#I told her I made a metal list then put Tears For Fears in it just to mess with her

[therandomfandomme]

Whenever I see Eddie, I have to think of my mom y'all. I'm sorry, but it's just so funny to me, lmao. My mom was an 80s metal fan. I currently have her leather jacket but the denim vest she wore over it with patches and pins, she keeps safe because it's still her precious after all these years. If my grandma hadn't stopped her she'd have a skull on her arm and a knuckle metal tattoo. She still listens to metal in her car and when she works. Right now she is a high school math teacher, who dresses like she could be in the PTA.

My mom literally turned from Eddie into Steve and it's the best thing ever XD

[swiftieblyth]

Troublesome Twin: Bombs

Warning list-

hunger games warning, abusive family, mother died in childbirth with the twins, Arachne, Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, violence, and murder.

I think that’s all, let me know if there’s more!

Word count- 2,211

“What?” Y/N gasped.

“Your mother and I worked together. The snakes were actually her idea.”

“But I thought these were new inventions…” 

“Yes, but your mother created them, back when she was pregnant with you and your sister. You see, your mother knew there were complications with her pregnancy and that she wasn’t going to make it, she just never told your father. She was worried about how he would react. So she asked me if I would be the godmother to the youngest baby if they were to survive. And my dear you did, you even escaped death yesterday. That tribute wanted you to have the same fate as your sister.”

“Wait, but if you are my godmother then why have you never come to talk to me?”

“My dear, your father found out that I was your godmother, and forbade me to see you.”

“But I don’t understand, I thought you were higher up than my father was… I thought you were close to the president… I thought…”

“My dear,” Dr. Gaul cut in. “Your father pays for all of my things. I wouldn’t be able to be the head gamemaker if it weren’t for him. And until someone else can pay for all my fundings, then I can’t see you after the games. I’m sorry my dear.”

“Love,” Coryo sighed, checking the time. “We need to get going. We have to get to the arena.”  

Coryo grabbed Y/N’s hand and guided her out to the front of the building, stopping when they got outside, to look down at her, and cup her face gently in his hands. “You okay?”

“She’s…” Y/N struggled. “My father… My mother… I…” A tear fell onto her cheek, but was quickly wiped away by Coryo. 

“Shh. Shh.” He breathed, pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Do you want to go home? Get some rest.”

“I just want to be with you.”

“Okay my love. How’s your shoulder?”

“It hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

Coryo let out a sigh, pulling away from her, but still holding her close. “Okay, my love. Just tell me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“All right, let’s go,” a peacekeeper called as they made their way to the arena. Coryo could feel the fear rising in Y/N and held her closer to him. The only time he let her go was as they entered the terminal, but was still holding her hand. 

“Enjoy the show.” They heard a voice echo, making Y/N shiver as Coryo pulled her back to his side. “Enjoy the show.”

Lucy Gray also noticed the fear in Y/N and reached out to grab her hand. Y/N took it with a grateful smile. Feeling bad that she was the one being comforted. 

“Welcome to the arena for the 10th annual Hunger Games,” a male voice said through the speakers. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

“Coriolanus, Y/N, please don’t let me die in here tomorrow,” Lucy Gray begged after a few minutes. 

All of a sudden they heard a weird noise and before they knew it bombs started to go off. 

Everyone started screaming and running around, trying to get out of the arena. Coryo grabbed Y/N’s hand and started running to the exit, but before he knew it he saw something on fire about to fall on them and pushed Y/N out of the way. 

Coryo grunted in pain as it fell on his back. “Coryo!” Y/N yelled, running over to him, trying to get him free, hissing at the pain when it burned her hands. 

“No!” Coryo called. “Get out of here!”

“Not without you!” Y/N cried. “I’m not safe without you! Help! Somebody help!” As Y/N tried to free Coryo another piece of debris fell on Y/N. The impact immediately knocked her out before she even hit the ground.

“Y/N!” Coryo screamed. “Help! Somebody help!” 

Lucy Gray came rushing over and went to Coryo not seeing Y/N. She groaned in pain but was able to get him free. As soon as he was free he rushed up, putting the fire on his shoulder out as he went running for Y/N. 

He lifted the metal off of her and cradled her in his arms. Sucking in his breath at the sight of all the bruises and blood all over her face. Along with her shoulder, no doubt her stitches popped.

There was a small groan as Coriolanus opened his eyes, meeting his worried cousin’s eyes. “Coryo,” she smiled softly.

“Y/N?” He asked. “Is she…”

“She’s all right,” Tigris explained, gesturing to the bed next to Coryo. “She’s right there. She hasn’t woken up yet. But she’s going to be okay.”

“What happened?”

“It was a rebel bombing,” Sejanus explained. “They must have been planning for months. Four tributes were killed.”

“Everyone's terrified, Coryo.” Tigris cut back in. “People are locking themselves inside their houses. Felix Ravinstill’s on life support.”

“The rebels released a message. They said they wanted to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games on live TV.” Sejanus explained. 

Coryo tried to get up, but gave out a groan. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Tigris asked, gently, holding her cousin’s hand.

“Y/N. I want to see her.”

“Coryo,” Tigris breathed. “Coryo, she's still asleep.”

“I want to see her. Help me up, please.”

“Coryo, she’s pretty banged up.” Tigris breathed. “She’s going to be okay, she just…” Tigris was cut off by Coryo making his way off the bed. 

He felt his heart break at the sight of Y/N. She was asleep on the bed with bandages, bruises, and dried blood all over her whole body. Tigris and Sejanus helped Coryo walk over to her and sit in the chair next to her, as Lucky kept talking on the TV.

“Marcus got out,” Sejanus explained, as Coryo grabbed Y/N hands in his. “He’s the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets, but at least he’s got a better shot out there than he would tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”  Coriolanus asked, looking away from Y/N to look up at Sejanus. “They’re not still going along with the Games? Oh no, Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray could’ve run. But she saved Y/N and me. She saved us.”

“And now, for our final tribute,” Lucky said on the TV. “I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District 12… Lucy Gray Baird! Come out here with that guitar, you songbird.” 

As Lucy Gray made her way onto the screen, Coryo carefully let go of Y/N’s hands and got up, walking to the TV with the help of Sejanus.

“Good evening, Capital, Districts.” Lucy Gray said. “First I just want to thank one of my mentors, Y/N Crane, for letting me borrow her guitar, so I can play for you all tonight. I don’t know if she can hear this, or if she’s even watching but I do hope she and my other mentor, Coriolanus Snow are okay.”

“We are,” Coryo breathed.

“I wrote this song about a boy back in 12, and I hope he hears it.”

“When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

When I was a girl I fell into your arms

We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

You went to the dogs and I lived by the charms

It’s sooner than later that I’m six feet under

It’s sooner than later that you’ll be alone

So who will you turn to

Tomorrow, I wonder

For when the bell rings Lover, you’re on your own

I’m the one who you let see you weeping

I know the soul that you struggled to save

Too bad I’m the bet that you lost at the Reaping

Now what will I do

When I go to me grave” Lucy Gray finished and everyone started cheering, as Lucky started talking again.

Tigris was sitting with Y/N when she felt her hand twitch. “Coryo,” Tigris called. “I think she’s waking up.”

As fast as he could with the help of Sejanus Coryo walked over to her, and sat where Tigris was just sitting, putting his hands on Y/N’s watching as she slowly fluttered her eyes open.

Y/N let out a small groan as she opened her eyes to see Coryo looking down at her. She could see the worry in his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “Coryo?” She asked.

“Hi, my love,” he smiled, brushing some hair out of her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible. What happened?”

“It was a rebel bombing my love. You took a pretty big hit.”

“Is Lucy Gray okay?”

“She’s okay, my love.”

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, looking to see that he was in a matching gown, fear creeping in her face. 

“I’m okay, honey. I’m okay.” Coryo soothed, gently stroking her head, careful of the gashes and the bandage covered in blood on the left side of her forehead. Footsteps were heard coming their way. Y/N tensed up at the sound. “What is it, my love?”

“I…Is it my father?” Y/N quivered. 

“It’s not.” Sejanus let out, walking to see who was coming their way. “It’s your brother.”

“Where is she?” Eiran asked, when he got to Sejanus. 

“She’s right there.” Sejanus explained, motioning to Y/N.

“Y/N/N,” Eiran breathed, walking to her. Relife washing over his face as he saw his youngest (and last living sister) awake. Severely injured but awake and going to be okay.

“Eiran,” Y/N smiled trying to get up. She quickly regretted it as a sharp pain spread through her torso. She started coughing up blood with tears rushing to her eyes, unable to catch her breath.

“Love,” Coryo let out, fear coming to his face, as he tried to gingerly set Y/N up right, as more blood came out of her mouth.

“Doctor! Eiran yelled. “We need a doctor!”

Coryo and Tigris got Y/N sitting up straight and propped her up against her pillows as the coughing started to slow down.

A nurse walked up and looked at them, she made her way over to Y/N and gave her a cup of water. “Drink some. It will help.”

Y/N weakly took the cup, taking a shaky breath, the cup shaking in her hands. “Here,” Coryo let out, carefully taking the cup from her. “Let me do it.”

“Shouldn’t you be in your own bed?” The nurse asked, a frown on her face.

“I need to make sure my girlfriend’s okay.” Coryo smiled, as Y/N finished taking a sip. 

“Your girlfriend will be fine,” the nurse explained, taking the water cup from Y/N, and setting it down on the table as she gave her some morphling. “She’s on the better end of the severe injuries from the bombing.”

“What do you mean better end?” Y/N asked. “Who else is hurt?”

“It doesn’t matter right now, Y/N/N,” Tigris let out, walking over to her.

“How bad are her injuries?” Eiran asked.

“She busted open her stitches that were already there, so we re-did that. However she does have a light case Hemothorax.”

“What’s that?” Y/N asked, fear growing in her eyes, as she squeezed Coryo’s hand. 

“During the bombing you tore an artery and part of your lung, causing blood to then accumulate in the space between the two layers of tissues that cover your lungs, causing a large amount of blood to press against your lung.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Sejanus asked.

“Yes. Miss. Crane will be fine. Before everyone got here, and while Mr. Snow was asleep, we inserted a chest tube to remove all of the blood, and let the lung start healing properly. You are responding very well, and thankfully not too much blood was lost.”

“When can I go home?”

“We’d prefer it if you’d stay the night tonight, so we can keep a close eye on you. And as long as nothing else happens, you should be able to be released just in time for the Games. A nurse is working on contacting your father, is there anyone else you would like us to contact?’

“No!” Y/N yelled, fear rushing back. “No! Please don’t tell my father. Coryo, Eiran, please!” She begged, tears streaming down her face. 

“Sh, sh, darling,” Coryo cooed, stroking her head. “Calm down. We won’t let him come near you.”

“Do you have to tell our father?” Eiran asked.

“Well, he owns her. No other legal adult does, unless you were given that authority. “

“I wasn’t, but please, don’t let him near her. If you have to tell him, then please, at the very least don’t let him near her.”

“I’ll do my best. Now, you need to get some rest, Miss. Crane. And you, Mr. Snow, you can go home whenever you like.” The nurse stated, then walked away. 

“Will someone stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t. I’m going to be right here with you. 

[desswright29]

Brick District (Prolouge)

Synopsis: To say life was rough for young Shuri would be an understatement. An only child to a Mother suffering from leukemia she had to figure out a way to survive very young. A job at the vibranium mines led her to you. Her Amanzi (water), from that moment on the two of you were attached at the hip. You did everything, and were even excepted into the most prestigious college in Wakanda together. That is until Shuri lands herself into some serious trouble, causing a series of unfortunate events. Will you be down for the ride?

A/n: Random idea. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you guys want more of Shuri and her Amanzi! ☺️

Hand on my heart I swear I made peace with the rain Peace with the rain Now I dance with the pain

Stepping inside the cold concrete room, the clanking of metal followed by a thundering slam followed behind you. Your heart beat rapidly against your sternum, fear weighing heavily on your shoulders. 

“Box 3!” The officer directed you sternly. Your eyes instantly scan the room for the number painted thick upon the concrete walls, until you spotted it approximately twelve steps ahead of you. 

One, two, three. Breathe, just breathe y/n. Six, seven, eight. You’re safe, the officers are here for your protection. Eleven, tweleeeve…thirteen. Damnit just one off. 

Anxiously, you sat in the chair infront of you, staring at the empty seat on the other side of the glass. Putting up a front of calm, your rhythmically bouncing leg, the traitor to your true feelings. Anxiety. A loud buzzing and a click snapped you out of your thoughts, your body literally jolting slightly out of your seat. 

Damnit girl get a grip. 

Two officers walk into the room, one holding the door as the other led out a line of inmates. Instinctively, your eyes trained on your hands, fiddling with your fingers, as the dragging of feet, and rattle of chains continued to pass you by. Until, it came to a stop. Beautifully veined hands with bruised knuckles, placed together by silver bracelets on each delicate wrist, entered your line of sight. Your gaze continue to trail up her body until they settled on her face. 

A soft gasp left your mouth. Contusions littered her beautiful face. But, the long cut right underneath the apple of her left cheek garnered the majority of your attention, her fuzzy braids were second on the list. She was always very well put together. Your heart ached seeing her this way. The officer removed the cuffs from her wrist, as she tried to stifle the look of agony on her face m, while she slowly attempted to sit. A lump formed in your throat as you blinked back tears. Reaching forward, she grabbed the phone and you followed her lead. Leaning forward onto the table in front of her, she placed her cut bottom lip into her mouth. Wetting it before looking up at you through hooded lids. 

“I thought I told you not to come here?” Words escaped you as you continued to stare, trying to find a way to speak without breaking. You had to be strong for her.

“Don’t look at me like that, bhabha.” You nervously avert your gaze, clearing your throat before speaking.

“You knew I was coming to see you regardless. I’ve always been a bit hard headed…..W-wha-“

“It’s prison y/n. Shit happens.” Irritation coated her words as she cleared her throat, slouching back into her chair.  “You shouldn’t be here. You have shit to do.”

“I had to lay eyes on you… make sure you’re alright. My bags are packed, I’m ready!” The corners of your mouth peeked upwards yet your eyes remained sad, as you attempt to bring some sort of light to the conversation. “Can’t find a box big enough to fit all my shoes though.” Chuckling nervously you search Shuri’s eyes. Looking for some of the light that she’d had outside of these walls, you were met simply with a darkness that ran to her core. Your friend was hurting, and there was nothing you could do.

“Hmph.” Her attempt at a laugh fell flat as her gaze lingered on the floor in front of her. “Have to have those shoes.” It looked as though it pained her to speak. Her hand rubbed absentmindedly at her side. Had she unzipped her jumpsuit and lifted her wife beater, you would’ve been met with a large black and purple bruise. “I’ll still take care of that while you’re in university. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

“Hey, you already know!’ And I’ll be fine. You just worry about being safe in here…please.” The elephant in the room began to stomp on your chest as you prepared to ask your next question, “how long?” 

“That’s how it’s been since we met mama. It won’t change because I’m in this shithole.” Shuri finally makes direct eye contact with you, and your stomach flips. Your gazes linger on eachother before Shuri speaks up again. “I took a plea. Minimum of four years since I don’t have any priors. I could probably cut some time with good behavior. 

“F-four years!” Your thoughts began a vicious attack on your nervous system, gnawing its way through your quivering lips. Four years without Shuri? What did that look like for you? 

“But you’ve never been in any trouble! You’re only eighteen for bast sake. Four!”

“Calm yourself. It’s light for everything they found on me when they got me.” For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. Twiddling your thumbs, not knowing what else to say.

“Bast, I-I’m going to miss you.” You finally broke the thick wall of tention building. “I’ll make sure to visit all the time, and-and I’ll write letters! Lots of them! And when you call…I’ll tell you everythi-“

"Hhayi. Do not come back here y/n. Im serious. You're on your way to the most prestigious University in our country. We worked hard for this. Write me. I'll call. But don't come back." She stared into your eyes intent with getting her point across.

“Fine, Aja.” You accompany your attitude with a swift eye roll. “…We were just… supposed to do this together, you know? I can’t imagine doing this with out you. Shit. I don’t even know if I’m capable.” You instantly regretted admitting what’s been bothering you about going to school. You two talked about this for years only for it to be snatched away just like that. You can’t even remember what life was like without Shuri, and you didn’t want to. 

Shuri’s tongue rolls over her bruised bottom lip, her brows furrowed reading you like a book as always. “Yo, what’s up? What did you really come here to say.” All the beating around the bush finally caught up to you. 

“I mean… I can always just start basics at the community college down the way.” The fiddling with your fingers begins yet again in an attempt to avoid Shuri’s dagger-like glare. “A-at least until you’re out of here, then we can figure out away to do this together.” 

“Fuck no! I’m not trying to hear that. You think Bishops Diocesan is going to ever allow me to step foot onto their campus after this!? We worked too hard for you to give it up? Why!?  So you can sit her and babysit me!?”

“Shuri! WE!! WE worked so hard, I-“ *holds in a sob* “…I can’t go, not without you. I’m not supposed to do this by myself.” 

“Hey!” Shuri spoke up, sitting up straight in her seat. Demanding your undivided attention. “Yiyeke (stop it), I taught you better than that mtwana. I fucked up. I got caught up and ruined my own future. MINE Y/N! Im not allowing you to ruin yours just so you can visit me in prison every other weekend. Life moves on and you need to flow with it. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’m not giving you a choice. You’ve got to do this. Live out our dream. For me.”

You could no longer control your tears. “This isn’t fair Shuri. Life’s never fair to you! We almost made it. We were almost out of the Mines, out of Brick district, and this bullshit happens! You deserve this more than me. You’re a fucking genius! We were so fucking close.” 

“Stop that! No more tears. Yooou made it baby. That’s enough for me. Don’t wait up for me. Live your life.” 

“Wrap it up! 5 minutes!” The guards yelled signaling that your time with the girl that you loved much more than either of you had ever had the chance to say, was coming to a close for the next four years. Now was the time.

“Shuri- I um…” You started timidly. She shook her head.

“Yea..I know. Not now though. I can’t handle that now. Tell me when we’re face to face again..” You nod tearfully. 

“Times up people!” For the first time during your visit Shuri gave you a half smile.

“Go to school. Send pictures.” She placed the phone back on the hook not giving you time enough to reply. She gave you a wink, and mouthed “My rider,” with a fist to her chest. Before she stood to her feet, once again holding back a grimace as an officer stepped up to place her back into her cuffs.

