" she replied back smiling at him "My name is Erica" she stated holding out her hand for him.
Fucking hell, he couldn't shake her hand with his left hand, he put down his shopping basket freeing his right hand for her. He awkwardly backhanded shook her outstretched hand. This was terrible he thought. He noticed a small H intertwined with a lightning bolt tattooed on the inside of her wrist, unusual.
"Sorry cant put the water down, wouldn't be able to pick it up if I did" he joked to her.
Erica smiled at his fake playfulness.
"Sir are you ready?" A voice asked him.
Bucky turned around to see an elderly woman waiting on him behind the register. He turned back to Erica smiling and picking up his basket, proceeding to check out. He paid for his groceries quickly, he wanted to get back to his apartment to hide, this was enough social interaction for him.
"I didn't get your name" Erica called out to him.
Bucky was making his way out the market, he rolled his eyes. Because I didn't want to you, he mentally spoke to her. He turned back around with a smile on his face walking backwards.
"Maybe next time" he lied to her with a convincing smile.
Turning back quickly not giving her time to respond he made his way out of the market and back on the street. This time no one stood in his way walking home, they instead made it a point to give him room seeing as he was carrying a heavy object, he felt sweat running down his back from the heat, causing his shirt to stick to his skin. Reaching his buildings door, he juggled the bag of groceries while digging in his pocket for his keys. Unlocking the door he made his way up the stairs reaching his level with keys still in his hands he unlocked his door and entered his solitude.
Once inside and feeling safe he set his groceries down in his kitchen. He flipped his water jug on his dispenser. He purposedly unloaded his groceries putting the fruit and vegetables in the fridge. He placed the chicken in the freezer to keep it fresh, he moved back to place the rice and oatmeal in the cabinet next the fridge, the food would last him maybe a little over a week, depending how hungry he got.
Finally, he was able to pull off his jacket, dropping it on the counter, making his way over to his windows he peeled off his sweaty long sleeve shirt, leaving his chest bare, wearing only his faded jeans and his black boots. He made sure to keep his left side of his body hidden as he watched below him. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the skyscrapers. He watched the countless people walking below him, clueless to the assassin that watched them. How many people that had died from his hands, how many he could kill. People always seemed to busy to notice real threats, always talking, looking at their phones, worried about money, and working. Life was very strange to him.
"I don't know how you adjusted to this kind of lifestyle Steve" he said to no one.
Shaking his head, he turned away from the window to sit in front of his couch on the ground. With his back resting against it he closed his eyes. It had been a couple of days since he had slept. He felt tired, hoping he could at least get a couple hours of sleep. He wanted to disconnect from the world, from his mind. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend he was back before the war, back when he was just Bucky Barnes a womanizer and the defender of skinny best friend Steve Rogers.
Ro woke up early in the morning, turning her head slowly she looked at the clock sitting on her nightstand. It showed it glowing red letters 3 AM. She groaned, why did her mind wake her up this early? She shut her eyes tight willing herself to go back to sleep,
After about 5 minutes with no success, she groaned louder knowing it was pointless. She rolled out of bed silently cursing herself. She felt her bare feet hit her cold concrete floor, getting up she walked over to her bathroom, turning the unforgiving bright lights on. She blinked away the sleep from her eyes getting a full view of her tired reflection. She looked terrible, her hair a messy in a falling apart bun, giving her a wild look. There were dark circles under her eyes, looking back to her bird nest of a hair, she could still see plenty of blonde in it when she had dyed it a year ago. She had it a nice blonde balayage look when it was first styled, something her fiancé, no her ex-fiancé had asked her to do for him. She thought he had wanted her like that for their wedding, but she now knew it was because of another woman he had wanted it blonde. The woman he cheated on her wife, his boss. That pretty blonde hair bitch. She figured her ex wanted her to look like his boss to fantasize about. Ro caught them in their own bed… surprising him coming home early from work. Now the two love birds were engaged.
She turned her eyes to her body, taking her naked reflection in. No, she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't a knockout either. She held her own, she was someone you had to get to know to see her full beauty. Well, that's what she's been told anyways. She had natural brown wavy hair, light brown eyes, she liked to believe in certain lighting her eyes held a golden mix or light brown, yellow, and green in them. She had passable facial features, everything pretty proportionate, normal nose, ears, and face shape. She did have lips that men did compliment on her. But nothing eye stopping. She looked over her body, thinking again just passable, pretty average on her body. She didn't spend too much time looking at her waist, preferring not to. She was above average for her height, about 5'8 somewhat athletic, she had muscle but she also had stretch marks, cellulite normal things that every girl had who wasn't a model, famous or rich to pay to fix.
She jumped into her shower turning it on and letting the cold water hit her face willing her to fully wake. Getting her ready for another day.