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ussgallifrey · 6 months ago

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(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 28

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, domestic Avengers living in relative normalcy until things turn south, language, official team movie nights, political commentary, political discourse, protective Steve Rogers.

✦ Word Count: 6.2k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Hey! Here we are at Civil War. You might find a few things to be a clear change up from the original source material while others stay about the same.

[Master List]

The twins had really started to come into their own after a few weeks of training sessions at the Compound. With a state-of-the-art gym at their disposal and a plethora of willing trainers on hand, you had taken note of the subtle changes.

At first, they preferred to remain in their quarters on the south end of the residence, rarely talking to anyone outside of yourself and Steve (and Vision, at times). And, at the Captain’s insistence, they began a training regime to get them up to task. Even though they would not be participating in any active missions until they turned eighteen.

Pietro rebelled, at first, against Steve’s program. He was insistent on the fact that his enhanced speed was more than enough to take down anyone who crossed his path. And then he met your unmoveable shield and, after his ego took a minor beating, he agreed to try out a strengthening system.

Wanda’s training was one of a kind. Even though Natasha had offered to give her a basic rundown program of defensive combat skills and firearms training, she had declined at every turn. You were her trainer.

Or more accurately, her test dummy.

As you slam into the wall mats once again, you hold a thumbs up for her to see before waving your hand a moment later.

“Good,” you grit, fighting back the twinge of pain that blossoms from the base of your spine as you move back onto your feet. “That was better.”

A hint of a smile flits across her lips before she regains her composure, her misting red hands falling to her side.

“Great heights can work to your advantage. Most everyone you will come across will experience negative effects if you drop them from such a distance. Me included,” you add under your breath.

You had been at it for the better part of an hour now. Her magic was temperamental at times, but she was getting a better grasp on it as time went by. Being free of HYDRA’s hold had given her the chance to truly feel her powers; and reacquaint herself with them, in all honesty.

“Okay, let’s work on disarming.”

“No,” she groans, already taking a step back.

You can’t help but chuckle as you move toward the edge of the room.

While the rest of the team worked in the large gym down the hall, Wanda had been given access to this room. Every square inch was padded (for your benefit, really), and the walls were reinforced with the strongest metal Tony could acquire. If anything went wrong, the padding would act as an immediate barrier to whatever destruct force occurred during training.

Your workouts with the seventeen-year-old had started off small - focusing on moving objects across the room with accuracy. Followed by larger weighted objects. And then, onto training dummies. And eventually, onto you. The most sturdy person on the entire team who could handle a few rounds with the enhanced teenager.

Now, she could physically pick you up and chuck you against whatever target you laid out for her. Despite the occasional aches, you were incredibly pleased with the progress she was making.

“Come on,” you playfully push at her arm. “You know how he gets.”

She sighs, “He gets that face, like… disappointment but worse.”

With an arm wrapped around her shoulders as you steer her out of the room, you laugh in agreeance, “That’s Captain America for you.”

Arriving in the lavish gym, you find Pietro in the ring with the supersoldier. The teen’s got boxing gloves on, while Steve holds up the punch shields for him to hit. While Wanda moves to stand near the ring, you remain by the weight machines.

He’s just about perfected Pietro’s movement now. His footwork has made great leaps and strides, and, if it was actually a real fight, Steve wouldn’t mind if the teen was using his enhanced speed to move around him. As it is, this is only part of his strengthening regime.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages, twisting to move with Pietro.

You watch the semblance of a dance that’s taking place between the two; between student and instructor. Pietro’s sweating bullets, his tank is drenched and his white curls are clinging to his forehead while the man opposite him merely smiles - not a sign of exertion to be found.

“Okay,” he smiles as the boy drops his gloves to his sides, chest heaving. “That was better than yesterday. You gotta work on your - ” he demonstrates a particular left jab and uppercut combo for him. “But we’ll focus on that later. Right now, I have to work with your sister.”

“You were brilliant,” Wanda beams as Pietro pushes his way through the ropes, dropping down beside her on the ground, “Eww, wait! No! Don’t - god, you stink - don’t!”