You sat with the phone still pressed against your ear as they took her away. Back behind the indestructible vibranium doors. 

“Ndiyakuthanda Shuri wam. Forever I’ll ride.”

As Shuri was walked backed to her cell the mixture of compliments and insults sailed her way. “Baby bird” was her least favorite. It spoke to not only her stature, but to her inability to protect herself here. She was in more trouble than she’d let on to you. 

She was caught with copious amounts of a strain of Wakandan Cocain laced with vibranium from the mine she’d worked for. It was of her own making. She’d sold the idea to her boss N’jadaka, but everyone called him Killmonger. The product was swiped when they took her in and the money had been spent for her mothers treatments. She was not only taking heat from the police. But, from Killmongers goons. She had a debt to pay. 

Her cuffs were removed, and she was roughly placed in her cell. She looked around the six by six room, no longer able to hold on to the tears. She laid onto her steal bunk rolling over onto her side. She placed her pillow to her mouth as she got into fetal position and bawled into her pillow. There was not one inch of her body that wasn’t in pain. They’d taken all of her commissary. And someone had even swiped her bedding. 

A pained groan left her lips. As she sighed. Sitting up she stared at the door to her cell. Her new life, her full ride scholarship, and future career as a scientist were flushed down the toilet at the snap of a finger. This was her life now. In order to survive she would have to put you and who she could’ve been in the past. No more weakness. It was time to woman up and make peace with the RAIN!

@udakuwilliams

[cabaallias]

Cant sleep, so in the meantime, have this Michael Afton drabble/character study that's mainly focused in a self-reflection/flashback to the Bite of '83. I did it a few years ago. It was just sitting in my ipad doing nothing and I'm actually pretty proud of it :]

------

“And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.”

Michael frowned as he sat in the cramped security office. The temperature is rising to sweltering heats. Metal started to soften and the beginnings of a crackle of electrical fire picked up from beyond the room. As Henry Emily spoke on, the decrepit man thought back on his life.

His childhood was less than good, and Michael had been less than bad. His father had been a resilient, apathetic man. He didn’t show any emotion to his late wife nor children if it was not for show or ridicule. He was prone to cruel words and physical punishments for his kids while Clara was drained from his manipulation and take, take, take, never give attitude. It consequently lead to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).. It consequently led to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).

After that, William seemed to turn his sights on his first son. The remarks were subtle, but just jarring enough to reverberate in Michael’s head. The cruelty turned from outright cold disgust to bittersweet; micro aggressions that couldn’t be picked up by anyone outside the Afton household, if it could even be called that. The physical punishments varied in occurrence and eventually was replaced by those poignant words. Sometimes he wished that his father would just beat him like he used to, because then he wouldn’t be forced to doubt his father’s hatred towards him.

It went on for years like that. William always favored his first daughter and youngest son. Elizabeth was a rather sassy and demanding girl. She could command a room like her father and she had the stubbornness to match in volume. That stubbornness eventually got her killed by an animatronic that was modeled to the likeliness of her. It was, ironically, made by the father.

Evan had caught a glimpse of what happened from behind a corner. He had told Michael after a full night of terrors. His dark brown eyes were clouded and glassy from the tears that streamed down his blotched face. His brother had always been a bit of a crybaby, but he was never this bad. He never sobbed so loudly to the point Michael had to cover his mouth to keep William from hearing, because then they both would be in trouble for waking him at 6 am. The boy cried about torn, rotting versions of the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza animatronics. About metal claws that shone, but definitely had rust. About a finger-trap plush of Spring Bonnie from Fredbear’s Family Diner. About how his Fredbear plush would never comfort, only offer somber, semi-compressible advise. Michael had, of course, consoled Evan during the aftermath of his night-terrors, but had left him to his fearful devices.

Meanwhile, the subtle grip his father had on him began to tighten to the near point of suffocation. William whispered about Elizabeth’s death to him in passing. Like it was a regular conversation. About how he should have been watching her. How it was his fault she was gripped by Circus Baby’s claw and dragged into the stomach hatch to compress her bones and organs into a bloody mess. How he would pay for letting it happen, but not yet. It wasn’t time. I have something planned for you, dear son.

Michael could feel himself be put under the scrutiny of his father. It was like a chained collar made of electric barbed wire that would fire off if he swallowed, shallow or not. It made his anxiety and depression worsen and turn into an especially cruel form of bullying that targeted anything that made him feel like curling up into a ball and wasting away like some pitiful creature (That made him want to give in to his father’s ministrations). Sadly, his main subject turned into his younger brother. The way he cried and sobbed about Elizabeth and his nightmares made Michael feel sympathetic, but it was the way he garnered positive attention from their father was what made him want to (give up) pummel Evan. So, he began to play his cruel jokes on the boy. He tore the Foxy plush’s head off. He bought a Foxy mask to jumpscare him with because he remembered that Evan was the most afraid of the Foxy that appeared in his nightmares. Evan eventually stopped coming to him in the early mornings and William had begun to tell him how Michael was growing to be just like him (no, no, no, no, no, no).

Michael’s biggest regret was his final prank.

It was preceded by 5 days of torturing Evan in the cold, mechanical-like walls of their home. He remembers locking him in Parts and Service at Fredbear’s during that week and jumping out at him in various rooms. He vividly remembers surrounding the poor, tired, tortured boy at Fredbear’s Family Diner with his equally cruel friends. Each had on their own mask from Freddy Fazbear’s. They each had taken a limb into a strong grasp and dragged the shaking, sobbing boy towards the stage. Fredbear’s gold fur shone in the lights that had seemed just a bit too bright that day. The rabbit, Spring Bonnie, plucked at the strings of his banjo while his green eyes seemed to be staring into the soul of Michael. It made him think of his father, who had always favored the rabbit over the bear. It made him quiver with fear and he could feel the barbed collar around his neck again. The barbs pressed into his veins and all it did was squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that they’re at the edge of the stage - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that his friends (acquaintances) agree to lift Evan up to Fredbear (Evan had crawled into his bed that morning, crying silently that a creature resembling a twisted, shadowy Fredbear had nearly bitten his head off with the mouth on its stomach (stomach hatch) and almost torn him in half with its claws while laughing cruelly. It sounded like demented radio static, Mikey, it was terrible) - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice Evan pleading for his life while he is shoved head first into (Nightmare’s) Fredbear’s mouth - and squeeze (he promised Evan that he wouldn’t let anything bite or tear him apart that morning (you’re just like me, Mikey)) -

The deafening crunch of Evan’s skull made everyone in the diner fall silent. Michael notices the blood gushing from the animatronic’s mouth and pooling onto the floor. The gold dyed red as Spring Bonnie chuckled and stilled in his movements. Someone had puked, there’s multiple screaming, everyone is snatching their kids up and taking them outside, someone is calling the police.

Those green eyes settled on Michael. He didn’t see an animatronic, but rather, he saw his father. Cruel light hidden behind a facade of goodwill. Overpowering, commanding listen to me, listen to me, only to me or you’ll regret it.

He can feel his brother’s blood on him. It coated his arms, the damned Foxy mask, the front of his shirt. Some of it dripped into the mask and on his face. His eyes are trained on the limp body of Evan, who was slowly beginning to slid out of Fredbear’s mouth. The blood made the passage slick and quick once he reached the edge of Fredbear’s teeth. The innocent, tortured, tired, dead boy fell into Michael’s still outstretched arms. His… head… dear god it’s basically gone. The gray matter’s fluid and blood stained the messy chestnut brown hair and ran down his body like some morbid shower. Bits of cracked skull stuck out of the mush and tangled in the matting hair. Michael’s mask fell off; the flimsy string having snapped. And it was like he could see clearly now. He did this. He allowed this to happen. He killed Evan. He killed him. He killed him. It’s his fault. His throat is closed up and is choking him of air. The eyes of Spring Bonnie, William Afton, his father, gleamed down onto him. His eyes rolled back into his skull and he fainted, still holding the little brother he tortured in his bloody arms.

[red-riding-wood]

OC: Charlotte Griffin

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Summary: Charlotte Griffin, on a quest to emerge from her family's dark shadow, becomes a spy in a gang war that puts her loyalties and desires into question as she grows closer to the man who is meant to be her enemy.

WARNINGS for whole story: eventual explicit sexual content and references, explicit violence and gore, mentions of physical abuse, language, ethnic slurs (mainly because of Alfie) AN: If anyone wants to be on the tag list for this story, Peaky Blinders, or my stuff in general please let me know!

And also, yes, Charlotte is from London! I'm so annoyed that I forgot to mention that in the first two chapters lol.

“Your coat, Miss Griffin?”

“I’m all right, thank you,” I said, lace-clad fingers settling over the buttons on my black coat as if to protect them. It was a subtle enough motion that I hoped they didn’t notice, but it wasn’t Luca’s men that made me worry. Perhaps it had been Luca’s words; they were crawling beneath my skin still and seeming to tear apart every layer just as his gaze had.

“You will make a good spy. You even lie to yourself.”

Darkness swallowed me whole, nearly sweeping the air from my lungs, tightening around my chest and sinking into my wary gaze as the men shut the door behind them, locking me in the room that smelled of a cold dampness that cut straight through the fabric of my coat and slid across the marrow of my bones.

I wanted to ask for Luca, but they were already gone; my knuckles rapped against the iron doors in a lonely echo and the hinges rattled against a lock as I tried the handles.

It was quiet, save for the high, squealing sound of something metal swinging back and forth, back and forth, back… and forth.

As the creaking slowed, my heartrate increased, blood burning beneath cold flesh. But I had told Luca I had nothing to fear, and so I turned to face the blackness.

The click of my heels against the concrete nearly shattered my ears, and the dust that they stirred tickled my lungs as I stepped forward into the unknown, my eyes adjusting only slightly to make out the shape of a desk in the center of what must have been an abandoned warehouse. I could detect the trace of wood shavings past the damp, musty air now.

A shrill ring burst in the silence as my feet stilled, and a jolt coursed through me, my lips parting to expel a shaky breath. Above me, the still-swinging lamp flickered to life, illuminating the desk and the ringing phone in a faded, almost warm light.

My breath hitched in my chest, and my fingers sought the ends of the ribbon at my neck.

Some of my sewing supplies were scattered around the phone, white ribbon unravelled across the desk and brushing across photographs of a young man. In one, he held hands with a young girl, a thread of ribbon that matched the bow around her neck poking from the sleeve of his coat. Neither smiled at the camera. But they stood close. The light above me was swinging, off-kilter, from side to side, illuminating one half of their faces and then the next.

The phone kept ringing, but my fingers drifted across the photographs and fastened around the handle of a small, engraved mirror. My mirror, that I used to apply my cosmetics in the morning.

The Changrettas had ransacked my hotel room. But for what? To remind me of the brother I had lost? To play mind games? Had they found out about my involvement with the Shelbys?

“What are you running from, Miss Griffin?”

A cold shiver ran down my spine as Luca’s words came to me once more, and as I lifted the mirror to glimpse my ashen features, the grey eyes that stared back at me brewed like storm clouds.

The phone continued to ring, and my fingers tightened around the mirror, my nostrils flaring and my breath quickening.

I picked it up on the last ring.

“Charlotte. Charlotte, this had better be you.”

The voice on the other end set my spine rigid, and my breathing stopped. My shaking fingers tightened around the mirror.

“Charlotte?”

I swallowed against the knot that had fastened in my throat. The mirror clattered to the desk.

I was back in my manor, my father’s voice echoing down the halls as he called to me. His knuckles would be bloody, the stench of sweat on him beneath the overwhelming scent of cologne, and he would be asking me for dinner, or to stitch up a torn shirt. And I would wonder which one of my brothers would show up to the table that night with bruises on his wrists.

It only made it worse when I hid. No one would be fed, and sometimes, I thought he really would bring the belt across my wrist. But I had needed to be presentable, to be perfect. I was like a token. A doll. Something pretty to draw in attention, something expensive to hawk off to the highest bidder when they came along.

“Father.” My voice came out strangulated around the ever-growing knot in my throat.

“I’ve been calling all over Birmingham for you, darling. And to hear your voice because the bloody Changrettas gave me this number. You sicken my heart, Charlotte.”

“I must be truly wicked to sicken a blackened heart,” I murmured icily, gaze unfocusing somewhere on the dingy wall.  

“Are you being held for ransom? Charlotte, I must know.”

“I’m here of my own accord,” I said. “I’m working with the Changrettas. And you will not interfere.”

“Come home, darling. The Changrettas are dangerous. So are the Shelbys. And all the Gypsies in that shithole. I don’t want you walking those streets. Come back to London. I miss you. We all miss you.”

“Stop this. Let me go,” I told him, my fingers clutching the ribbon at my neck.

“Let you go? You are my daughter. How can you ask that of me?”

I closed my eyes, a tear pricking at the corner of one. His voice was sweet – deceptively so –, calm yet almost broken. As if I really had sickened his heart.

“Come home, Charlotte. We can still celebrate the holidays. You haven’t even seen your gift yet. You’d love it, you would.”

I bit my tongue, because something in that tone was warm, reaching honeyed tendrils around my own heart. And his words brought back a memory, of a New Years Eve years ago.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, fingers tracing over the engravings of the gold mirror. I looked up at my father, eyes wide, lips parted, something splitting in my chest, opening to him, warming to him despite the ice that had built inside. “But Christmas is over, Father. Why the gift?”

His hand rested along my upper back, and he smiled, eyes twinkling. “Because you’re my daughter, Charlotte. I love you,” he said.

My own lips pulled into my own bittersweet smile, and I set the mirror on the table beside us where I had been sewing up a hole in one of my brother’s garments. And I buried my face in his chest, my small arms wrapping around him.

A chuckle rumbled beneath me, and his thumb stroked the back of my head. “Don’t tell the boys,” he said. “They might be jealous, now.”

I stiffened, my smile falling slowly on my face. I wanted to ask if he loved them, too. Wanted to ask if that meant that he would stop hurting them.

“Now, I have to be going, darling,” he said, pulling away before I could. “I have a meeting to attend. With a potential suitor for you.”

I deflated, pulling away rather quickly from him now, my smile turning into a scowl and my chest sealing, locking my heart away in ice.

“I don’t want to be married, Father,” I told him.

Fingers wound their way through the hair at the base of my scalp and tightened. So did his false smile.

“The Hoffmans are a very powerful family, Charlotte. A family that we desperately need an alliance with at this time. And you will not ruin this one, too.” His fingers pulled at the threads of my hair, and a tear pricked my eye.

As I found myself pawing gingerly at the back of my scalp, as if still feeling the ghost of the burn, I looked down at the mirror on the desk. Part of me wanted to shatter it, to be rid of everything he had ever touched. But I knew that I wouldn’t. I knew that I wouldn’t, because when I looked at it, sometimes I was reminded of the hope I had felt that day, the warmth that had enveloped my heart in that brief time that he had hugged me and he had felt like a father to me.

A tear fell against the wooden grain of the desk, and I said, voice quiet, “I haven’t forgotten why I left, Father. And I’m not coming back.”

Silence. The lamp above me swung, gently, crying out in the stale air.

The tone that now met my ears was far from honeyed; venom brewed beneath growling baritones as he said, “Then you will not forget who you are, Charlotte. You are a Griffin. And you belong with your family.”

“It sickens my heart to think of you as my family.” My fingers trembled around the phone.

“You’re a traitor,” he growled at me. “Just like your twin brother.”

My breath shattered against the microphone, and my teeth gritted. My eyes darted to the boy in the photographs, to the inkling of fear in his gaze. The room felt colder, as if a draft from a blizzard had made its way through the derelict walls. 

I slammed the phone down, and attempted to even my feverish breath as I heard the hinges of doors creak behind me and footsteps fall across the concrete.

I picked up the mirror again, taking in the way my bloodshot eyes seemed to bleed red into my freckled cheeks, the way the mascara of one ashen lash had been swept away by my tear.

A black hat appeared in my reflection behind me, and the trace of ambrette wafted to me past the damp air. I whirled, letting shaking fingers set the mirror on the desk behind me as I glared at Luca’s approaching figure, at the toothpick that he chewed at between his teeth, at the serpentine gaze that scored two holes through me.

“Not running from anything, uh?” he said, as his footsteps brought him to a halt several feet from me, and he tilted his head slightly, though beyond that he was still, save for the damned toothpick.

“What was the point in this?” I hissed. “Why did you contact him?”

A dark brow quirked, and he said, “A father worries for his daughter. And I wanted to know if this wasn’t some setup.”

“Why this?” I grabbed a fistful of the ribbon, nearly yanking the spool to the floor. “Why the photographs? What else have you taken?”

Luca’s eyes spared me only to glance to the ribbon at my neck for a second or two, and then dragged slowly back to meet my gaze. His lip quirked around the toothpick. “You were right about the funeral, mia piccola spia. But you did not tell me about the Gypsies.”

“Gypsies?” My brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “I didn’t know about any Gypsies.”

Luca’s smirk fell, and for a moment, he drew his attention to his toothpick, smacking his lips and bringing it to the dim light of the still-swing lamp. He turned it in his hand, slowly, as if it was more interesting than our current discussion. “They killed two of my men. Snipers.” He settled the toothpick back between his teeth and slowly dragged his serpent gaze to me again. “I knew there would be guards, but I wasn’t expecting an ambush.”

“Thomas never told me that there would be Gypsies. The information I gave you was all I knew.” I held his gaze firm, a knot in my brow. My fingers still quivered around the ribbon in my hands. “Now answer my questions.”

His brows raised, and that devious smirk reappeared. Pale greens darted down to my neck and then sank back into my wary gaze. “I will if you tell me the significance of that ribbon round your neck.”

My throat tightened, and my hands shook. I slid my father’s mirror into the breast of my coat and stuffed the photographs of Alexander and the spool in my pockets as I said, “I’m leaving. And I’m staying at the Shelby Inn from now on.” I started forward, aiming to walk past him, and said pointedly, “It even has a piano.”

An arm was brought to my chest, and though I could’ve taken my chances and tried to shove past, I halted, my breath hitching in my chest.

Luca’s fingers curled around my bicep, rings biting into the sleeve of my coat. “I thought you didn’t run,” he said.

“And I will not be held captive, either.”

“I am not holding you captive.” His fingers relaxed, and his hand lowered, but I didn’t budge. I waited for him to speak, because there was something about Luca Changretta that, despite his impudence, made me want to listen. And not a syllable was lost on him; he dragged out each word in such a hiss that I couldn’t tell anymore if it soothed or unnerved me. “The Shelby Inn is on the other side of town. Dangerous there. Crawling with lowlifes. I can get you a damn piano if you that’s what you want.”