Steve huffs a breath of laughter as the boy moves to envelop his sister in a particularly sweaty hug. His azure eyes meet yours from across the gym, and while the other two occupants are distracted, he makes his way out of the ring and over to you.

You flash him a smile as he draws near, running a hand through his blonde locks.

“How’d she do?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his track pants.

“Better,” you shrug, watching as Pietro zips around the treadmills to corner her near the mirrors. “Always getting better. I can see her confidence building up after every one of your training sessions with her, you know. Even if she’s going around calling you a hardass after.”

His brows rise, “Oh really?”

“I’m sorry,” you grin. “I think Captain Hardass was the exact term she used.”

Shaking his head, his eyes not leaving your face, he calls her name from across the gym with an immediate authority that has both teens freezing.

“I wish you luck,” you murmur to the supersoldier as Pietro suddenly appears at your side.

Wanda slinks over to the training mats on the opposite side of the gym as Steve begins detailing their exact workout for the morning.

“Cronus, she wasn’t kidding,” you groan as the boy begins heading toward the doors. Unable to help turning up your nose as you catch a whiff of his post-workout scent. “Go take a shower, kid.”

He laughs as you shove him in the direction of the locker rooms. With a shake of your head, you head out of the gym - entrusting Wanda’s training in Steve’s capable hands - as you head up to the main floor.

Life at the Compound had been a completely new adjustment period for you.

While you had been comfortable living with the twins, Steve, and Vision at your house in Vermont, it had been your house. This was a total changeup to your usual routine. In the residence section, you only had the team to worry about. If you ever moved outside of it, however, into the research building, the labs, or the hangar, suddenly there was a vast array of employees, scientists, and agents to deal with.

So, slightly similar to Wanda, you kept to your section of the Compound for the first few weeks. But, eventually, you found yourselves in the main living space on the first level of the residence building.

Tony had made the Compound feel similar to the Tower in the sense that everyone had their own space, but also common areas as well like the kitchen and lounge. Even down in Tony’s private lab, he had an offshoot room with a kitchen and living space.

It had been one of those nights, one of those too-frequent sleepless nights with Wanda and Pietro, that you found yourselves in various states of exhaustion on the plush couches in the lounge. Wanda had been curled up next to Steve, eyes slowly blinking as she tried to focus on Cher Horowitz. While you took up the armchair for yourself and Pietro made a makeshift bed on the floor.

Natasha had wandered in from Cronus knowswhere in a knee-length black cocktail dress. And she only blinked once, not a single question on her lips, as she silently joined the four of you for the remainder of the movie.

And as you had FRIDAY dim the lights once the show came to an end, the two teens fully asleep on the couch and floor, respectively, she had pulled Steve away for a conversation that was not meant for your ears.

But after that, one by one, on those particular nights, at least one other member of the team would happen to wander in on you and join in. Eventually, two would show up, and sometimes even the entire team would be assembled in the designated movie space. And at that point, it transitioned from late-night nightmare solutions to weekly movie nights and takeout.

When you wander into the lounge, tucking your hair over your shoulder, you find Clint and Sam locked into a taunting match on the white couch in front of the TV; a controller in each other their hands.

“Eat my shit, Barton,” he bites.

“Ooh. Taking the high road, Samuel?”

Wandering over to them, resting your arms on the back of the couch, you watch as Clint tosses a blue shell at Sam’s go-kart, laughing maniacally as he slips into first place.

“Ouch, tough blow,” you breathe out.

“Grab a controller,” Sam calls over his shoulder. “We can take him.”

With a laugh, you just rustle his shoulder and leave them to their game, “Think I’ll pass.”

In the kitchen, Natasha rests on the island counter with her phone in her hands - her gaze intense.

Snatching an apple from the fruit bowl, you roll around the counter to her side. Squeezing the fruit between your hands, you twist the center - successfully snapping it in half.

“What’s with the face?”

She hums in reply as you take a bite of the sweet fruit.

“It’s deadlocked again.”

Your brow rises, as you question around a mouthful of fruit, “Seriously?”