I set him with the closest thing I could muster to a glare, and said, “What I want is to not have you rummaging about in my belongings. And calling my family. And interfering in business that isn’t your own.”

A dark brow cocked. “Rich, coming from a piccola spia.”

“And if I am to be your spy, Luca Changretta, then I ask that there will be no more games.”

He didn’t say anything for what must have been an eternity, but something danced in the pale green of his eyes, glittered in their flecks of gold.

“We’ll see,” he said at last, and I started for the door, my shoulder brushing his, but his voice stopped me once more.

“Here,” he said, and I turned to see him procure something from his pocket with his left hand, the hand that bore the ink of a chain. “Your key, Miss Griffin.”

As I reached for my hotel key, his palm burning hot beneath the lace of my glove, I looked him dead in the eye and said firmly, “It’s Charlotte.”

“Very well.” He smirked, and let his toothpick fall to the dusty floor. “Charlotte.”

And even as I turned, and left him behind, I could not ignore the trace of ambrette that followed me, stirring something in my gut that begged for me to turn back despite every other instinct screaming at me to put as much distance between the two of us as I could.

---

The water ran dark in the canal. There weren’t that many views in Birmingham worth visiting, and Charlie’s yard wasn’t exactly full of wonder, but it was about as far from the Changrettas as I could be, and it was peaceful, save for the background noise of workers.

The wind swept at my hair, teasing the fine threads from my shoulders. I pulled my coat tighter around my chest, but let it buffet my thighs. The events of the day were playing in my head as the sun began to dip into the late afternoon – the image of John Shelby’s carriage pulled by black geldings laying the foundation for the Italian bodies that were carried back in the same carriage, interwoven by images of the phone in the warehouse, the creak of the lamp, the growl of my father’s voice.

My father had held a funeral for Alexander, when I returned from New York. But it was all for show; my tears were the only ones that had stained the earth that day – my father with none to shed and my brothers too stoic or perhaps too fearful to let their emotions deceive them—, and now, years later, I found myself haunted by John’s face, as if it had been in that empty casket all along. Perhaps I wished I would’ve been at the funeral, that in watching the Shelby be laid to rest that I could imagine the casket back in London to not be empty, that if I were to exhume it, I would find the ribbon tied around the bone of Alexander’s wrist.

But my brother’s corpse was somewhere across the ocean, along with his half of the ribbon. And call it a twin’s intuition, but some part of my soul could sense its absence. A piece of that very same soul had been ripped from me the moment I had seen him bludgeoned by those men in America.

And Luca. Luca, and his dark aura that seemed to draw me to him as if I had been spellbound by a witch. Luca, and his insufferable wit and his beautiful Italian words. Luca, and his hallowed step and his unholy touch. I could not seem to relieve my thoughts of him, nor did I find myself wanting to. The man I would see to his grave was the man I seemed to, beyond no other tangible thing, crave. If only to dance with him again, if only to feel his gaze on me again, to feel it reach to the buried part of my soul that gleamed too bright to exhume, to feel its wretchedness pool in the fracture that my brother’s death had left gaping.

Her approach was quiet, though her presence was not left unnoticed; Polly Gray was perhaps one of the few women who commanded the attention of any room unless Thomas Shelby was also in that room. Her cigarette smoke entwined into the winds that shifted restlessly and drifted over the canal, only to blow back into my burning eyes.

I could see her in my peripheral, dark sunhat and glasses obscuring her eyes and her leather-gloved fingers cradling the cigarette as if it were a piece of her; brunette hair was cut short, and an opulent fur coat was draped around her shoulders. She didn’t appear to belong in Small Heath, though I supposed that the position of accountant of the Blinders and aunt to Thomas Shelby came with its benefits.

“I heard about the funeral.” It was me who broke the silence, though my gaze was still set on the canal, watching as an owl swept down across the water as it mistook a twig for prey.

Polly took a long drag of her cigarette, and then said, “I don’t want your condolences.”

From the bitterness behind her words, I assumed that Thomas had told her of my involvement.

“Then what do you want?” I asked her, sparing her a glance out of the corner of my eye.

She eyed me back, from the sides of her lenses. “I’m here to tell you to go back to London. Go back to balancing books or answering phones in sponge baths or whatever it is you do. Get out while you still can.”

My gaze flitted back to the canal, and my brow knit as I studied the slow-moving waters. “You want me to run.”

“Call it what you want.” She blew another puff of the cigarette. “Work long enough for Thomas and you’ll end up getting fucked over by him, or becoming him, and I’m not sure which is worse.”

I’d heard about the arrest of the Shelby family members, how they had almost hanged because of a deal Thomas had made. It wasn’t until Luca and his vendetta against them had strung them together by a barbed wire of prickly words and bad blood. I had already witnessed some tense occurrences, namely between Polly and Thomas.

“I don’t think becoming Thomas Shelby sounds all that bad,” I remarked. “He can have any man in this city executed, any business shut down, anyone put behind bars…” I cast her a look, trying to gauge her dogged, unflinching expression. “He’s like a king. And who wouldn’t want that sort of power?”

“Then you’re halfway to becoming him,” she said, something achingly bittersweet in her words.

She couldn’t have seen the twinge of a smile that quirked my lip at that.

“So, have you met Luca?” she asked then.

I swallowed, as if it would force aside the haunting memories and alluring sensory that pervaded me at the mention of his name.

“I have,” I said, and turned to her as I dug a cigarette from my pocket. “Mind giving me a light, Miss Gray?”

I was intrigued as to why she was asking about him, wanted to let her speak more on him before I did, wanted to draw her in close to read her expression as she did.

She sized me up, lashes batting up and down above darkened eyes. For a long moment, I expected her to refuse and walk away, but she approached, lighter held up to my cigarette. Her perfume was floral, yet strong, almost imposing in nature, and she snapped the lighter shut the moment the tobacco caught ablaze.

I rarely smoked anymore; I only ever did so in solitude, when I needed something to soothe me and I could pretend that Alexander and I were sharing a cigarette together like the old days. As I filled my lungs with smoke, I resisted the memories of him, too, instead concentrated on Polly’s countenance – her brow sewn by stress but arched a tinge with confidence, her lips pinched slightly and jaw tight with that bitterness I had sensed from her tone. I blew the smoke towards the canal, but my eyes were on her almost immediately after, assessing her.

“Why are you asking about Luca?” I said, after a silence.

Polly’s brow arched a fraction more above her rounded sunglasses. “Is it a crime to know about the man who intends to kill all of us?”

It was the shift in her jaw that made me the most curious, next the dip of her head to reach her cigarette unlike the times she had held it high. She was deflecting my question, and there was more to it than her words.

“You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to put you behind bars,” I told her.

As she raised her head, her brows pinched at that.

“Is it a crime to be curious?” I asked her.

A brow quirked, and even a hint of a smirk graced her stoic face. “Being curious in this town will land you in worse places than behind bars.”

“I find that curiosity often leads to knowing, and knowing, of course, often leads to the upper hand.”

“Then you know nothing about the Shelbys, dear.” Another drag of her cigarette, and then, “But you do know something about the world, at least.”

Our gazes caught for a moment past the dark lenses of her sunglasses, and though I couldn’t see her eyes, I could only imagine that for a moment there was an understanding, a common ground. And then she was leaving, her cigarette squashed beneath the toe of her boot and her coat sweeping behind her.

“If you’re going to stay…” she said. “… at least find some shoes that you won’t ruin in the filth of these streets.”

I glanced down at my heels, planted in the soil of the yard, and I blew another puff of my cigarette as I set my gaze to the canal once more. Perhaps her advice was wise, but I did not plan on changing for Small Heath.

And I was not running. Not from Luca, not from Polly, not from Thomas. And I was certainly not running from the coward of a man who would do no more than send idle threats from behind his throne of lies.

NEXT CHAPTER

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[vexic929]

#7 When the sun shines, we'll shine together, told you I'll be here forever, said I'll always be your friend, took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end (Umbrella) from this prompt list info on Beth and Percy here and here

OCs are mine

Beth's eyes kept drifting from the page she was meant to be reading to Barry, motionless on the hospital bed. It was no use trying to study, she'd been trying for what felt like hours, but she couldn't focus. It was simultaneously much too quiet and much too distracting, alone in the infirmary of S.T.A.R. Labs. Still, she somehow didn't notice when Dr. Wells wheeled in.

"Planning on staying here all night?" Dr. Wells asked softly. His voice startled Beth and she quickly wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks.

"I just…I don't really want to leave…" She admitted after a moment. "I don't feel like I should."

Dr. Wells wheeled himself closer to Beth and put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand. But you need rest as well. Barry wouldn't want you to wear yourself out."

Beth nodded. She knew Dr. Wells was right, but she couldn't shake the guilt and anxiety that consumed her every waking moment since the particle accelerator explosion.

"He had another seizure sixteen hours ago." She whispered, her voice breaking. "And I wasn't here. I left for a few hours to get some fresh air and when I came back, he was- what if something happens again and I'm not here?"

Dr. Wells squeezed Beth's shoulder gently. "I will be here and I promise you that I will not let anything happen to your brother." He said firmly.

There was a moment of silence before Beth took a shaky breath and nodded, pushing herself to stand as she gathered her books. "Thank you, Dr. Wells…um…goodnight, then."

"Get some sleep." Dr. Wells called after her as she left the room.

Beth made her way back to her small apartment, but sleep seemed like an impossible feat. She couldn't shake the fear that something would happen to Barry when she wasn't there. She knew deep down that she couldn't control everything and that Barry's condition was entirely out of her hands, but it didn't stop the overwhelming fear.

Percy was still up working on his laptop, lit only by the blue light of his screen, his wire-framed glasses slipping down his nose as Beth walked in. "Hey." She said softly, dropping her books on the couch.

Percy looked up at Beth and gave a small smile. "How is he?"

Beth felt tears prick at her eyes again, but she forced them back. "No change."

"I'm sorry." Percy said simply, leaning back and stretching out of his hunched position. "You gonna go to bed?" He asked, gesturing to the clock that read 2:00 am.

"I don't know…I can't sleep." Beth said with a shrug, setting her bag and books on the sofa. Percy closed his laptop.

"How about late night breakfast then? I could go for some pancakes." He suggested, standing and shoving his phone in his pocket. "Or we could go for a walk, get some fresh air."

Beth hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay…pancakes sound good."

As they walked to the 24-hour diner down the street, Beth and Percy jumped sporadically from topic to topic, trying to keep the conversation light and distracting. But as their pancakes arrived, the topic inevitably shifted back to Barry. Percy rubbed his forehead.

"I'm not trying to be like a conspiracy theorist or anything but…it's weird, right? Barry gets struck by lightning the same night the particle accelerator blows? I mean a lot of weird stuff happened that night, I guess, but that's a hell of a coincidence." Percy said quietly.

"It's not that weird. He was in the highest point of the building touching a metal chain connected directly to the window in the roof, he might as well have been standing in a field holding a lightning rod." Beth said, cutting into her pancakes.

"Yeah but it wasn't supposed to storm-" Percy started.

"This is Missouri, when does the weather ever behave?" Beth cut in with a small smile.

Percy chuckled. "True, I just…I can't shake the feeling that something else is going on, you know?" He admitted.

Beth sighed and rested her head on her hand. "I know what you mean, it was just…a really shitty coincidence. Like the universe hates me or something. I mean my job literally blows up and my brother nearly dies within like the same hour? Something's got it out for me." She joked weakly.

Percy gave her a concerned look. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, I know…it's just- you know what I mean." Beth said with a small smile. Percy returned it and they finished their pancakes in comfortable silence. As they walked back to their apartment, Percy put an arm around Beth's shoulders.

"For the record, I don't think the universe hates you. I don't think anybody could hate you." He said softly. Beth smiled and hugged him tightly.

"You're the best, Perce."

1, 3, 6, 7 for the high school prompts (may I request something with the broken chains ocs for one of them? no pressure)

yesssssss of course!!!! I mostly haven't written much with the broken chains characters cause I haven't posted many of them yet and Kamau and Ember canonically don't even meet until way way way way late in the story lol <3333 but I have no qualms about writing for them for these at all!

#1 Don’t pretend, I think you know I’m damn precious and hell yeah, I’m the motherfuckin’ princess (Girlfriend) from this prompt list info on Ember here

Akmashi's nightlife was always exciting, regardless of your status or job. Ember was no exception; xe was very familiar with the nightlife though usually xe was in a less safe location, waiting for his latest client to come and pay for his services, yet tonight she found herself in a much better position.

Ember wore some of the nicest clothes they could afford as they nervously waited yards away from the entrance to one of Akmashi's most luxurious clubs. On any other night, he would be barred from entering, maybe attacked for even making an attempt, but Markas was a high enough status that they were hopeful his presence alone would be enough to keep them safe. Whenever Markas arrived, that is.

Ember tapped their foot impatiently and chewed xir lower lip. It wasn't like Markas to be late. A handful of drunk revelers passing shouted slurs at them as they passed but Ember did his best to ignore it.

Ember jumped at the feel of a hand on her lower back, startling her out of her thoughts, but it was only Markas, well-dressed in a violet tangzhuang and looking down at Ember with a faint smile.

"Sorry. I got caught up at the palace. Do you still want to go inside or would you rather go home?" Markas asked, his voice a low rumble.

Ember's smile lit up his face, the fear melting away. "After all this waiting, there's no fucking way we're not going in now."

Markas nodded, wrapping an arm around Ember's waist and leading them to the entrance. The bouncer gave them a dirty look but wisely held his tongue and only took a few moments before begrudgingly stepping aside to let them through.

Once inside, Markas pulled Ember closer protectively, almost daring anyone to say or do something as they wound their way through the crowd to the bar to grab a bottle of expensive maggake before finding a quiet corner booth. Ember seated themself in Markas's lap instead of the seat and took a swig directly from the bottle with a pleased sound. Markas watched his partner with amusement before pulling them closer and pressing a gentle kiss against their forehead.

"It's good to have you here with me," he murmured.

Ember smiled softly, leaning into Markas's embrace, already feeling herself relax. "It's good to be here with you."

[joaquinwhorres]

Blank Out (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names–amends he needs to make. When he gets to yours, he finds the amends process a bit more…difficult than it should be.

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. This is the Y/N version of my OC fic. Exactly the same but for people who prefer Y/N. Lemme know if you want to join the tag list!

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Y/N Y/L/N."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Y/N Y/L/N?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, Y/N’s come in all shapes, sizes, and colors." 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "You're the Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking her head. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Y/N's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Y/N reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Y/N said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Y/N in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Y/N started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Y/N alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Y/N turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Y/N prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Y/N said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Y/N sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Lilly will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

[jordanstrophe]

 (They’re slowly becoming oc’s, thank you, Dot, for the continuational growth of my OC bowl)

Masterlist

CW: Medieval whump, slavery, noncon nudity (nonsexual) whipping implied, branding implied, manhandling, forceful caretaking/bathing

The carriage rattled to a stop as the guards opened the doors for the king. He then extended a hand to his new slave, who sat quivering in their seat. They held the torn shirt against their chest, the only thing they had left for cover as their freshly whipped back was exposed. 

“Come now, we have much to get done.” He waved his fingers, coaxing the slave to take it. Whumpee knew better than to disobey, their arm extending before hesitating. Their hand was covered in mud as they instantly flinched back, not daring to get a speck of filth on the king's garbs.

“I- I can’t.” Whumpee stuttered, tightening their grasp on their shredded shirt. “Yes you can. I don’t mind a little dirt, now take my hand.” Their tone was authoritative, but lulling as Whumpee couldn’t resist resting their hand within the king’s soft glove. Their hand was squeezed as they were pulled from the carriage, stumbling as they were caught within the king's arms, who only chuckled at their clumsiness. 

“Your majesty, the servants are ready.” A guard said. “Wonderful! Take this dear to the wash and get them cleaned up. I want them groomed before the celebratory bouquet tonight.” 

“Yes sir.” Almost immediately, two metallic hands grabbed Whumpee from each side, pulling them up the castle’s stairs. The cold touch shot shivers up their spine, feeling the stress build in their chest the further they were taken. 

This can’t be happening... Is this... A dream? A twisted hallucination? A slave of all things to be taken in by the king himself was like a child’s fantasy. 

The corridor was made from grey stone, the floors clothed in blood red carpets with matching curtains framing each window. Whumpee could hardly keep up with the guards almost dragging them deeper into the castle. The shirt slipped through their grasp as Whumpee gasped, digging their heels into the ground. “Wait! I l-lost my-” ”-Don’t worry, you won’t be needing it.” The guard laughed, coming to a halt as Whumpee crumple to the floor. 

They were gone as soon as they came, leaving Whumpee surrounded by a group of servants forming a line with curious prying eyes. 

“Oh dear, what a mess...”

“Look at all those scars! Are you sure this is what the king brought home?”

“Quiet! We don’t question his majesty...” 

“Just look at them, a battered slave! Must have been nothing but trouble.”

Whumpee slowly curled in on themselves with each word, hiding their chest within their arms. “Now sisters, that’s enough. Let's get to work.” Their arms were taken as they were practically lifted off their feet right into a large warm bath. It smelled of rich potent oils as they held back a choking breath. 

“It’s myrrh, costume for those who approach the king to soak in it.” A woman kneeling by their side. Whumpee gasped a whimper when they were covered in hands trying to wash them, touching them here and there, oil being poured down their shoulders. They winced when a cloth brushed against their back. 

“Gentle! They're wounded.” She barked. 

“What? The king is expecting them to look lavishing” She argued back. 

“Well make them look lavishing with ease! They belong to the king himself, we must treat them as such.”  The hands covering them hesitated in unison, before continuing with gentleness. 

Whumpee’s pupils were noticeably dilated with fear as they tried not to look at the faces of the hands that handled them. Their arm was taken, coaxing them to lean up. “Come on, I need to wash your chest.” 

Whumpee instantly sank further into the waters, ‘P-please don’t...” They rasped. “Don’t be shy now, this will only take a minute.” Their wrists were taken as they were pulled up until the water was at their waist. Whumpee choked back a sob before breaking into hyperventilation, turning their head away with blushing pink cheeks.

“Oh sweet mother of King Arvand the lll....” She gasped, her eyes glued to the branded sign on their chest. “Pl-please! It wasn’t my f-fault!” Whumpee cried, twisting their body away without any avail. They were slowly lowered back into the water, instantly curling within their arms. 