With another hum, she turns her screen to the left for you to see.

“No, don’t tell me Vis is the tie-breaker again.”

The redhead nods, a smirk turning up at the corner of her lips as you let out a long groan.

“But he doesn’t even eat it! How is that even fair?”

As she types out a text for the sentient lifeform to read, you shake your head. Cronus you hoped he picked Indian.

The weekly dinner and a movie night had been fraught at first - too many people with too many varying opinions on what should be ordered and worst of all, what movie should be watched. This led to the implementation of a weekly poll for both cuisine and film genre.

So far, Ghostbusters was in the lead with a solid 6/8 vote (Sam and Steve had teamed up in hopes of Remember the Titans). But, again, the team had been fully split between restaurants. Vinny’s Pizzeria was fully locked with Royal Palace, and while you were all for a good pizza and pasta combo, you had been craving the tandoori chicken and biryani for over a month now.

“Excuse me, Miss Athena; Goddess of Wisdom, Warfare, Handicraft, Amazing but Impractical Stunts, and - ”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” you interrupt with a hand to your forehead. Tony and his damn nicknames.

Natasha snorts, barely looking up from her phone.

“Sir has requested your presence in the lab.”

Biting into the second half of the apple you respond around a slice, “Tell him I’m on the way.”

Waving in the assassin’s direction, you take the left hallway down to the main atrium. From here, you can see the SHIELD agents doing their morning training regime out on the lawn.

Down two sets of stairs and a few left turns later, you’re in the immaculate white lab that Tony had been calling home for the past year. He’s hunched over a piece of electrical board with a screwdriver between his lips and goggles on his face.

“What’d you need me for, Stark?” you question as you move into the room - careful to keep a solid five feet between you and his project. You had learned your lesson from the last time.

He grunts in return. You watch as sparks briefly fly up from the wiring before he leans back on his rolling stool. Dropping the tool into his right palm, he lifts his goggles up onto his forehead and stares at you.

“We need to get Vision onboard before Cap wins them over with pizza again.”

With a laugh, you clap Tony’s hand in yours, “A matter of great importance, I see.”

“You don’t mess around with takeout Fridays, 007. It’s a sacred rite.”

“Mmm, pass the garlic naan?”

Steve chuckles low in his throat as he leans over to nab the basket from the coffee table, offering it over to you as you nab another piece of warm bread for yourself. His left arm drapes over your shoulders when he settles back into the couch cushions.

“Everything was fine with our system until the power grid was shut off by dickless, here.”

“They caused an explosion!”

“Is this true?”

“Yes, it’s true. This man has no dick.”

Pietro snorts next to your legs on the floor while Tony giggles behind his hand on the chaise lounge.

“God, I love this movie,” Clint grins between bites of curry.

“You would,” Natasha intones beside him, sipping on her pink-colored drink.

Steve’s fingers tighten briefly on your left shoulder, making you turn to look up at him. His face is a swath of warmth and contentment.

Ever since you moved to the Compound, it’s like another version of Steve was available to you every day. You were so used to seeing the Captain out on the field, on missions. But now, nearly every beginning and ending of your day had Steve Rogers in it in some shape or form.

The team had become a family, in all honesty, these past few months.

Moments like this - the simple domestic moments that were a rarity in the realm of superheroes and villains - were such a blessing. To be next to your best friend - to share a meal and watch an old movie together, that’s where the joy came from.

He smiles back at you before turning to speak to Wanda in a hushed voice. You smirk as he tries to explain a portion of the dialogue that was alluding her. To her right, sits Vision in a chair pulled from the table, he’s also listening intently as Steve explains the scene and why it’s considered amusing.

By the time he’s answered all of Vision’s questions - which is impressive, considering the fact that he’s never seen the movie before either - they’ve already encountered Gozer, and the Stay Puft monster is just coming onto the screen.

“Well, there’s something you don’t see every day.”

“I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved from my childhood. Something that could never ever possibly destroy us. Mr. Stay Puft.”

“Nice thinking, Ray.”

“Okay!” Tony calls out, “Tell me the truth, are you in this one?”

You can’t help but snort as several heads turn to look at you.

It had been quite the revelation, three months back, for them to learn that you had been an accidental extra in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

“I was in Chicago when they filmed the parade scene! We didn’t know it was a production in progress. We heard music and thought, oh, let’s go check that out.”

Tony had rewound the scene to find your face in the crowd. Your colleague from the Art Institute had been beside you for the dance number - you were barely in the picture, but it had been enough to turn Tony’s new obsession into a full-blown problem.

“I’m not in every movie that has ever existed, Tony.”

You had been in exactly two movies the team had watched. Two. You had watched over fifty together now. That was barely even a percentage, surely.

But he bats his eyelashes at you and you can’t help but sigh.

“Sorry, Venkman. I’m terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.”

The camera pans down to the screaming people on the street.

With a dull voice, you point at the screen, “Right there, by the cab.”

“You’re shitting me! Who has the remote? Pause it! Pause it! No, go back - ”

He’s up from his seat, standing directly in front of the TV to try and find your figure in the crowd. His finger runs across each face, then once more before he turns back to you with a glower.

The laughter bubbling out from your lips can’t be contained once you catch the broken look on his face.

“I told you, I’m not in every movie!”

“Ooh, that’s cold,” Sam grins, raising his drink toward you.

Tony stalks over to you, “That hurts, Athena. I’m hurt. Do you see the hurt on my face?”

You can feel the rumble of Steve’s silent chuckles as he tucks you in closer, trying to hide his face from Tony.

“I’m not in Ghostbusters, I’m sorry I lied.”

“Thank you,” he holds up his hands in annoyance.

As he walks back over to his chair to resume the movie, however, you add, “I think I might be in the sequel, though.”

“That’s it! Double movie feature!” he points at you accusingly, followed by a playful wink to let you know that he’s actually not that bothered by it.

When the movie resumes and the Ghostbusters attempt to blast the Stay Puft man to marshmallowy fluff, Steve leans over to you - his breath is warm against your cheek.

“Are you really in the sequel?”

You look up, only to find him but a breath away from your face.

“Maybe? I actually can’t remember if it was that or Look Who’s Talking. I know I was in the city when one of them was filming, and I think I was on the corner or something when they were rolling?”

His hand clutches at your shoulder, bringing you in closer.

“You’re awful,” he murmurs with a wave of warm breath along the shell of your ear.

You smirk, glancing from him, to the TV, and back again.

Settling back into his hold, you grin, “You like it.”

The knock on his office door has Steve looking up from the e-mail he had been religiously re-reading from Sharon. It was a rarity that he was ever disturbed by anyone outside of FRIDAY when he was locked away in here.

Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise him too much, however, to see Tony’s face behind the glass.

“Rogers,” he states as he pushes his way inside, pacing as he goes, glancing around at the various items on the walls.

Steve watches him for a moment before he settles his arms across his chest, rocking back slightly in his chair, as he asks, “Was there something you wanted, Tony?”

“Uhm, yeah,” the other man settles down on the couch across from him, balancing one leg over the opposite knee. “God, this feels very principal calling the parents here, but… the gist is, your ward is causing me a headache, Rogers. Or, more accurately, she’s causing Pep’s team a headache which means I get the migraine.”

He’s immediately on alert, leaning forward as he addresses the billionaire, “What’s going on?”

“Yikes, I’d hate to be your kid. So, basically…” he drones, getting off of the couch to begin pacing once again. “Someone has made themselves an unofficially official handful of socials.”

With Steve’s blank look, Tony rolls his eyes.

“Social media, Rogers. Christ help us all. She’s got the TrueView, she’s got the SnapTap. Basically, anything the kids are down with, she’s got. And, you know we kind of got that separation of kicking-ass life and personal life thing going on for us and… well, Wanda’s blurring the lines a bit. And she’s gaining attention with her rare posting habits.”