The branded Sigle, a mark put on a slave by their owner to signifying a pending trade to a rivalry kingdom. Not only looked down upon, but an act of treason to those who dare seek illegal goods from the enemy. 

“When did this happen?” She asks, Whumpee’s arm flinching at the most gentle of touches. “La-last week..." Whumpee hid their head under their arms. "Master put a sword in the forge one day until it was red and-I-.. I wasn’t to-told what I did wrong...!” They looked up at her with a broken voice and tear filled eyes. 

“But I didn’t deserve it.... I swear I didn’t! ....” They shook their head in denial.

“Did I?” 

Their voice was full of uncertainty. “No, you didn’t.” A sad smile painted her face.

“This needs to be brought to the king's attention, immediately!” A servant yelled. “No! Not yet... This week is the anniversary, remember? The king has just returned home. We speak nothing of this until the event has ended.” Her gaze turned back down to the slave. “Listen to me, this cannot be mentioned until the week is over, do you understand?” She asked. 

“I don’t even understand why I’m here!” Whumpee finally broke, ceasing all hopes that maybe this was just a vivid dream. 

“You’re here because you found favor with the king, little one, his majesty is gracious.” She smiled. “Speaking of which, he wants you at the celebration tonight, that’s an incredible honor.” She tried to get them hopeful, pinching their cheek that sent shutters down their shoulders.

But Whumpee knew full well they were probably going to mess that up as well. 

Next

Tag list: @grizzlie70  @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog  @whump-it-like-its-hot  @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments  @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump  @shokuhoemisaki @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @tears-and-lilies 

o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading!

[thefanficmonster]

I’m Right Here

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident (minor), Injuries

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: There is nothing scarier than those moments when every breath you take is shallow; when your heart is racing and your body is drenched in cold sweat. When you are rushing to the aid of a hurt loved one, knowing you can never be fast enough because your mind and fear are at least a mile ahead of you. Corpse has to experience these exact moments after a frightening call that informs him of his girlfriend’s car accident.

Requested by @sugiliteshadow . Hi! Thank you so much for you request, darling. Sorry to be posting it so late and I can’t thank you enough for your patience. I hope the fic itself makes up for the wait. Please enjoy! Stay safe! Love, Vy ❤

It’s been about an hour since I got off the phone with Y/N and my concern is through the roof. She called me from the parking lot of the office building where she works at, telling me she’s be home in less than half an hour and asking if I needed her to pick up anything along the way. I have been trying to brush away the worries, comforting myself with the fact that I did request a specific type of iced tea and knowing Y/N, she’s probably looking for it in multiple stores because she couldn’t find it in the convenience store that’s along her way back home. I should’ve told her not to sweat it considering I don’t need it right away or anything.  I have tried distracting myself with editing just to hinder myself from picking up my phone and debating weather to call her or not. I may be worried but I don’t wanna put her life in danger by calling her while she’s driving.

I keep my hands on my keyboard and mouse, my phone halfway across the room just in case. Another thirty minutes pass by with no sound of the door being unlocked or even a car pulling up. My fingers are beginning to drum over the buttons on my keyboard anxiously. I have had to go back and redo so many things with the video I’m editing because my mind simply isn’t present. It’s wandering around the city, looking for that one familiar car that’s always outside our house, parked in the driveway. That’s currently being driven by my girlfriend of two years Y/N.

My phone’s ringtone snaps me out of the downwards spiral of my thoughts, simultaneously picking up the speed of my heartbeat. I basically launch myself out of my chair and towards the bed where the ringing is coming from. I feel a wave of relief rush over me when I see Y/N’s name on the lit screen.

“Hey babe, where have you been?“ I ask as soon as I answer the call. It feels like my whole body shuts down when I finally pick up on the sound of blaring sirens in the background.

“Sir, I’m sorry to inform you Miss Y/L/N has been in an accident.” The words the female voice on the phone says cut through me like a knife, sending chills of paralyzing fear all over my body, “You were the last person she contacted before the accident which is why we’ve stepped in contact with you. However, if you are not able to come collect Miss Y/L/N, please contact a family member of hers.“

The calmness of her tone is freaking me out of my skin and mind, “Is she ok?! Where is she?!“

“She’s alright, sir. She’s not completely conscious yet, though. But she will be by the time you arrive. Her injuries are not in any way life-threatening. She has a few cuts and bruises and a concussion. A medical team has already taken care of her.“

Before I know it, I’m already out the door, the location the policewoman gave me in my head as I get behind the wheel of my car which I rarely use. Thankfully, the road the accident happened on is less than fifteen minutes away. Due to the late hour there is close to no traffic on the roads so I make it to the scene in no time.  Y/N’s car is surrounded by two cop cars and two ambulances. I barely even notice the black Honda Civic that is almost equally as beat up as Y/N’s Toyota. Speaking of the Toyota, its front bumper is completely obliterated - the headlights, blinkers and windshield in pieces and shards on the pavement. 

In the first ambulance there’s a guy passed out on a gurney with an ivy rip connected to his arm. In the one next to it is Y/N, sitting hunched over with her head hanging low, her hair falling over her face. 

“Y/N?“ I rush over to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder but withdrawing my arm in case she has a bruise in that spot.

She lifts her head, a look of relief and happiness flashing across her face. She lets out a sigh, a small smile appearing on her lips as her eyes fill with tears. “Corpse...” her hand reaches out for mine which is still hanging in the air. I give her my other hand and she uses me as support to slowly stand up. She lets go of my hands and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug as a quiet sob leaves her chest. “I was so scared when I woke up. I couldn’t remember anything.”

“It’s ok, you’re ok now. I’m here, I’m right here.“ I gently smooth her hair while carefully holding her in my embrace. She has a few purple bruises along her arms and cuts on her cheek and neck which are covered in white bandages with small dark red stains. The most major thing I can see is the cut on her left temple which is also covered up. I press a tender kiss to the right one. “Are you in any pain?“ I pull away to get a better look at her.

Thankfully she shakes her head, “No, I’m ok. My elbow hurts a little but that’s it.”

I nod, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead. Just as I’m about to ask her what exactly happened one one of the police officers approaches us.

“A drunk driver. He ran the red light and crashed straight into her car.“ The officer says, judging by her voice it’s the same woman that called me. “You don’t remember that, do you?“

Y/N turns to her, “I just remember hearing a loud crash and then darkness. I didn’t know what had happened until you told me when I woke up.”

The policewoman gives us a sincere smile, lightly touching Y/N’s shoulder “It’s ok, sweetheart. You are alright, that’s what matters. And you have someone here by your side.”

Y/N’s eyes meet mine when she gives me the most loving glance, the one that I often catch in her eyes - the one that always melts me. “He always is.” she says, running her fingers down my arm, interlocking hers with mine when they reach my hand.

The policewoman tells us good night and walks over to the other ambulance. We stick around to see the cars get taken away and Y/N gives her info so they can contact her when the car is repaired. I know how much she loves that car - it’s the first and only car she has ever owned. She has had it for about seven years and calls it her child basically. I never thought I’d be jealous of a car in my life - just kidding. But my point has been made - she’s never been apart from it or driven another car.

Wrapping my arm around her while she watches her car being taken away, I turn her around, leading her towards my car. “Let’s get you home. You’ll be 100% under my care and no complaints will be accepted.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, snuggling up into my side, “Don’t make a big deal about this please. And, for the love of God, don’t baby me too much, ok?”

I grin down at her, “What was that, I didn’t quite catch it?“

“Corpseeee...“ She pouts, a frown on her face, making her look so childish it’s absolutely adorable.

“Save the whining, it ain’t gonna work.“ I open the door to the passenger seat, stepping aside so she can get in the my car.

Surprisingly enough, she actually doesn’t complain the rest of the way home nor when we arrive. Nor when I instruct her to stay in bed and not move unless it’s absolutely necessary. I basically bring all the snacks from the kitchen into our room while she compiles a list of movies we will be watching because no sleep will be had tonight.  “I love you.“ Y/N says through a sigh halfway through the second movie.

“I love you too. But don’t fall asleep.“ I tickle her side, causing her to giggle and squirm in an attempt to get away from me.

“Ok, ok, but you’re gonna have to help me. If I blink, I’ll be a goner.“ She yawns, shuffling back towards me. When she flashes me that hinting wide smile, I know exactly what she’s insinuating.

I sigh, giving in with ease. “When you were here before...“

“Couldn’t look you in the eye...“ she backs me up just as I knew she would

“You’re just like an angel...“

“Your skin makes me cry...“

Needless to say, we end up duetting random songs - rap songs, heavy metal, pop songs, some of my songs, some Christmas songs, Disney songs - making it one of the best movie marathons we’ve ever had, the unfortunate events of the day far behind us and completely gone from our minds.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams  @the-fuck-up-of-today  @chiefwombathoagiepizza  @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @symphony-butterfly  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @baby-iyania  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @pinkhairedsapphic  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap  @maybe-im-dead-idk  @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade  @chaoticgayandnerdy  @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @strawberrycheesecakekenzistuff  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @amysingh2512  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @faepetersen  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr

[gotnofucks]

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

 Taglist is open for all characters

[fayemarvels]