There’s suddenly a phone in his face, requiring Steve to look and scroll through a small trove of pictures. Nothing too incriminating, nothing too revealing. There’s one of her in the kitchen, clearly taken by someone else - Pietro, if he had to hazard a guess. Another of a sunset on the outskirts of the Compound. A pizza box with a shot of a movie playing in the background. He thinks he can see Clint’s boot in the corner of the photo.

“This seems like… I don’t know, typical teenager stuff, right?” he questions as he hands the phone over.

“It would be,” Tony clips. “If she wasn’t currently one of only two known mutant refugees in the country. You get that after… Ultron, the press hasn’t been the kindest? Well, we get her posting online and suddenly we’re looking at a PR nightmare. I know that isn’t really your realm, Cap. Not mine either, if I’m honest - ”

Tony grins as he sits on the edge of Steve’s desk.

“I leave that to Pepper and the company’s social media team. And while she’s fine with the official Stark Industry pages, regular Avenger accounts are another thing. They need regulation, approval of posts and what can be said and what can be shown or not shown and… a lot of shit, honestly.”

He finds his arms crossed once again as he looks up at the billionaire with wariness in his eyes.

“What is it you want me to do exactly?”

“Take her phone, send her to her room? Whatever it is pseudo parents do.”

He groans, averting his eyes, “I’m not their father, Tony. I’m about the farthest thing from it, actually.”

Tony scoffs, “Right. Is that what we’re calling Mr. Sensitive cuddle buddy now? Were you or were you not just spotted making Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes this morning for a certain teenage witch? Was it the other person who frequently dones star-spangled tights?”

“Enough,” he bites, challenging Tony to say anything further with his heated gaze alone.

Everyone skirted this topic quite brilliantly. But, like with many things, Tony had the incredible inability to keep his mouth shut.

To be clear, Steve did not view himself as a parent to anyone. But… he knew how attached the teens had become to both you and him over the past year. You were the designated safe people in their lives. And while Wanda let Natasha do her nails, and Pietro frequently joined Sam in his morning workouts, there was a familiarity there between the four of you. That couldn’t be denied by anyone.

So, sure. Maybe Steve was more protective of that relationship. He had every right to be.

They had been traumatized for the better part of their short lives. They needed stability and safety. He had watched as you opened your home to them without question. And Steve rarely strayed far from your side in those endeavors. So, yes, despite the occasional teasing behind his back - though it had died down in recent months - he knew he was basically a pseudo-guardian for both Wanda and Pietro.

Though no legal document ever had his name down as such, nor would it likely ever, he was as good as. Maybe not a father, but a mentor. A person they could rely on.

Tony holds his hands up in a sign of a truce.

“Got it, don’t question the bond. All I’m asking is for you to go and… get her to either take the accounts down or set them to private,” he stands up, straightening his tie as he heads toward the door. He stops, looking back at Steve for a second, “Kids will be kids, right?”

With the prevailing silence now returned to the office, the supersoldier drums his knuckles on the desk for a moment before he closes the laptop and heads down to the lower south hallway.

He tries to come up with the right words as he journeys down to their section of the Compound; the designated four rooms that they occupied along the curved corridor. Wanda’s is the first on the right, her room faces the interior section of the building. The door is ajar and he can hear the sound of sharp pop music coming from inside before he even pushes the door open further.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watches the girl lying across her bed with her face just a few inches away from her laptop. Her feet bounce in time to the music. The video, some kind of late show from the looks of it, shows a man in a maroon-colored suit lipsyncing to a song, much to the audience’s amusement.

“Get much closer and you’ll mess up your vision.”

She balks, pausing the video as she turns to look back at him.

“Could you get any older?” she questions in her slightly accented voice.

Yeah, even he admits that was pretty on brand for the ninety-year-old he was purported to really be.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Steve drags his fists into his pockets and moves to rest on the edge of the bed. Wanda sits up, knees to her chest as she looks over at him with a wary eye.

“Relax,” he smiles. “I just wanted to - ”

“Vision!”

He turns to look at the man who has fazed through the adjoining wall - floating just an inch above the carpeted floor.

“You called, Captain?”

“What… no, I… Sorry, no. I didn’t mean to call you down here,” Steve sighs.