time makes the heart grow fonder

Hey, so I'm back after a little break I had from writing, hope you like this one.

~~~~~~~~

Bucky x fem!reader

Summary: Bucky wants to finish his list of amends. The problem? The last name on the list belongs to a woman whit whom he had a more romantic relationship during his time in Hydra.

Warnings: little sad, attempted murder, bad writing, doesn't follow the events of movies or series whatsoever,

Word count: 3,3k

! Please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you!

My masterlist *******

-----------------------------

“Just wanted to let you know that I’m not the winter soldier anymore, my name is James, and I have to make amends,” Bucky told to the terrified man in front of him, in a monotone voice. The man didn’t say anything; he only squished his back closer to the wall behind him.

“So, I didn’t want to kill your family, I was just a puppet to Hydra. They made me do it.” He said the words, which he told many times. He squatted in front of the man and he closed his eyes in fear. Bucky sighed and moved his hand towards his pocket. The man in front of him flinched and whimpered in fear.

“Just my note book, don’t worry,” Bucky mumbled and pulled it out of his pocket, opened it, and crossed over the man’s name. He looked over the page for a few moments, when his eyes landed the last uncrossed name, (Y/L/N). He shook his head and nodded his head towards the man.

“Good talk, man thanks for listening.” He slapped the man’s shoulder and he squeaked quietly. “Would talk more but I have to get to therapy,” Bucky said, stood up, and left the abandoned warehouse, where he cornered the poor scared man. As he walked away, the only thing he could hear were the fast footsteps of the man and his labored breathing.

---------------------

“So, you crossed another name off your list, that’s great.” His therapist said in a monotone voice and Bucky nodded awkwardly. The room went silent and she started to write something in her little notepad, which he hated so much.

“Okay, I don’t have much to tell you. You have been making progress.” She looked back down to her notepad.

“No nightmares?” she asked and Bucky shook his head.

“No, only some flashbacks but I’ve been sleeping peacefully for the last 3 weeks.” He answered truthfully. The doctor only nodded and continued writing in her notepad.

“I want you to finish the list of amends by the time of our next session.” The doctor announced and Bucky’s heart skipped a beat.

“Then we can move on to other stuff.” She continued and Bucky shook his head quickly.

“No, I can’t do it that quickly, give me some time before I can face her family.” He pleaded and she looked up at him surprised.

“So, you had some connection with the victim? Other than your…” she stopped to think “unfortunate encounter?” she questioned and Bucky looked to the floor in shame.

“I managed to escape in 2009.” He whispered quietly and the doctor furrowed her eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“When I was with Hydra. I managed to escape and hide for about 3 years. The woman I killed, she helped me hide.” He confessed and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“This wasn’t in the files, I would’ve known.” She mumbled to herself as she shuffled through her notes and files.

“It isn’t,” Bucky said and ended her useless search. “Nobody knows about it. Except you.” He confessed and she calmed down.

“Alright, tell me what happened James.” She said and got her stupid notebook ready. Bucky took a few deep breathes to calm himself down and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“So, a few years back, the winter soldier was sent on a mission to the outskirts of San Francisco. It was supposed to be easy, just a takedown of some S.H.I.E.L.D. officials who were visiting one of the newer bases in the area. But then I realized it was a trap. Long story short, I got shot into the stomach, and left shoulder.” He started explaining.

He didn’t remember many injuries from his time as the winter soldier, but he could remember this one very clearly. The pain, the metallic taste of his own blood. His head started spinning just thinking about that and he decided to move on.

“I got away, but the bullet damaged the chip I had in my left shoulder and it got disconnected from Hydra’s systems. I ran a few blocks before collapsed from exhaustion in an ally way behind some bar.” He stopped to wait so the doctor could finish her writing and then continued.

“I think I laid there for about 3 hours before she came out of the bar. She worked her part-time job there because she was in college. She studied psychology.” Bucky’s voice cracked a bit and he took a deep breath because he could feel tears stinging his eyes.

“Take your time James.” She reminded and handed him a paper tissue. He thanked her and dabbed his eyes with it a few times.

“She wanted to take me to the hospital but I told her she can’t. I was so out of it because of the pain but I knew that this was maybe the only chance I would get at escaping Hydra. So she drove me to her dorm room about 20 minutes away from the bar.” He paused to collect his thoughts before he continued.

“She then took care of my injuries, made me some food, and let me sleep in her bed. My wounds wouldn’t heal for a long time so she decided to take me to a house she got from her grandparents. She even apologized for getting me out of the dorm room so quickly, but she explained that her roommate would come soon and she didn’t want to be questioned.” He chuckled as he felt the hot tears tumble down his cheeks.

“She drove me there and spent the whole weekend with me. In the meantime, I snapped out of my winter soldier mindset. So I explained everything to her and she wasn’t scared of me. Can you believe that?” he smiled fondly at the memory. The doctor only nodded at him with a smile on her face. It was unusual to see her smile.

“She then had to go back to her dorm on Sunday, but she left me with a lot of food, books, and clothes, so I would be okay. She visited every weekend and sometimes even throughout the week. And after a few months, we fell in love. When her semester finished, we stayed in the house together. It was like this for about three years, before Hydra found out where I was hiding.” He shivered at the memory and continued.

“Then, they made me kill her. And you know the rest.” He finished quickly and wiped his tears with the backs of his hands. The tissue that the doctor gave him laying on the table crumbled into a little ball.

“I miss her you know,” he sniffled and the doctor nodded with sympathy in her eyes.

“Only thing I got left is a photo I managed to hide in my boot.” He laughed and took out the polaroid to look at her. The doctor put out her hand.

“Can I see?” she asked softly and Bucky put the photo in her hand hesitantly. She thanked him quietly and turned the photo to look at it properly.

Her eyes first landed on Bucky’s smiling face. She could see he was holding the camera with one hand, and his other hand was wrapped around the shoulders of the girl on his left. She was squishing her cheek to Bucky’s and laughed into the camera, with her arms wrapped loosely around Bucky’s neck. Just from the first look, you could see that they were happy.

“What was her name? If you don’t mind me asking.” The doctor asked cautiously and Bucky smiled softly.

“Her name was (Y/N).”

“Thank you for sharing with me James, this was progress as well, you opening up.” She explained to him and he nodded his head, still looking to the ground.

“But you are taking a very long time with the list of amends so I can’t give you more time. You have time until the end of the month, which is 2 weeks. Not more.” She announced and he gulped loudly.

“I understand, why you were pushing this away, and I think you know you can’t do that any longer. This is the way to forgive yourself.” She explained.

“You can go, we are finished for today.” She dismissed him and he shook his head.

“The problem is doctor; I don’t think I can forgive myself,” Bucky answered and left the room.

--------------------------

A week later, tired-looking Bucky stumbled into his apartment. It was around 3 a.m. and he couldn’t sleep. Ever since he opened up to his therapist about his years on the run, he didn’t get much sleep. His nightmares were plagued with the images of his lover laying lifelessly on the floor under the bridge.

His sleep was haunted with the flashbacks of the horrible actions he had done, while under the influence of Hydra. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her. He tried every single nightmare exercise the doctor taught him. Nothing helped. So he tried the second option. Get drunk and pass out from exhaustion.

But even that was hard. With the serum running through his veins, his alcohol tolerance was very high and getting drunk was nearly impossible. But after nearly 7 hours of constant drinking, he was plastered.

He drunkenly stumbled into his apartment, threw his keys and jacket on the floor, and took off his gloves and shoes. After nearly falling over the table, he finally got into his bedroom. He stripped down, put on his pajamas, and moved into the bathroom to do his nighttime routine.

He fell into the bed about 10 minutes later and fell asleep immediately. He just hoped no nightmares would haunt him this night.

------------------------

“Come on Bucky, you know me, please!” The woman in front of him begged as she backed away from him slowly.

“Who is Bucky?” He asked confused and she shook her head.

“It’s you, you are Bucky, My Bucky. You don’t have to go back. I know it’s very hard to resist but you have to try, then you can be free.” She tried to get into his head with her words but he only mumbled.

“You are my mission, I have to kill you.” He said in a monotone voice and she knew Hydra finally got into his head and she couldn’t do anything anymore. So she ran. She pushed a table in front of him to gain some time and ran out of the house, towards her car. She quickly sat inside and put the keys into the ignition.

“Come on, come on,” she mumbled as she tried to put the keys inside with her shaky hands.

“You can’t run from meeee.” The winter soldier shouted and (Y/N) whimpered in fear. The car finally started and she stepped on the gas and drove away.

She knew he would probably catch up to her, but trying wouldn’t hurt. Honestly, she didn’t have anything to lose and at this point, she was just stalling her own death.

She got into the city and slowed down a bit. There were quite a lot of cars and she didn’t want to cause an accident. But just a few minutes later, a car rammed into the passenger’s side of her car. Her head hit her steering wheel and her ears started ringing.

She looked to see the car that rammed into her, and she could see the winter soldier sitting in the driver’s seat. She saw her chance to flee when he couldn’t open his door and struggled with it for a few moments.

“Not today, bitch.” She mumbled and quickly opened her door and ran in a random direction as fast as she could. She later regretted that decision, because she got lost.

She ended up hiding under some random bridge. She sat down behind some concrete cubes and finally breathed for a bit. She couldn’t run anymore, her legs were burning and she couldn’t breathe anymore. She was also quite sure she had a concussion.

She just stared off into the distance and she could feel the tears running down her cheeks. (Y/N) missed her Bucky so much. She missed his pretty laugh and his unfunny jokes.

She shivered as she felt the cold January air seep into her bones. She didn’t even have a jacket.

“Now, as much as I love a good chase, this is where we end it.” She heard a cold voice behind her and she froze up. This was the end.

She got ready to run when he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against a pillar behind him. The woman tried to fight him and get out of his grasp, but it didn’t do anything. He pressed against her windpipe and she whimpered.

“Please no,” she whispered as she tried to breathe. She sniffled softly and touched his wrist lightly. She knew she was going to die. She decided to let Bucky know she didn’t hate him. She knew he would blame himself when he snapped out of it.

“I love you.” She whispered and he cocked an eyebrow. “I just want you to know that I don’t hate you now, and I never will.” She could feel her eyes closing and she stretched her hand towards his face. But it didn’t get there. Her hand fell limp on his shoulder and he breathed out.

“At least your beautiful face is the last thing I get to see before I die.” She chuckled before her eyes closed and her body went limp.

The winter soldier then let go of her neck and her body tumbled towards the ground. He looked around and saw a van parked just 0.2 miles away from them. He looked at the girl one last time before moving towards the van. He opened the back door and slid in.

“Mission report?”

“Gone”

-------------------

Bucky woke up with a gasp and tears running down his cheek. He looked at his alarm clock. It was 6 a.m. which meant, he only slept for about 3 hours, which was better than every single night prior.

He breathed in and out slowly before he stood up and moved towards his closet. He pulled out 2 pillows and a blanket. He tied the pillows together with the blanket and created something like a pillow snake.

“Okay, let’s try this.” He mumbled to himself as he got back into the bed. He put the pillow snake on the empty side of the bed and hesitantly cuddled up to it, seeking just a tiny bit of comfort. He wrapped his arms around it and pushed his face into it, and fell asleep slowly. He slept until 9 a.m.

----------------------

“So the nightmares are back.” The doctor asked and Bucky nodded looking very tired.

“And you still haven’t finished your amends.” She said, sounding a bit disappointed. He only shook his head as he yawned.

“I think it would put your mind at ease you know,” she started slowly and Bucky shook his head again.

“I’m guessing you didn’t meet her family when you were together.”

“No, I met her friend Eliot by mistake but other than that, no.” The doctor nodded slowly and scribbled something into her notepad.

“I really think you should go and see her family. The sooner, the better.” She stated firmly and Bucky nodded.

“You are right.” He mumbled and looked at her.

“We can end the session sooner and you can go and catch a flight. You can see them the first thing in the morning.” She proposed and Bucky sighed sadly.

“Okay, thanks.” He mumbled, stood up, and left the room.

----------------------

He got a hotel room in San Francisco later that night. He was quite tired from the flight and prayed, the nightmares would leave him alone.

He walked into his hotel room, checked if everything was as it should be, and flopped onto the bed. He put out a photo of (Y/N) and stroked it slowly.

“I hope your family understands, and they don’t hate me. Hope they are just as kind as you are.” He whispered and smiled sadly.

“I miss you so much my love, so so much.” He kissed the photo softly, put it inside of his bedside table, and rolled onto his left side. He fell asleep quite quickly that night.

----------------------------

He has been standing in front of the house for the last 40 minutes. He just couldn’t bring himself to ring the bell.

“Okay Barnes, you got this.” He whispered to himself as he walked towards the front door through the front garden. He wiped his sweaty hands in his jeans and rang the doorbell with a shaky finger.

It was quiet for a bit before the door rattled and an elderly woman opened the door.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked happily and Bucky nodded.

“I wanted to talk about your daughter (Y/N),” he said slowly and the woman only laughed.

“What did the girl get herself into again?” the woman laughed and Bucky looked at her with wide eyes.

“She is alive?” he gasped and the woman nodded.

“Of course, nearly died in 2012, and disappeared during the blip, but yeah. She is.” Who’s asking?

“My name is James, I’m an old friend.” He stuttered out and the woman narrowed her eyes.

“You want her address?” she asked and Bucky quickly nodded his head.

“Give me the note book, I’ll give it to you.” She motioned towards his little book and he handed it to her.

“It’s not that far, you can walk there actually.” She informed and Bucky thanked her.

“Thank you so much, I have to go and see her, see you later.” He shouted as he ran away from the door.

“This should be it.” He mumbled to himself as he walked around the neighborhood. He stopped in front of a big house, with a beautiful front garden. It looked like the house, they talked about when they were together.

--------------------

“And it should have a big front garden, so our dogs can run in it” she imagined and Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, and a big pool so we don’t have to go swimming in a lake.” He proposed and she laughed.

“Yeah” she trailed off and the smile on her face fell slowly.

“Hey, what’s wrong dove?” Bucky asked seriously and she only shook her head.

“Just hope we’ll get what we want.” She said sadly and Bucky took her face in his hands.

“Hey, we just have to believe, one day, I’ll be free and we’ll travel the world together okay?” he reassured her and she smiled up at him.

She kissed him slowly in agreement and he hummed into the kiss.

------------------

He got back into reality when he stopped in front of the front door. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He pressed it and stepped away from the door. The door rattled and she opened it up.

“Bucky?” she asked softly and he nodded with his eyes full of tears.

“It’s me dove.” He said tearfully and she moved towards him. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He only wrapped his arms around her waist and put his face into her neck, to breathe in her wonderful smell.

“I missed you so much,” she sobbed out and tightened her arms around him.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” He mumbled and she shook her head.

“I made it out with a mild concussion.” She snorted and he looked at her with wide eyes.

“It’s funny to you?” he asked baffled and she nodded.

“No one gets away from the winter soldier and I did it.” She laughed and his smile fell.

“If you are wondering, I’m no longer him, I got rid of him.” He clarified and (Y/N) shushed him.

“Let’s talk about this later, just kiss me now.” He begged and Bucky nodded. He quickly put his lips on hers and she pulled him even closer by his neck.

“I love you” she mumbled.

“I love you too, I’m never letting you go ever again.”

------------------------

Thank you so much for 76 followers, I am so, so happy you are enjoying my work.

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[jawabear]

(2) Rule Breaker (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: so here’s the part two of Rule Breaker. It’s a little bit longer than I originally planned and it is also 87% smut (that’s probably not an accurate figure but you get my point). I hope you enjoy it as much as the first part. This one is happier so...yay. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: fem!reader, smutty things, oral (fem receiving), fingering, *slight* arm kink, can you blame me, Bucky being cute, but also hot, Maybe Bucky is a little shy

Summary: Bucky has another name to add to his list of his amends

Part 1

It had been nearly a month.

Nearly a whole month had past and he hadn’t seen her once. She hadn’t called him or texted him. But he hadn’t called her either. He just assumed that she was done with him now after what he did. But he wasn’t done with her.

“So why don’t you call her?” Dr Raynor asked him as she tilted her head to the side a little.

“She won’t want to speak to me” he mumbled as he fiddled with the leather gloves covering his hands.

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because of the way she looked at me. She smiled but I could see the pain in her eyes. I told you I hurt her. I broke her heart. Why would she ever want to talk to me again?” Bucky question, Dr Raynor could hear slight anger in his voice, something she hadn’t heard in him before. But he was angry at himself, she could tell that.

“Because, if what you’ve told me about her is true, then she isn’t the type of person to cast someone aside after one mishap. Especially not you. You’ve told me she is a forgiving person, James. And she must care for you as much as you care for her, which I can tell is a lot”

“I don’t think she’ll forgive me” he said to himself.

“As a condition of your pardon, you have three rules to follow” Raynor continued “you broke rule number two. You admitted that to me. So now, you have to make amends”

Bucky didn’t say anything and just looked away. For once he actually agreed with her. He did need to make amends. He needed to fix his broken relationship. Fix her broken heart.

“But what if she doesn’t let me?” Bucky muttered under his breath. He was thinking out loud, but it was also a genuine question. What if she didn’t accept his apology? What if she had moved on? Found someone better than him.

“You won’t know until you try” Raynor shrugged. Bucky let out a dry laugh at the comment. Something he had heard since he was kid. “You either try and make amends, or I have you arrested for breaking the terms of your pardon”

“That’s a little extreme don’t you think doc?” He questioned.

“Maybe you need a little extreme to motivate you to do the right thing” he frowned slightly still not looking at her. “Now, I know I haven’t met her. But I have met you before, during and after being with her. And if I’m being honest, I much prefer the person you were during being with her. And I’m sure you do too”

Bucky could stop thinking about Dr Raynor’s words on his way home. There was truth in them that was terrifying to him. He knew she was right. He would have to apologise to her and make amends for breaking rule number two. But the same questions he had asked himself were still lingering in the back of his mind. What if she didn’t accept his apology, and what if she had moved on already?

It wouldn’t be difficult for her in finding another partner. She was perfect and could get anyone she wanted. But he selfishly wanted himself to be the only person she’s with. He felt a little sick at the thought of her being with someone else. They wouldn’t be able to make her happy the way he did. But perhaps at the same time, they wouldn’t break her heart the way he did.

There were too many thoughts in his head. So many that it got to a dangerous point where he felt his head was going to explode. The feelings inside him were ones he hadn’t felt since his HYDRA days. Things he hadn’t felt since being with her. The feelings of fear, anger, and sadness.

Bucky needed her.

He knew why he needed her. He knew why he wanted her. She made everything okay.

When he was with her, it felt as though he was back in Wakanda. Back in his calm. With her, the world wasn’t moving at a million miles a minuet. It moved as fast as he wanted it to move. With her, he felt like he was in control. He felt like he was truly free.

And he wanted that freedom back. He hated that his thoughts were clouded again like before. He hated that he felt so conflicted like before. He hated that he felt so out of control, so trapped, so alone just like before. Only she could make him better. Only she could make him free.

It was late now. It was dark out but the streets were just as busy as they were in the day light. Such is the way of people. Such is the way of the city that never sleeps. But aside from that, he was far more concerned with the fact that in all his clouded judgment his feet had brought him to place he longed to be. Not his own home, but hers.

He knew the road to her place probably better than he did his own. Her place was nicer than his, for starters, she had furniture. And more importantly, it was where she was.

But now Bucky began to feel panic more than anything. Panic that he was stood outside her door and she was most likely inside. He began to quickly weigh up his options. Either leave and try and forget all about her, or stay and hope for the best in apologising to her.

Knowing that trying to forget her and moving one would be utterly impossible for him, his only other option was to knock on her door and stage out his apology.

His metal hand knocked slowly three times on the wood of her door. And so he waited. While waiting, he mapped out a vague script of what he wanted to say to her. But there was so much he wanted to say to her that it was nearly impossible to try and shorten it down. Especially since at any second she could’ve opened the door.

But when her door opened, all his thoughts disappeared. His script was torn up and forgotten. All his earlier emotions of anger, fear and sadness had washed away. He was just happy to see her again. He was overwhelmed at seeing her again. Not just with happiness, but relief and guilt to go along side it too. It was quite a strange feeling. But what mattered more was that she was there in front of him.

“James?” She said quietly. She didn’t looked angry at seeing him. Or sad. She looked a little confused. And her confusion only increased at what he did next.

He didn’t really know what came over him. Perhaps it was the overwhelming emotions that cause him to do what he did. He surged forwards, taking her face in his gloved hands and pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss. He walked her backwards into her apartment, the door swinging shut and locking behind them.

Bucky didn’t know where here was walking her too. Just to the nearest stopping point he guessed. That was her kitchen table. The place where most their monumental moments happened. It was where they had their first date, where they shared their first kiss, where they shared their stories and when they both first said ‘I love you’. And now it would be the home of his desperate plea for her forgiveness.

He pulled his trembling lips from her but still held her face in his hands. He didn’t care about the tears falling down his face, and he didn’t care that he probably looked crazy, his emotions were building up inside him and his words tumbled from his lips.