The other man gives him a nod, a curious look in his eye, as his gaze then falls on Wanda. He tilts his head.

“Is this about the social media issue?”

“Vision.”

“There’s a problem with me?”

Oh my god, please just allow him to get out of this in one piece. He was not made for these kinds of conditions.

“Thank you, Vision,” Steve states with more bite than he initially intended to use.

The sentient being seems to understand as he drops to the floor and proceeds to walk out of the room, thankfully closing the door behind him.

He looks back toward Wanda, “So… I was told you have socials?”

She scoots back, grabbing her phone from the bed and drawing it close to her chest, “Yes…?”

“There are… some concerns over it. Ideally… Tony would like to see you either delete them or - ” he holds up a hand, seeing the immediate rebuke she has prepared, “or, set them to private. Apparently, there’s a lot more to it when you’re a public figure.”

She looks down, picking at her nailbeds - the black polish chipping in the process.

“I didn’t ask to be a public figure.”

With a gentle smile, he says, “I know.”

“Why shouldn’t I get to have them? I have, what, maybe ten pictures and a few posts on there? Nothing incriminating! Nothing that could… I don’t know, jeopardize this, us.”

“I… it came from Stark Industries’ PR department. Pepper is all over that and… well, I’m not completely versed in this area. But, they think it would be safer if the profiles were privatized for now. Maybe in the future, I think, they were considering having official accounts. So… next year, when you’re eighteen?”

“Are you serious?” she sets him with a dead look in her dark eyes.

He lets her simmer for a moment more. His silence leads to her groan, followed by the furious typing of her thumbs on her screen.

“You are incredibly uncool now,” she grits, her eyes briefly meeting his.

“Uncool and a hardass. Wow, really racking up the accolades, aren’t I?”

Her lips curve into a smile, unable to help herself from the looks of it, as she tosses her phone up toward her pillows.

“There. The world has no idea I exist… online, anyway.”

He pats her knee before hopping up from the bed, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” she mutters, unpausing her video once more. The sound of pop music fills the room. “Don’t say I never do anything for you, Captain.”

Smiling to himself, Steve leaves her to her videos.

Leaning back in his chair, he chuckles as Sam describes the details of his very outlandish sparring session with Nat.

“No, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m wrong. Damn near, so… I got her down, she’s down. And then bam! Up and over my back, choking me out with her thighs. I’m just saying… it’s witchy. Witchy shit.”

Nat smirks into her glass, “Not witchcraft, Sam. Just ingrained training regimens.”

“Witchcraft,” he mouths in Steve’s direction.

A handful of potato chips are chucked in Sam’s direction, leading to a burst of anger followed by several bouts of laughter from around the table. Steve catches your eye from the seat beside Natasha, your smile is radiant as you playfully toss a wadded-up napkin at Sam.

“Hey. Hey!” His eyes fall on Tony, who’s seated on the chair near the TV. “Shhhh!”

Steve’s gaze moves from the billionaire to the program he has on - ACNN. One by one, the rest of the table’s occupants turn to look at the TV while Stark increases the volume for them all to hear.

“We have our political reporter, Marc Burns who has been listening in on all of this tonight. Marc, while we wait for our analyst to come on, what would you say is your biggest takeaway from the announcement today?”

“I think today we truly heard the emotion behind some of the prevailing arguments that have been rattling the nation. Particularly from Congressman Ulborne and what you’re hearing from the lawmakers is that now is the time, given the protests that have been happening around the country and the world, really, Margaret. Public sentiment against the Avengers has risen to an all-time high.

“And you heard of the challenges, but also the opportunities in going forward with this legislation. While the GOP is eased by their majority in the House, they also have a Democratic Senate to try to surpass.”

Easing his arms onto the table, Steve watches on as a news conference is shown with a man in a red tie speaking, quite passionately, at the cameras. His voice is an enigma as the reporter continues with his remarks.

“These are a set of bills looking to address accountability and responsibility in due part to both the Avengers and the recently rebuilt SHIELD program. While some lawmakers might see this as a challenge, many members of the House are viewing this as an appropriate response to the outcry from the public at large.”