“I know I...I have no right to be here. No right to be...kissing you after what I did. But (Y/N)...I want you to know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to. I was just...scared. So scared of being in a relationship. Scared of being with you. Being with someone so perfect. I don’t deserve you. But I love you” he sobbed as he began kissing her again “I love you so much. You are what I’m looking for. I only want you. I only need you”

He was expecting her to push him away which is why he was so desperate to kiss her for as long as he could, he was terrified that this would be the last chance he would ever get to be with her.

She did push him away but not forever. She smiled at him and took his face in her gentle hands, wiping away his fast flowing tears that didn’t cease no matter how hard he tried to conceal them. “You don’t need to apologise to me, Bucky” she whispered “even though it did hurt, I accepted your reasoning. I understand that for someone like you, being in a relationship is probably terrifying. I just wanted you to be happy which I why I let it go. But in a selfish way, I want you to be happy with me. Because I love you Bucky. And I’ll always be here to love you. I’ll always be here for you”

Bucky didn’t reply but instead forced his lips on hers again in a more passionate kiss than before. She smiled into the kiss and slipped her arms around his neck. He moved his around her waist and lifted her off the floor, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom still knowing the exact path to take to get there.

He lay her in the centre of her bed, putting her down gently carful not to damage the precious being that she was. He pulled his lips off her and pressed a light kiss to her forehead “you do make me happy. Happier than anyone else has” his hands began to wander over her body and she sank into every touch. “Let me show you how happy you make me” Bucky’s voice was lower now and more rough. It sent a small shiver down her spine and she nodded her head making him chuckle a little.

Bucky’s fingers trialled up under her shirt making her shiver at the cool touch of his metal hand against her warm skin. As his fingers moved up her body, he took her shirt with them. Pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side now trailing kisses down her torso making love to every inch of her bare skin.

“I’m never letting you go again...” he whispered before dragging his tongue down the navel between her breasts, silently thanking what ever god there was above him for the fact she had decided not to wear a bra for whatever reason. “You’re going to be stuck with me forever” he smirked as he looked up at her.

Her hands rose to his cheeks and pulled his face back to hers, pushing her lips against his. “I don’t want to be anywhere else” she muttered against his lips before he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

He hummed against her lips as he licked all the inside of her mouth reclaiming what was his. Her fingers threaded themselves into his soft hair gently tugging on the strands as his tongue still continued its journey inside her wet cavern.

Cool fingers slid back up her sides and the black metal fingers began circling her nipple before pinching it and making her squeak “Bucky” she said breathlessly as he pulled back from her lips looking a little too proud of himself.

“I’ve still got it” he joked making her laugh before he kneaded her breast in his hand. Her head rolled backwards giving him prime access to her luscious neck that he loved so much. Bucky waisted no time in attaching his lips to her neck, sucking on that perfect spot while still gently squeezing at her breast. Her hands fell to his shoulders, gripping them lightly as she pressed her knees against his hips, trying in vain to suppress the wetness forming between her legs.

(Y/N) curled her fingers, rolling the fabric of his jacket in them making her groan a little. She wanted to feel him again. But not with this jacket on, not with his shirt on either. But she was far to content in the lush feeling of the way he so expertly made love to her neck. His tongue massaging her skin before sinking his teeth into it and them going back to rubbing his tongue over it. It was a pattern. A cycle. One that she desperately loved.

But right now, what she would love more than that, was to see that well built body of his. “Bucky” She hummed as she began pushing at his shoulders slightly, a signal for him to pull away. When he did, he looked down at her in concern, worried he had done something wrong.

“What is it?” He asked quickly. Her hands slipped down his front, unzipping his jacket as they went before she slid her fingers up under his shirt tracing the outline of his abs.

“I want to see you..” she whispered dangerously close to his lips. He let out what could only be described as a growl before shrugging off his jacket before sending it off in the same direction as he had her shirt. He sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head before flinging that too to the slowly growing pile of clothes.

When entering her bedroom, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. So the only light that could be seen was that from the hallway of her apartment and the light from the bustling city outside. Both made his body glow like a god. He was simply heavenly.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position. It was now her turn to show him some love. She peppered wet kisses all over his chest, paying more attention to his collar bones, knowing he loved it when she kissed him there. He let out a gasp of almost relief at getting to feel her lips on his body again. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he relished in the feeling of her lips and tongue everywhere on his torso and her hands everywhere else.

But as much as he love it, he had to stop her. He was the one who had to make it up to her. He was the one who had to make amends. Bucky brought his hands down onto her shoulders and pushed her away from him, looking down at her as she looked up at him.

Quite the sight she was. The patched of wet on her neck from his kisses shone in the dim but colourful light from the city. Her eyes were somehow both innocent and devious. And her lips were parted, letting out soft pants that fluttered against his skin.

“This is about you, doll” he whispered to her in a low voice as he carefully pushed her back down onto the bed “this is only about you” she didn’t answer him with words but just gave him a kind look which he took as a sign to continue.

And continue he did.

Once again, his mouth fell on her skin, moving further and further down her body. His fingers hooked into the waist band of her pyjama bottoms making sure to get her underwear as well before effortlessly pulling them down and tossing them to the pile. Now leaving her in all her naked glory. Bucky got to his knees again and looked down at her. She was the heavenly one to him. Glowing like a goddess. Shining like a queen. And she was all his. Bucky smiled at the thought before shuffling further down her bed and slowing himself between her thighs, now face to face with her glistening wetness.

“Oh baby” he whispered, more to himself really. He slipped his arms around her thighs to pulled her closer to him. His tongue slipped out past his lips and teased her clit making her whimper as her finger slid back into his hair. He did thins a couple more times before giving her what she wanted.

His tongue flattened between her folds making her moan and arch her back into the air. “Bucky..” she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her voice trailed off into desperate gasps, rolling her hips into his mouth. He didn’t try to stop her. He was just as desperate for her as she was for him.

His arms tightened around her thighs holding her closer to him, his face now literally buried between her legs eating her out like a starved man. But in some respects he was, he was one month starved of her. He was going to make up for that lost time.

Bucky’s mouth had now fully engulfed her mound making her writhe with pleasure under him, moaning his name and digging her nails into his scalp making his groan in response, the vibrations sent more pleasure coursing through her body. His tongue swirled round and round her clit.

She cried out his name when he sucked harshly on her sensitive bud, her hips bucking up against his mouth “fuck...Bucky..” she panted. But Bucky didn’t respond, he just carried on eating his month overdue meal.

It wasn’t long before she felt her climax approaching. This she didn’t need to vocalise. Bucky could always tell when she was close without her having to say a word. So he went harder making her mouth fall open and her hands go limp in his hair as pleasure consumed every inch of her being. He hummed along with her breathless moans and slowed his tongue, working her through her climax before removing his mouth from her and slipping his arms from her thighs.

“Was that good?” He asked. A rhetorical question. He knew the answer already.

“Yes...” was all she could say, her body still reeling from the intense pleasure.

He kissed his way back up her chest and ghosted his lips over her “do you want some more?” He whispered roughly making her body tingle. (Y/N) couldn’t answer him with words, nor any action. All she could do was whimper in agreement, but that was good enough for him.

Bucky’s fingers wandered back down her sides as he pushed his lips back onto hers in a deep and slightly sloppy kiss, his tongue wasting no time in intruding into her mouth, not that she was in any fit state to deny him access anyway. (Y/N) could feel the cool metal fingers dance along her slick folds and she instinctively spread her legs a little more.

“So you do want more?” He asked with a dark chuckle as he pulled back from her lips again. She looked up at him through her lashes and hazy eyes.

“Yes James...” she whispered knowing what it did to him when she said his name. It drove him crazy. This whole venture had caused great strain in his boxers, he was rock hard but he knew he could hold out for a little longer. He still didn’t feel he had made amends yet.

He sat back in his knees again and ran his hands along the curves of her body, bringing them both between her thighs and dragging both thumbs between her folds. The contrast of his warm flesh and his cold metal thumbs was simply divine. It was making her head spin as he continued to massage her pussy. It was so dizzying that she almost missed his question.

“Which one do you want?” He asked her. She knew it was in reference to which hand she wanted him to finger her with. Ideally she wanted both but she had always favoured his left. Something about that metal arm could work wonders that nothing or no one else could.

(Y/N) brought her hands to his shoulders and glided her right hand down his left arm. The look in her eyes was indication enough that his left was the one she wanted, although, he could’ve guessed that before he even asked. His flesh hand rested on her stomach to hold her hips in place as he sunk two cold fingers into her heated core.

She let out a strangled moan and reached out for his wrist as he began pumping his metal fingers in and out of her soaking pussy. Her eyes bore into the almost black metal of his vibranium arm. She hadn’t, in their month apart, forgotten how much she loved his metal arm, but her memory had failed to replicate just how amazing it made her feel. She became a whimpering and moan mess under his touch, incapable of saying anything other that splutters of his name.

Bucky looked down at his treasure with fond and almost proud eyes. Proud that he was able to bring such a strong willed, beautiful woman down to such a submissive being. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she became utterly at his mercy, she was completely speechless and practically breathless as well.

He didn’t go fast, but he didn’t go slow either. He always knew the perfect pace to set to drive her crazy. His fingers were still just as dizzying as before and she was rendered completely useless under his touch. But that was what he wanted. He wanted her to feel the best she possibly could. He wanted to make her feel the best she possibly could. And he almost was. Almost.

“Bucky...please..” she pleaded.

“Please what baby?” He asked, twisting and turning his fingers inside her making her face twist and turn with pleasure.

“I want...fuck...I want you...” she managed to say. Bucky hummed lightly to himself and eased his fingers out of her, placing her fingers on her clit and guiding them round in circles. She looked at him in confusion but he only smirked down at her.

“I don’t want your pleasure to end, doll” he told her before reaching over to the beside table knowing there would be condoms in there. He was right. He fished one out and took it between his teeth before momentarily climbing off the bed to rid himself of his bottoms layers of clothing.

She watched him with keen eyes as he undressed himself, her fingers still circling her clit as thoughts began to fill her mind of what was to come. With his clothes now gone, he ripped open the foil packet and slipped the item onto his solid length before climbing back onto the bed. He gave her a final look to make sure she was still okay. (Y/N) nodded her head a little, giving him the go ahead.

Her fingers stopped and there was a brief moment between them before he began pushing himself inside her making them both groan in pleasure and relief. “Fuck..” he hissed “I forgot how tight you are”

“Hmm...and I forgot how big you are..” she said, her fingers stroking over his v-line as he continued to sink himself into her.

He let out a long breath as he finally bottomed out in her. He felt weak but in a good way. Perhaps a better way to describe it would be relaxed. He fell onto his forearms either side of her head, his face right up close to hers. “I love you” he whispered.

“I love you” she whispered back with a soft smile. Her hands dropped from his hair falling flat on the pillow, he took it upon his to entangle his fingers with her, gripping her hand lightly as he began to slowly roll his hips along hers.

Out of all the things she loved about Bucky, this was near the top of the list. Not the sex as such. The fact that he always wanted to hold her hands as he fucked her. No matter what position it was, he always found a way to have at least on of her hands in his. She didn’t know why and she didn’t want to ask. She didn’t know if he was really even aware that he did it and she was afraid that if she asked then he would stop. But she guessed that perhaps it was a comfort thing, because it definitely brought comfort to her.

Her room was soon filled with the sound of skin on skin, whimpers, pants, moan and groans, and the sound of them whispering sweet nothing and words of praise to each other as his hips gradually began picking up their pace.

Bucky was in heaven. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to be inside her. To have her slick walls pull him in. She was utterly divine. Despite this though, he didn’t much like hearing the sounds he was making. So he buried his face in her neck again in an attempt to muffled his noises at least. It worked for the most part. She was making him feel so good that he couldn’t suppress his noises, but now the sounds of her were really the only ones he could hear.

And they were music to his ears. Sweet, sweet music as her fingernails dug into the back of his hand. He had now established his pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Not too hard but hard enough to ensure he hit that spot inside her perfectly every time. He wanted her to forget about everting else and just remember this. The here and now. And he though the best way to do that was to send white hot pleasure coursing through her veins, making her see stars and making his name the only thing she could say.

That was most certainly the case. It felt as though her body was on fire. His hips angled perfectly to hit that special spot every time. And his smell. That wonderful smell of his only heightened her pleasure. Filling her nose and making her dizzy. Everything about him was dizzying. But in the best possible way. She wouldn’t have it any different and she certainly wasn’t willing to let him go a second time and risk loosing him forever.

Bucky’s hips seemed to falter briefly as he let out a weak moan, his arms shaking a little too. He was close. And so was she. Both of them were squeezing each other’s hands as he drove his hips just that little bit faster and harder into her, his breath coming out in hot, fast pants against the wet skin of her neck. “(Y/N)...Oh fuck...(Y/N)” he moaned against her.

“B-Bucky...James...come with me” his body shook from hearing his name fall so sweetly off her lips. He managed to pull his head from her neck and slammed his lips down onto her, he always wanted to be kissing her if he could when they came. Just another one of the many things she adored about him.

His breath picked up even more and his fingers began to flex in hers before he rolled his forehead onto hers, their pants of pleasure mixing. He let out a somewhat strangled moan as he came, she followed closely behind him, her walls flexing around his throbbing length as she arched her back into his chest, he knees digging into his waist again.

He began to slow his hips, bringing them both down from their glorious highs. His lips found hers again in lighter kisses. “Fuck...” he whispered “god you’re so good..”

“Me?” She giggled “it’s you who’s the good one”

“Well..” he began between kisses “it takes two to tango I guess”

She all but burst out laughing at this “oh wow!” She said happily making him smile brightly “you are something else Mr Barnes. And I love you for it”

“I love you for a lot of things. That pretty laugh and beautiful smile for one” he told her. He released his hands from hers and slowly pulled out of her before getting off the bed and padding to the bathroom to discard his condom. Whilst he was doing that, (Y/N) sat up, her body still relishing in the pleasure, and leaned over the bed to fish out his shirt before searching for a clean pair of underwear to put on. She also pulled out his boxers knowing he slept in nothing else but them.

She laid them out on the bed before climbing under the sheets and waiting for him to come back. Thankfully it wasn’t long. He walked back into her room in all his naked glory. Her face burned as if she were a teenager seeing a naked body for the first time and not a person who had just been fucked so beautifully by said naked man.

Bucky spied his boxers and picked them up of the bed muttering a thanks as he slipped them on and slipped into bed next to her. Before she had a chance to attempt to snuggle into him, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck, holding her flush against him.

For a while, there was a silence between them. It was Bucky who finally broke it by taking in a long breath and letting it back out.

“(Y/N)” he said quietly to her as she slowly ran her fingers through his soft hair. She hummed in response “I really am sorry...for what I did. I don’t really know what I was thinking-“

“Bucky, don’t” she stopped him from continuing his pointless apology “I’ve already forgiven you and I was never angry with you in the first place. I told you already. I understand your reasoning. But I don’t want to hear you apologising any more. It’s in the past. Now, I just want to spend each day with you”

“You will because I don’t want to leave you and I don’t want you to leave me. I want a constant in my life that isn’t just regret or pain. I want happiness and love. And only the happiness and love that you give me”

“I don’t plan on ever letting you go that easy again Bucky. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me”

“Perfect”

15/04/21

[gospelofme]

Unfortunate Eavesdropping

I’m so sorry guys. But I had to.

Echo picked at the food in front of him. His appetite was slowly returning, but he felt this was more homesickness than lack of interest. More than once he had laid awake wondering if he had made the right decision, leaving the 501st for Clone Force 99. He hadn’t gotten much opportunity to catch up with Captain Rex after he was rescued. There just never was a good time, between evading the Techno Union and processing his freedom. Captain Rex had looked different from when Echo had last seen him. He looked like he had seen things he wished he hadn’t.

“If you don’t eat that food, the Kaminoans will feed you via that tube again.” Tech pointed out, not looking up from his datapad. Echo made a face, he had hated that tube. He took a bite of tasteless food and tried to force himself to like it. He had wanted to access records and files on his comrades, but he feared what he would find. The list of those KIA and MIA grew every day.

Behind him, two clones sat down and were in the midst of chatting about something. Echo tried not to listen in on their conversation, he’d always considered that rude.

“So apparently the 501st has a missing medic, Kix.”

“Why does his name sound familiar?”

“Well, rumor has it, he was seen with that one ARC Trooper who went kriffin’ insane and tried to murder the Chancellor.”

“Yeah! What was his name...”

“Fives I think...yeah, because his number was all fives.”

Echo froze. Tech froze. Crosshair froze. Wrecker froze. Hunter froze. Clone Force 99 looked apprehensively at their new member. They’d researched him when he joined their squad, just to get some background information. It was clearly documented that Echo had partnered up with ARC Trooper Fives on numerous missions. That their relationship went all the way back to being cadets together. They’d known what had happened to Fives, just the surface information though. Tech hadn’t been able to crack the access code for the confidential stuff.

Hunter hadn’t been sure how to bring up the fact his batch brother had lost it. Fives hadn’t been the first trooper to do so, another one killed his General as well.

“Apparently Fox had to put him down when he trapped General Skywalker and Captain Rex in a warehouse. But it’s weird how the medic is now missing.”

Echo turned around on the bench,

“What did you say?” He asked the troopers behind him. One glanced over his shoulder,

“That the 501st has a missing medic?” He repeated himself.

“No, before that. About the ARC Trooper?” Echo clarified, his voice calm and even.

“Oh him, just that he lost his kriffin’ mind and tried to shoot the chancellor.” The trooper next to him giggled a bit, crossing his eyes and circling his finger near his temple in the sign for crazy. Both troopers laughed at that.

Crosshair tried, but wasn’t fast enough with grabbing Echo, who sat across from him. The recovering ARC-Trooper swung a hard left fist that connected with the trooper in front of him. The man fell, knocked out cold, as his buddy leapt to defend him. Echo was thrown backwards onto the table, Hunter shoving the attacking trooper away from him. Crosshair quickly grabbed Echo’s arms and pulled him across to the other side of the table.

“Later Echo, you can’t afford to get disciplined right now!” He whispered to his newest brother.

The team escorted Echo back to their barracks, Echo silently fuming the whole way. They hung back, allowing their new brother to stalk ahead of them.

“How dare he disrespect Fives like that!” He ranted when he got back to their quarters. Silence answered him.

“How can he say those things!?” He asked. Silence answered him.

Echo sat up and looked over at his new team.

“He was wrong to talk like that!” He shouted at them. Tech was the first to speak up, to meet his gaze as the others couldn’t.

“But...he wasn’t wrong...” he began tentatively, Echo standing up to confront him.

“Factually I mean.” Tech hurried on. Echo looked confused.

“He did try to assassinate the Chancellor. They’re saying a virus is what caused him to go crazy. That’s the story anyways.” Tech explained as gently as he could.

“You’re wrong.” Echo stated bluntly. He was three seconds away from walking out on this squad. He would find a shuttle and use it to get back to the 501st and ask General Skywalker himself.

Tech must’ve seen the change in body language from defiance to defeat. He approached his brother carefully, holding out his datapad with the files pulled up.

“That’s all we could get...there is a confidential addition but it’s protected. I couldn’t break the code.” Echo took the datapad and sat down on his bunk. His face remained expressionless as he read through the report. Crosshair busied himself with cleaning his rifle, Wrecker added a couple tallies to the wall. Hunter and Tech sat in silence. The report wasn’t long, but it seemed to take Echo hours to read it. Realistically it was only 10 minutes, but the silence seemed to make it stretch.

The sound of metal clattering to the floor made them jump. They looked to Echo who had his face partially buried in his left hand. His other, with the access key attached, was propped awkwardly against his forehead. He was weeping. His prosthetic slipped and Echo shook his right arm in frustration, as if trying to shake the access key off.

“I can’t even cry properly anymore!” He yelled.

Hunter got up and went to the distressed clone’s side. He wasn’t good at this, none of them were. Comfort wasn’t something they knew how to bestow on others, apart from each other. But Echo was one of them now. He put a hand on Echo’s back apprehensively. He wasn’t sure how much contact his brother wanted.

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Echo asked, wiping tears from his face with his hand.

“Who?”

“Rex! He didn’t say anything about Fives to me! Nothing!! Neither did the General!” Echo said exasperatedly.

“You were in no state, mental or physical, to be told such information.” Crosshair said from across the room. He didn’t look up from polishing a scope lens that was already spotless. He was the least experienced with comforting others, but Hunter was pleased that he at least tried. Echo wanted to debate that point, but couldn’t find any valid comeback.

“There was another trooper who went...” Tech started, a look from Hunter made him search for another word.

“...who lost control, they think it was the same virus. He shot and killed his General. Fives pulled him away from her and that’s when they think he contracted the virus.” Echo gave Tech a look that reinforced how much bullshit he thought that cause was. Tech put his hands up defensively,

“Their words, not mine.” He added.

“And now Kix is missing...” Echo said weakly. Hunter stayed silent.

“Do you think they’re even looking for him? Are they even aware he is gone?” Echo asked, it was almost rhetorical.

“Of course they are. Medics are pretty essential.” Hunter said immediately, unsure if it would help comfort Echo.

Echo shifted away from Hunter, who took the hint and backed off. He got off Echo’s bunk as his brother laid down, his back to them. He needed time to process the loss of the last member of his batch squad. The loss of his best friend. The team knew Echo didn’t sleep at all that night, as they heard him quietly weeping.

Tag List

@jgvfhl @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun

@baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

[darthmaulification]

motherless child, you will go from this place | darth maul

A/N: i don’t plan on doing any type of october list (not this year at least) but i had enough in me to write something a bit darker for the all hallow’s eve season. 🎃👻

title is (almost) the name of one of the soundtrack songs from the movie the blackcoat’s daughter (2015), which is a very good psychological horror/thriller that i highly recommend (that is, if you enjoy slower films that are more implicit in their messaging). 😊

also, how is it that i am easily able to write a 900+ word count maul fic in like an hour, but when i have to hit that same word count for my american gov & politics essay, it takes days and i have an emotional breakdown? 🤔🤔 duality of man.

hope you enjoy! 😈💗

summary: when orestes killed clytemnestra, did he ever ask himself for the amnesty of her blood?

content: angst, major character death, murder, of who i think y’all can guess, and others tbh, dark!maul, mentions of blood/gore, 🚨referenced child abuse🚨, maul ties up loose ends to put it simply 🤷‍♀️

word count: 965

There are two definitive words to describe the act that is about to commence:

One: Vengeance.

Immediately before Maul does what he’s about to do, he remembers a very specific moment from his childhood that doesn’t prevent him from stopping (at all), but it does make him think.

He remembers when he was a small child, round-eyed and happier, frightened by the shadows at night, when midnight on Dathomir made the jagged landscape grow canines that threatened to tear at his flesh and kill him. Dathomir’s moon and stars were often cloaked by the thick, dark clouds in it’s atmosphere, it’s sky left as a pitch black, gapping mouth. Maul would have vivid nightmares of an indescribable, rabid beast hunting him, seizing him in it’s jaws, and eating him alive. It never helped that the planet itself pulsed with energy, made the stone walls of his childhood bedroom thrum like the beat of a heart, or the heaves of lungs, or both.

He remembers when he told her, she forced him into one of the many cramped, tiny catacombs beneath the stronghold. She dragged him, kicking and begging, to the room that she locked him in behind a thick metal door. Maul still vividly remembers pounding on it, begging to be let out, that he wouldn’t be scared anymore, the rust on his palms, but she didn’t relent. She never did.

Instead, he breathed the musty, thick air for hours after he’d screamed himself hoarse, trapped in the dark room that was, as he believed as a child, the belly of the beast.

“Should I spare you?”

Maul says the question out loud as he does what he’s planned to do for years, but he did ask, so that must mean something in the grand scheme of things. But he doesn’t really ponder that for too long, taking into account all of the noise— mostly wet, squishy sounds at this point, some gurgles, a single, final, breathy exhale— being too loud for him to think straight. Or maybe its every pent up emotion that’s clouding his mind; the anger, the fear, the hurt, every other feeling he can’t seem to name right now... 

It’s when the vibroblade makes that metallic clatter when it hits the ground does Maul become aware of A) that he’s stopped doing what he just did, and B) that the clarity is starting to creep in. The fog lifts, and Maul realizes he’s been holding his breath this whole time and sucks in so much air it expands his ribcage to the edge of pain. He does it again after the lengthy exhale, then a third time after that.

Maul feels like the weight of a lifetime has been lifted off his shoulders, that the metaphorical shackles have been severed, and that his hands and arms are wet. Any consequences or retaliation he will receive mean nothing to him right now, they are an issue bookmarked for the future, when reality starts feeling like reality again.

Right now, in the minutes immediately after Maul did what he’s done, he focuses on breathing, the tentative feeling of victory that is beginning to turn the corners of his lips upwards, and the other word that can describe the act that just commenced:

Two: Matricide.

noun. The killing of one’s mother.

Talzin, mutilated and broken, is face down in a pool of blood that is steadily growing in size as it leaves her body from all the holes he put in it. The edge of it reaches his boots, and Maul doesn’t step back and instead watches as it molds around the tips, the thick goo congealing at the rim. When he looks to the broad expanse of wine dark red before him, he can see the reflection of his silhouette in it, an image obscured by the dimness of the room, made only the faintest of portraits on its surface.

Perhaps that’s a good analogy for how her blood— on the floor and splattered all over him— is half of what makes his, creates him some nameless father he’s never met and Talzin. Only now, her blood isn’t symbolically flowing through his veins, it’s drenched his hands and splattered droplets on his chest and face. Maul didn’t intend to get this messy with it, this sloppy, but he’s never been one to kill honorably anyways, so he gives the quality of his handiwork no thought.

Maul looks at his hands and watches the tendons flex under the blood, watches as the dark crimson shimmers to a cherry in the light, admires how it smears on his forearms, blending into the red and black of his skin. He emerged from this same blood years ago as a babe from the womb, and again he is created from it— pushed from it the way fractured bone may break the skin, or how lightning splits the sky.

Perhaps, the spilling of his mother’s blood becomes him. Maul can’t help the smile that bares all his teeth to the lifeless body on the floor, nor can he the raspy laugh the bubbles deep in his chest and erupts with a scoffing bark. He just stands there, and laughs. 

When the Nightsisters arrive only seconds later, Maul gathers himself with one more humorless chuckle and forgoes the vibroblade he used to kill his mother in favor of his lightsaber he’s used to kill everyone else. The first Nightsister leaps at him with a pained, heartbroken battle cry and probably seeks out the same thing he did. Maul ignites both ends of his saber, making the room glow red with a hiss.

The Nightsisters don’t stand a chance, and he paints Dathomir scarlet with them.

In the end, Maul uses both words in tandem to describe what he did.

[joaquinwhorres]

Give Thanks (Bucky Barnes x OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names--amends he needs to make. When he gets to M. & L. Kaminski, he finds the amends process a bit more...difficult than it should be. 

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. 

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. They were a light brown--taupe almost, standing out brightly in contrast to her long, full eyelashes. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Mina Kaminski."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Mina Kaminski?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, people who look like me aren't all named Singh or Patel" 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "Bucky Barnes as in Captain America and Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking out her long dark hair, waves tousled together from having probably just woken up. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Mina's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Mina reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Mina said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Mina in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Mina started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Mina alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Mina turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Mina prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Mina said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Mina sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Leela will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

[beskarberry]

Valkyrie

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 4

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote?There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!”

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.8k

Content warnings: Canon-typical violence, SEX POLLEN + rough sex, oral sex (m receiving) and kink talk (not gonna list all of them but they’re all very common.) There’s another filk song reference in this one that I’ll link in the replies.

A/N: VERY IMPORTANT TAG! The bounty uses she/her pronouns so if girl on girl violence makes you squeamish please read ahead with caution! Also know that I >>do not<< use any gender-specific slurs (b*tch, c*nt, etc.)

<-Previous Next->

Everything. Was. Purple.

Purple! The grass, the sky, the trees, if you could call them that. The pulsating, gelatinous towers that spiraled into the sky were definitely alive, but you weren’t sure if ‘tree’ was a fitting word for them. Their branches were long and hanging, weighed down by some kind of berry or fruit that glowed with teal streaks. Your next bounty was on a habitable moon orbiting an enormous gas giant that took up the entire skyline. It was lush with vegetation and sparsely populated, a perfect hideout for an Ardennian.

The Razor Crest was parked in a meadow of lavender grass, though once again you questioned your choice of words, watching the way the long wet leaves wiggled in the breeze. You breathed deep, letting the rich, humid air fill your lungs while your traveling companions followed behind you down the old ship’s ramp. Baby beans trotted right past you on stubby legs, picking things up off the ground that he probably shouldn’t be putting in his mouth, but was too sneaky for you to stop him from doing so. You heard the Crest’s access door shut, and turned to see Mando eagerly trotting along to join you.

No, not ‘Mando’... Din. Mr. Mystery finally had a name, though you were still conflicted about using it. The man had spilled so many secrets into you in such a short amount of time that the butterflies in your stomach were breeding many-legged worms. Squirming, creeping things that quickly metamorphosized back into their illustrious true selves, and you weren’t sure which part of their cycle was making you more nauseous. But they were your secrets to keep, your heart wearing his name like a locket; safely hidden where nobody but you could see.

You had slid the heavy beskar bucket back up the ladder to him while he stayed in the dark of the cockpit, the knowledge of his facial features still kept by your hands alone. The pair of you had then stood close together at the armory, him with his helmet back where it belonged and you with your bright eyed mask protecting your crown. At the equipment cache he couldn’t stop talking, pointing out and picking up a variety of weapons and traps that would work particularly well for this simian quarry. Everything had a story, and he told you all about the bounties he had pulled trophies off of, or things he had gotten as rewards for helping someone else. He’s giddy. You could only listen along as he prattled away, handing you grapple after snare until you had to start putting things back in the armory, just so you could have your hands free again.

Hands. Every time he gave you another tool of the trade to add to your ever-growing inventory his hands brushed somewhere on you. Leather tipped fingers glancing quickly on your wrist, a lingering palm on your shoulder; each fleeting touch lasting just slightly longer than the last. He was struggling to keep his hands off of you, reluctant to give up the intimacy you had both been working at in the void-black darkness of the flight deck before atmospheric reentry tore you both apart. What other prayers of devotion could he pour into you, if you’d just had a little more time? ‘You belong to them, that is The Way’. The oath he had made to you was followed coldly in your mind by another string of words, ‘I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian’.

You couldn’t think about all the words that you still needed to unpack, it was hunting time. The six-limbed simian was wanted for, checks puck notes, chemical warfare. She had blasted her way to the Guild’s Most Wanted list by lobbing incendiary bombs and poison gas grenades through a meeting of outer rim parliament, and the price on her head might have been higher than yours. The bounty puck specifically stated she was to be taken alive. Super. The droid-face mask wasn’t going to be much protection for your lungs, but it might at least keep your eyes safe. You took time to pack extra bacta and some quality rations, plus one of your new bantha-wool blankets. You woke up that morning on Tatooine, and the voice of your tortured circadian rhythm wondered if you would be sleeping rugged tonight somewhere on this heliotropic hellscape.

A bounty fob blinked lazily from the larger hunter’s belt, indicating that the quarry was on-world, but not close enough to catch. The three of you would have some walking to do. The child tried to make friends with every wiggly thing, running on his short little legs from fern to fern, hunting for treats. The little beastie’s adopted father chased him through the grass, trying, and failing, to keep him from getting into trouble. The sight of the mighty metal man being defeated so easily by a baby made you laugh, and the sound of your melodic giggles drew his attention.

“What are you laughing at?”

Oh no, I’ve been caught!  “I’m laughing at you, rust bucket! The scariest person here isn’t either of us, it’s him!” You pointed to where the child was tearing through the reeds after some kind of amphibian, and started laughing harder when Mando cursed and flew after his impish son. The rowdy child had a frog-like creature hanging from his mouth that vanished the second his dad tried to pull it away.

“Stop eating things you find on the ground!” The baby only squealed at the scolding, earning himself a grumpy, papa-patented sigh. Mando picked up the potato-sack of a child and dumped him unceremoniously into the hover-crib that floated along behind. “You can get back out when you learn your lesson! I don’t want you to get sick.” The baby made huge, sad eyes up at his dad, but Mando turned away quickly to avoid their hypnotic powers. You were doing your best to hide your giggles, covering the part of your mask where your mouth was, as if that would help. The Mandalorian strode up to you with a swagger. “Oh, you think that’s funny, cyar’ika?”

“You don’t?” You caught your reflection in the black gloss of his visor as he sauntered up to you, and your bug-eyed doppelganger only made you laugh more. A wall of beskar stood in front of you, eyeing you with slow tilts of his helmet while you got it all out of your system. When your breaths returned to normal you looked down at your hands and found that they had made friends. You had reached out for him without even thinking, and you were a little embarrassed that they had gravitated to him so naturally. He squeezed your hands gently before letting them return to you, and you heard the songs of star-lost sailors whispering in the back of your mind. The nights are long between the stars, and lonely, too, for me. I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

“Night’s coming fast, we should keep moving.” Hunting mode reactivated, your companion started towards the undulating wilderness. He wasn’t wrong, within a few hours the massive planet that hung above you drifted out of view, replaced with a sea of glittering stars. The foliage around you glowed with otherworldly colors, teals and violets splattering their dense leaves and curling down their jelly trunks. Their loveliness made it easy to distract yourself from the task at hand, your eyes chasing the occasional yellow and red flashes that blinked from insects high in the branches. Ahead of you a large old tree had fallen over, and between its trunk and its upturned roots the spot was easily defensible.

Mando busied himself with clearing squishy sticks and leaves from the area to make a campsite while you looked for something to start a fire with. Nothing looked burnable, everything had a gooey, wet consistency, but some dead leaves under the log were dried out. They would have to do. You made them into a neat pile and pushed some rocks in a circle around them for safety, now you would just need a light.

“Hey, tinman, I need some heat!” He followed your pointing finger with his helmet and waltzed over to you, happy to be of assistance. He started up his wrist mounted flamethrower and used the pilot light to set the tinder ablaze. Not even fire could escape the overwhelming purpleness of the estranged moon as the blaze kicked up a bright indigo with a low heat. You got to work getting dinner around, pulling savory Tatooine treats out of your pack, pushing some of them towards the heat source so they would be warm. At the bottom of your bag you found some soft, squashed thing, and pulled the remains of breakfast out into the light. It was mashed, but it was still probably edible. “Mando, you never ate your breakfast.”

“What?” He looked at the sad excuse for a meal that you were offering him, eyeing it with curiosity. “You got me breakfast?”

“Yes? I told you that I would, though I guess it’s dinner now. Here.” You waved it at him so he would get the hint, and he took it carefully from you with timid hands.

“T-thank you. You’re very kind.”

“And don’t you forget it!” You whooped with overwhelming confidence, but the sweet words made you blush under your mask. Before he could turn and leave the safety of the fire to find a private eating area you reached for his hand again, pulling the armored paw to your forehead and knocking it softly against your mask. Kov'nynir. A wistful sigh escaped his modulator, and you knew the act of affection was well received. He bent himself down to where you sat at the fire and pressed his own forehead against yours, rumbling with contentment. The gentle sound made your heart swell, such a simple gesture that carried so much meaning. A bounty hunter’s life was fast and dangerous, why should finding companionship be any different?

You pushed your heads together just a little harder before he pulled himself away from you to go eat. You lifted your own dinner and the baby’s from the hearth, poking at it with your fingers to make sure it wasn’t too hot for Mr. Green Beans to eat. The child took it from you eagerly, content in his protective pram and making gross little noises while he ate. The food tin you had was much better than day one’s menu: bantha meat and Tusken hardtack with a side of more mystery mush. Your partner chose to take his meal elsewhere, fading into the darkness behind the fallen log where he could remove his helmet and eat in peace. Someday he might make more sense to you. The clank! of an empty food tin hitting the ground brought your attention back to your campsite buddy, the baby having thrown his clean plate at you.

“What’s wrong, booger? You bored? Alright.” There was a tiny bit of energy still left in your bones, and what better way to spend it than entertaining your precious audience. You pulled yourself to your feet, taking a moment to dust the spores from your pants and pull your backpack on before launching into song.

“When we pulled into Naboo’s Port in need of R&R,

The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.

We had high expectations of their hospitality,

But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we!”

“And we're banned from Naboo, everyone!

Banned from Naboo, just for having a little fun!

We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,

But Naboo doesn't want us anymore!”

Green baby hands tried their best to clap in time with your sailor song, accompanied by adorable cooing noises while he tried to sing along. Your rambunctiousness summoned Mando back over to the fire, and he sat down on a large rock next to his foundling, watching you through his visor as you danced around the fire with flailing limbs.

“Our Engineer would yield to none at putting down the brew;

She outdrank seven space marines and a demolition crew!

The Navigator didn't win, but he out-drank almost all,

And now they've got a shuttlecraft on the roof of City Hall!”

You ran through the chorus again, taking a second to notice that tinman was tapping his foot to the beat along with you. You wondered briefly if they ever sang on Mandalore. You took a deep breath to continue-

“-KABOOM-!”

The fireside exploded just meters from your spinning dance, and you were hauled backwards to safety by your oathsworn protector,along with his foundling, and ushered towards the safety of the trees.

“-BOOM! Ba-BOOM! KERPLOW-!”

Trees and plants exploded on either side of you as you ran through the luminous dark. The Ardennian! Neither of you had been paying attention to the bounty fob, blinking fast and red under his cloak. Above you the sound of something swinging through the branches caught your ear, and you pulled your blaster and fired behind you.

“Bwahaha! Missed me missed me now you gotta kiss me, two-arms!” You couldn’t see her, but her taunts gave you a better idea of her position, firing several more shots towards their source. You knew you had to take her alive, but that didn’t mean intact.

“Go go go!” Mando was at your back, doing his best human shield impression while he hurried you away from the bombardment, the child’s bulky pram tucked uncomfortably under one arm. Your flight through the forest was haunted with vicious cackling and the sound of serene foliage being obliterated by the explosives that rained down around you, choking you with incendiary fumes.

A clearing materialized ahead, and the three of you rushed out from under the unmerciful trees. When you had gotten far enough from the tree line you both turned your eyes to the canopy.

“There!” Picking up her heat signature on his visor’s infrared sensors, he pointed to your target, his other arm still occupied with protecting the foundling. You grabbed the barrel of the pulse rife that was still slung over his shoulder, aimed, and fired. The ball of electricity arced from your little trio and collided with the trees, the sound of pained screams and crashes followed the wounded pyromaniac as she fell hard to the ground. Bullseye.

”Stay here, Mando, I got this! Keep him safe!” You stormed into the woods after the sounds of distress, snare at the ready to take the bounty alive. You were angry, rage powering your stride as you chased after her like a Corellian tracking hound. Angry that your sweet moment had been ruined, angry that she’d put the foundling in danger, angry that your partner had been pulled from the comfort of the fire to fulfill his duties as guardian. You sprang over roots and fallen branches, catching the sight of movement where the Ardennian was making a run for it. 

“Oh no you don’t! Get back here!”  Your words boiled with so much fury that they almost weren’t your own. Balls of fire exploded around you in a last ditch effort by the primate to kill you first. You dropped a knee into the loamy soil to steady your shot.

Woosh! The net sailed past her by mere inches, and you flew to your feet to begin the chase again.

“Ha! Grow some more arms and maybe you’ll have better aim!”  Fire erupted around you again, but the flames that seared at your eyes came from inside, burning with fuel siphoned from your heart. You took another shot.

Woosh! Miss! FUCK. You had one shot left on the snare-slinger, and you had to make it count. The trees were thinner here, how long had you been running? The simian was struggling to get away now, the long slimy branches too far apart to swing through. Behind you the sound of thunderous armored boots told you that Mando was hot on your trail, and you were glad to have the back up even though you had specifically told him to stay put. Nobody listens in this crew. Something green and gaseous poofed next to you, and the terms of the bounty puck came back to you clear as day: chemical warfare. The Ardennian was out of bombs and had switched to gas canisters, hurling a variety of brightly colored poisons at your face. Third time’s the charm.

Woosh! The net flew true, tangling in the many limbs of the fleeing quarry and throwing her to the ground. Gotcha! You bore down on her as brightly glowing vials sailed over your head, landing on something behind you with a crash! You were on her in an instant, shoving a blaster in her face.

“You’re done, chuckles! It’s over!” The fear in her eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared when she glanced back behind you.

“Ha! I don’t think so, stinky. You’re gonna have yer hands too full with that to deal with little old me.” You followed her gaze, and froze from the ice crystalizing in your veins. Mando stood a ways back, still as a statue. Bright neon pink goo slimed its way down his helmet and dripped onto his chest plate. You turned on the Ardennian again.

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote? There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!” She was howling with laughter in your grasp, and the sound of her mirth was like nails on chalkboard to your ears. You practically threw her to the ground, running back to your incapacitated partner. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Mando! Hey hey can you hear me? Tell me what’s wrong!” The glowing pink slime was still on his helmet, and you hunted for something to wipe it off with. The closest thing was his cloak, so you reached for it and went to clean the pretty pink sludge from his helmet when an armored claw shot up and caught your wrist. The action startled you, but you were happy to see him still able to move. “Mando? You ok?” Slowly, with almost robotic precision, he turned his gaze to you.

“Cyar...’ika....?” His words were long and labored, the strain of them sending a chill through your bones.

“Yes! It’s me, Mando. I’m right here, I’m gonna get you taken care of. I- I’ll find some bacta or-” Your words were cut off by another wicked claw on your shoulder.

“So... Beautiful...”  The lustful words made the gears in your head grind to a halt. Really? Right now?

“Ok great, glad to see you’re fine, now can we get back to hunt-” He cut you off with a hand at your throat.

“Beautiful.. and mouthy. So... fucking... mouthy.” A leather tipped hand snaked up your neck to your lips, grabbing at your jaw and pushing a thumb in past your teeth. You tried to spit him out but his other hand latched on to the back of your skull. “I’m going to put that mouth to good use, mesh’la.”  Your mask was tossed to the ground, and the ‘good luck’ the Ardennian had wished you now made sense. Whatever was oozing down the front of his helmet was driving him into an uncontrolled sexual frenzy, and you were the sole outlet for all his desires.

“Mando! -Blech-! Man- Din!” He stopped trying to get down your throat at the sound of his own name, hearing it for the first time from your lips. “Din! We don’t have time for this right now! Get a grip!” Oh, but he already had a grip, and it was tightening on your scalp.

“That’s right, sweetheart, say my name.”  The command dripped from his modulator the same way the poison dripped down his face, and he started walking you backwards by the hair until you bumped against a squishy tree. The change of emotion from rage to fear to confusion made your head spin, and the new contending feeling of heat building in your guts was making itself known.

“Knock it off! Fucking hell, she’s going to get away if we don’t do something right now! ”

“Let her. You’re the only one I want.” The weight of his arms on your neck and shoulders became too much, and the man who you had shared a such a sweet moment with not too long ago was now forcing you to your knees. You dropped to a kneel, and your face was hard pressed up against the solid bulge that was trying to rip its way out of his pants. He took only a second to free himself, pushing his throbbing cock against your teeth. “Open wide.”

You wished you were meeting with mini-mando under better circumstances, but if getting him off would get you back to the hunt, you were happy to help. The taste of him on your tongue sent electricity through your body, spooling up fresh heat between your own legs. Above you Mando was making deep, guttural groans as you took his cock all the way to the back of your throat, wrapping a fist around where you couldn’t reach without gagging. You glanced around his leg to where you could see the hover-crib, floating a good distance away with the shield closed tight. Good, he doesn’t need to see this. A swift thrust brought your attention back to where it was demanded.

“That’s a good girl, take it all in. Let me make a mess of that pretty little mouth of yours.” He had a death grip on the back of your hair and the side of your jaw, pushing up to keep you open enough to take his length. Inside you were swirling your tongue around the tip every time it slid past, making sultry praises flood from his modulator. Most of the words were garbled, raunchy and alien, probably Mando’a. Spit leaked from the sides of your mouth, making good on his word to make a mess of you. The claws in your hair pulled tight, forcing your nose into the tuft of soft hair at his base so he could pump your throat full of cum without you escaping. “Ahh~! That’s it, mesh’la, drink it all down.”

The hot spunk made you choke and gag, tears rushing to your eyes, but you still swallowed as best you could. When he finally let you pull away you gasped for air, coughing on the ground at his feet.

“There! *cough!* is that... -blech-, better? Can you hunt now? Are you done?” The potionmaster was probably long gone, you couldn’t hear her fucking cackling anymore.

“Cyar’ika, we’re not done until I say we’re done.” The spear at your cheek was still hard as beskar, ready for round two. The armored man yanked you to your feet, shoving you face first towards the nearest tree. The tree’s flesh was soft and squishy, a fact you would be grateful for soon enough. Your hips were pulled backwards, and a buzzing sound told you he had pulled a vibroblade from his belt, stabbing under your pants’ edge and pulling down the crack of your ass until your clothes were cut away; leaving just the legs and your boots to protect you. The cold air hitting your cunt gave away your arousal, and he zoned in on it like a falcon, pressing still-gloved fingers to your wet slit. The roughness of the leather invading you made you cry out and your knees buckle, squirming under the intrusion of one finger, then two; pumping in and out of you to stoke your flame.

“You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty, and strong. I’m gonna lose myself in you, fierce little thing, and I never want to be found.” His hands ripped away from your swollen cunt, and the head of his cock was pressed to its lips. Both of you made delicious, filthy noises as he buried himself to the hilt, the slick of his own cum making a wonderful lube. “Fuuuuuck, you’re hot inside, lovely girl. My cock was made just for you.” He barely made it a few inches out of you before he was slamming back into you again. The force of him behind you smashed you face into the soft, forgiving tree, though you wished you could find somewhere for your hands to grab hold. He fucked you like a man possessed, and you were sure there would be bruises on your hips and thighs when he was finished.

His mouth ran like surging lava. “Fucking.. Maker... beautiful girl, beautiful hunter! Hunter-killer! I knew you would be a challenge to hunt, but I never thought you would be the one to capture me! You’re a work of art on the killing field! Mmph! You are mine and I’m going to fill your belly with my warriors ‘til you’re fit to burst. They’ll be so ferocious! Born with daggers in their teeth.” Vulgar words between thrusts made your entire body hot with a mix of embarrassment and lust. You might never know if the neon goo had given him the desire to breed you, or if he adored you so much that he wanted more of you to care for, but you did know your contraceptive implant would be having none of it either way. Still, his damning words flowed. “Nobody will ever put their hands on you again but me. I’ll give you everything you desire, cyar’ika, anything you ask for will be yours. I’ll bring the stars down from the sky if you ask me to! I- I’ll- I’m gonna...”

The Mandalorian stilled behind you, twitching as his cock spilled into you and ran hot down your thighs. His breaths were gasping, broken and desperate for air. His fingers digging into the soft skin on your hips would leave their mark for sure, and though he’d done a fantastic job of scrambling your insides you still felt warmth in your chest. Even in his poisoned, delirious state of mind, all of his thoughts were of you alone. The grip on your ass loosened, and the sound of a heavy thud hitting the ground told you he had fallen down into the soft purple grass. You struggled to peel your face from the jelly tree, standing like a newborn fawn on shaky legs. The bright pink streak on his helmet had lost all its glow, and your human rust-bucket was slumped over on his side, still as the grave. Not again, fucksake. You clambered over to him, digging under his cloak with your hands until you found his pulse. Still alive.

“Alright Mando, fucking stay here this time like I told you to.” You glanced around the meadow, but the Ardennian was nowhere to be found. Fuck! All that work for nothing. You groaned, looking down at what was left of your pants. You checked all the pockets, finding your lucky krayt teeth and a bacta patch before kicking the ruined fabric off over your boots. You dropped down to the spent form of your comrade, tilting his helmet up and slapping the bacta patch on one of the hickies you had left there a few days ago. You took a moment to stuff the teeth into one of his many pouches since you no longer had pockets of your own. With your ass in the wind you made your way over to the floating pram to check on your tiny pal. “Hey beans, you doing ok? Your dad and I were just having a little-” you spun the cradle around. Empty.

“No! Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK!” The bounty had made off with Din’s infant son, your little buddy! You couldn’t stop the fear that dried your throat and brought tears to your eyes. Get a hold of yourself! Find him! NOW! Familiar rage welled up behind your eyes, and you raced back over to your unconscious guardian, still laying in the dirt and making it extra difficult to untangle the pulse rifle still slung over his back. Your hunting instincts were on high alert, and the sound of shouting caught your ears. “I’m gonna get him back, Din! Just... just fucking stay here!”

You tore off after the noise, every horrible scenario running through your head at once. Would she steal him? Would she hurt him? Would she kill him? Rage flared hot in your chest and threatened to burn you alive, your feverish skin icy with sweat. Wet leaves slapped past your bare knees so fast that their thin edges left vicious paper cuts. You didn’t care, nothing else mattered but the foundling. The sound of shouting grew louder, and you thundered though the trees to another clearing by a narrow wine-dark stream. 

“Help! This thing’s got me! Get me down, please! Get it away from me!” The simian terror was hanging in the air ahead of you. No, not hanging, floating. She was thrashing her arms, but all that did was slowly spin her in place. The sight was magical, but more important was the safety of child. On the ground near her, he stood with one fat little paw in the air, pointing at his abductor and concentrating with all his might. You didn’t know how he had escaped, or what the actual fuck he was doing, but you didn’t hesitate. You pulled the pulse rifle from your back and fired, once, twice, three times until her limp body was hanging in the air, knocked out cold. Or dead.

Baby beans crumpled to the ground, and the Ardennian followed suit, the ugly noise she made when she hit the ground brought a wicked smile to your cheeks. The baby’s little eyes were bleary and tired under his big droopy ears, and you scooped him carefully up off the ground to pull him in for a good, strong hug.

“Did you get the mean lady, sweetie? Good job! I don’t know what the fuck you did but hey, no questions asked, alright? I’m just glad you’re ok.” He smiled up at you with his tiny toothy grin before conking out in your arms, leaning heavily against your chest. You set him back down on the ground, just long enough to tie that six limbed asshole up tight, using everything you still had above the waist to keep her captured. You tied her arms to her feet and slung her limp body over you like a rucksack, then picked the foundling back up. With your bounty, baby, and bare ass you started the hike back to your fallen man.

Mando still laid where you had left him on his side, and you were annoyed to realize that, out of everybody involved, you were the only one left awake. Fantastic. You returned the baby to his floating bucket, pulling it closer to the pair of you this time, and dumped the Ardennian in the dirt. There was no way you could maneuver three bodies at once, somebody was going to have to get up and walk.

“Mando! Mando get up, we gotta go.” The man in question didn’t budge, soft, muffled snores your only response. You tried everything you could think of, pulling on his hands and legs and shouting, anything to wake his ass up. You knocked on his helmet, “Ground control to Major Mando, time to get up! Rise and shine, bucket boy!” Nothing, he was going to have to sleep the after-effects of the potion off, so he was staying right where he was.

You had no idea how far you had gotten from the campsite, and the cold night air on your bare booty made you remember your half-nakedness. On the ground scattered around the pile of living beskar was your backpack and the remains of your pants, along with the rest of your trap gear. Start packing more clothes. You went for the gear first, pulling another set of cuffs and a good strong rope out, and added a few more knots to the half-dead quarry so she wouldn’t be pulling any bullshit in the night. The backpack still had the bantha-wool blanket wrapped up tight, and you tied it around yourself like a skirt. Better than nothing.

Kneeling on the ground next to your Mandalorian, you cleared yourself a space to sit down, taking an extra second to make sure all his bits were tucked back out of view. You leaned back against the crook of his hips, feeling the slow rise and fall of his belly at your back. You were so tired, how many times had you been on the run in the last cycle alone? Your body desperately craved sleep, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bounty. Anger crept its way back into your eyes again, and you wanted to take it out on her, channel your inner rancor. No, she’s already lost. Go to sleep.

But the merciful tug of sleep didn’t come, and when you realized why you felt foolish. The child’s pram was on the ground where you had pushed it next to his fathers’ armored head. He was sleeping like a little prince, and didn’t move at all when you pulled him out of the crib. When he was situated in your arms you pulled Mando’s cloak around the three of you for extra warmth. Sitting upright was a horrible way to sleep, but with the baby safely in your arms and a blaster at your side, you were able to catch a handful of winks.

You woke up many times that night, worried that something might happen to your baby or your partner, and each time your eyes shot open you glared at the dark form in the grass; though not once did it move. Still, you didn’t trust that you were safe, and only when the rim of the planet that dominated the sky drifted over the horizon could you actually keep your eyes closed. But the blissful comfort of real sleep was torn from you by your lounge chair trying to get up on its own. The rush from trying to sit up too fast knocked Mando right back down on his back, and his hands went to his armored temples to try to stop the world from spinning.

“What...where am... where’s....” He shot up like a bolt of lightning “WHERE’S MY SON?!”

“Right here!” You turned yourself to show the bug-eyed bundle to his father, letting him see that the child was safe. Mando wrapped his arms around you and the child, and you could hear his quick, shuddering breaths coming out from under the helmet. The hug was tight, a comforting fortress around your shoulders.

“Are you ok? What happened? Why are we in the grass? Where’s the bounty? Did she get away?” His questions gushed like a river, urgent and frightened. You pointed at where the Ardennian was still on the ground, far enough away that she was out of earshot. She was awake now, but still immobilized. Her eyes were fixed on you, and you could see the edges of her mouth turning upwards into a snarl to bare her teeth. Din’s hands were all over you, inspecting you for damage, and his breath caught in his throat when he reached your waist. Big, ugly red and purple fingerprints were swelling up between the scrapes on your skin, and he pushed the edge of your makeshift skirt down to follow their horrifying trail; they were everywhere.

“Who did this to you?”  The volcano behind the beskar threatened to erupt with molten malevolence, “Did she do this to you?”

“No Mando,” you sighed, a little hurt that he didn’t remember. “You did.” The wall of metal armor went stiff as a rail, his visor locked on your eyes, looking for the truth. But the truth was right in front of him, and he couldn’t accept it.

“What? N-no.. I would never... I could never hurt you, cyar’ika! Please... please tell me that I didn’t do this.” His fingers ghosted over your marks, but never touched them, his hands afraid of dealing more damage to your lovely skin. “I-I couldn’t have... I’m... I’m so sorr-” You cut him off with a hand on his helmet where his mouth might be.

“It’s not your fault, you were poisoned. I’m just glad you’re alive, Din.” The sound of his own name made his shoulders droop and his hands come up cradle your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his visor, the closeness of the distraught hunter making you flustered, so you tried to crack a joke. “I’m just glad you wanted to fuck me instead of the Ardennian.” The way his helmet snapped backwards made you realize he didn’t remember that part either. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I took it like a champ! You’re gonna have to do better than bruises to hurt this mighty hunter!” Your attempted words of comfort didn’t seem to work, and he pulled you and the wiggly child back to his chest in a world-erasing hug.

“Please just tell me you know I wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, I never want to hurt you again. Please.”

“Mando! I’m fine, really.” He held your head firmly, the blackness of the visor trying to bore though your very soul. You nodded in his grasp, “I know you didn’t, it’s alright, Din. I forgive you.” The force of his helmet knocking against your forehead almost made you see stars. His hands were wrapped around your head, holding you as close as he could in the intimate gesture of his people. You didn’t blame him at all for what happened, but it would be a while, if ever, before he could forgive himself.

“Oh isn’t that puke. Spare me the lovey-dovey crap and take me back to the Guild already! Buncha bucketheads.” You didn’t want to address the Ardennian that hollered at you from from the grass, but the beskar bucket turned on her in a heartbeat. He sprang to his feet in a flash, pulling the pulse rife from the ground and firing, stunning the target for the fourth time, fifth time, sixth, seventh.

He’s gonna kill her. You grabbed at his arm, demanding his attention “Mando, you got her, it’s over! It’s done.” Stance wide and chest heaving, the barrel of the long rifle stayed trained on the bounty for what seemed like an eternity before being lowered back to the ground. “Good, good, see, everyone’s ok. Let’s get back to the Crest and get out of here, sound like a plan?” He nodded, still watching the limp-again simian for signs of movement. When he was sure there wouldn’t be any more argument he stalked over to the quarry and slung her over his shoulder, ready to make the long march back to the ship. You set the baby back in his pram so you could take a second to grab everything off the ground, making sure you had your pack and your mask, and followed Mando back through the woods.

After hours of silent hiking, the Razor Crest came into view, and you had never been so happy to see the old girl, pretty as a plum in the violet haze. Once everyone was aboard, the fog of the carbonite chamber filled the tiny cabin to the brim, and left a new dark block in its wake. The Ardennian’s body was limp, though thankfully still alive; but the mischievous sneer couldn’t be erased so easily. You took a deep breath, sighing with relief that this hunt was over. Two down, one to go. Then Nevarro.

Your Mandalorian hadn’t spoken to you the entire trek back to the ship, and he was distracting himself by placing all the weaponry back in their spots in the cabinet. He’s still upset with himself. You still wore the bantha-blanket skirt, and its soft edges swished around your ankles. Gently you placed your hand on his shoulder, and he jumped violently under your touch as he was brought back to the present.

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” He didn’t meet your eyes, but his hands stopped fussing with the armory. “Really, Din, I don’t blame you at all. I’m ok.” You tugged on his waist, bidding him to turn and face you, but still he couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. You ran your hands from his shoulders down his chest, trying to bring him comfort with your touch, but when you saw his utility belt you remembered what was in his pockets. A flashbulb of an idea lit up in your skull, and clear as day the reason for your frivolous purchase on Tatooine made itself known. “You know what, I’m so not-mad at you that I have a present for you.” You grabbed his belt to dig through the pouches, but strong hands shot up to carefully take your wrists.

“Mesh’la no! Not after.. not after I- I can’t. I don’t deserve your affections.” Your eyes met his visor, its gaze no longer staring down at the floor and instead watching you with intensity. A smile broke it’s way out past your teeth, followed by a knowing laugh.

“No, that’s not what I meant, good thought though. No, Mand-...Din. Din, I have a gift for you.”  He hesitated to release your arms, but when you were free of his delicate hold you went back to the pockets on his belt and pulled the opalized krayt teeth from one of the pouches. Your companion’s visor followed the glittering treasures as they were brought into the light, and you wished you could see his bewildered face under the beskar. You handed them to him, and he carefully turned them over in his palm, letting the fossils catch the light and revealing their intricate patterns. His helmet tilted slowly, baffled that such beautiful things could be pulled from anywhere on his body, but the way his beskar sent streaks of light over his armor gave you a fantastic new idea.

Taking the treasures back from him you unscrewed the button fasteners that protruded from their backs, revealing the small, strong magnets hidden underneath; and pressed them up to his helmet. The teeth fit perfectly in the recesses of his cheeks, like they had been made just for him; and though you knew hunters didn’t wear adornments, they still looked lovely. “I know you can’t keep them on, especially when we go hunt, but they still look nice on you. Now you get to be my lucky charm.” His soft leather fingertips rubbed gently at his cheeks, feeling the way the indents had been filled with the precious jewels. The ship didn’t have any mirrors, and he would have to see how the swirling pools of crystalized moonlight looked the next time he took his helmet off. 

Wordlessly he reached out for you, taking your face in his hands and pulling your head to his so he could press your foreheads together. You were becoming fond of the mysterious gesture, letting the butterflies in your stomach stretch their iridescent wings and fan contentment into your heart. You pushed back against him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders, locking his helmet to you. The whole galaxy could fly apart at the seams and you knew you would be alright, as long as you were right where you were, shielded in your Mandalorian’s embrace. I wonder if he feels the same. Tiny claws on your leg pulled your attention to the floor, and you were overjoyed to see big black orbs staring up at you.

“Little Beans! C’mere you, get in on this.” You hauled the foundling up between your bodies, letting him get a good look at you and his father. He chirped away, happily patting his papa’s fancy new trinkets, mesmerized by their shine. The little creature was full of energy, but you had been on your last leg for hours and you couldn’t stifle your yawns any longer. “Boys, I can’t keep this up anymore, you’re both awful cute, but I need sleep.”

“Of course, cyare, you’ve earned it.” Mando reluctantly stepped away from you and rolled out the Tusken sleeping mat that you had purchased. It was much thicker than the sheet originally on the little cot, and a hundred times more forgiving. You were comfy in seconds, and the warm embrace of sleep started pulling on your limbs and shutting your eyes. A different touch was on your arm, and you lazily opened one eye to see an armored hand pulling the bantha blankie up snug around you. Sweet, thoughtful murder-machine is what you had thought of him that first day, and the stupid pet name made you chuckle.

“What does that mean? That word, sire-eeka or sigh-air, they’re Mando’a, right?” You wouldn’t let sleep win you over without a fight, even if it was a fight you wanted to lose.

“Cyar’ika. The closest translation in Basic would be sweetheart, or darling.” Here we go again with Mando’a 101.

“Sweetheart, huh? Pfft... sounds like you like me or something. What’s the other word mean? You’ve never used it before now.” He sighed, long and tired, and you could see the foundling on his lap, still enthralled with the glittering opal on his fathers' metal face.

“I...I don’t know how to translate that one, but it’s more than cyar’ika, stronger, with more depth.” Something about his posture told you he might be lying, he knew exactly how to translate that word, but he wasn’t ready to tell it to you. He might, though, when he was ready.

“Alright, tin man, if you say so.” Your eyes finally let themselves close all the way, but even in the darkness behind your lids your devious hands still found their way to him, giving his hand a good squeeze. “Teach me more someday?”

“For you, ner cyare’se,” Your hand was pulled up from the blankets until the backs of your knuckles rested on the cool beskar of his brow, “I’d bring you the stars down from the sky, if you asked me to.”

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