While the man continues, the screen changes to a bullet-point list.

THE SUPERHUMAN REGISTRATION ACT 2016

457 pages

Improve transparency by creating a public registration form

Place restrictions on superpowered individuals/teams from entering allied nations and territories

Enforces criteria and requirements of superhumans to be able to fully utilize their powers under the direction of the US government

“However, you’re already seeing President Ellis and Democrats trying to seize on that topic coming into this next election cycle. And while the current Democratic nominee, Michael Ruebens has declared the bill a gross overstep of government overreach today on TrueView, members of his party are not quite in agreeance with the current presidential candidate.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he hears Clint mutter.

“The current Republican candidate went on to TrueView this afternoon and offered his praises of his party members. Saying: fantastic creation of Ulborne and Giavanno, seeking to hold known terrorist Tony Stark accountable for his actions. It’s about time someone held these so-called heroes to a standard.”

“God, he’s a gem,” Nat tuts with barely concealed malice in her voice. Steve nods in agreement.

He can see your knuckles gripping the table’s edge tighter and tighter as the segment continues on.

“I think we can all agree that Republican sentiment amongst this proposed legislation is strong, Marc. But, it should be noted that Senator Young, from California, was seen at an anti-superhuman protest this past weekend. One of the few Democratic members of the Senate to take such a stand.”

“Well, I think that really speaks to the pulse of the nation right now in the aftermath of Sokovia, and New York, and Africa, you know? The people want to know if these individuals have our best interests at heart and if they are the best people for the job.”

“Okay, well, after this break, we’re going to go ahead and speak to Senator William Sharpe to hear what the Democrats in Congress are truly thinking about this legislation. And at eleven, we’ll be back here with Kennedy Jones to discuss the latest Roxxon leak off the coast. We’ll be right back with more, at America’s Central News Network, ACNN.”

Tony flicks the mute button and turns back to look at the table.

“What the fuck was that?” Clint questions, pointing at the TV. “How long have they been holding that in their pocket?”

“Probably a lot longer than they want us to think,” you reply with a trace of bitterness in your words.

“I mean, that’s gotta go against some kind of law or some shit, right? We’re a private group, individual rights and all that.”

Steve looks at the faces of his team, from Clint’s pure incredulousness to Natasha’s silent rage. From Sam’s quiet disappointment to your… the table creaks under your grasp.

He reaches his hand out, covering your fingers. Your blazing eyes meet his gentle blues from across the table. An exchange of conjoined thoughts happens in the blink of an eye before Steve retracts his hand and you release the table from your grip.

The supersoldier focuses on the one person likely to have the answers.

“Tony?”

Dragging a hand across his face, the billionaire puckers his lips and stares up at the ceiling before any words leave his mouth.

“So… the gist of it is, public discourse is still in question. And before an election cycle where their stronghold on the House could be tossed in a different direction, we have Republican do-gooders trying to shove as much legislation down the hole as they can.”

Taking a breath, he sits up, resting his hands on his knees as he levels his gaze with Steve.

“Fact is, you got some Congressmen trying to work a piece of questionable legislation down into the Senate. If, by some miracle you get a few Dems to jump party lines and vote in favor of it, then yeah. It’ll hit the House and get moved along. But, it hits Ellis’ desk, and… we have a connection. You know… saving his life and all.”

“So, it’s dead on arrival?” Sam asks; a hint of hope in his voice.

“Uh, yeah. Basically. And if by some miracle the Senate can find it in their hearts to agree on something for a change - ”

Nat chuckles into her drink.

“- and it goes to Ellis, then yeah. I’ll go and wine and dine the guy and get him to veto the thing.”

Satisfied with that answer, the mood of the room seems to shift back to its former self. But there’s a look on your face that brings Steve pause.

He waits until you’re both making your way down to the south hall to bring it up.

Walking side-by-side, your head is downturned, your thoughts almost audible to even the supersoldier.

“Talk to me.”

Your gaze lifts, meeting his face with a look of apprehension.

“What is it?” he questions in a softened tone.

You’ve stopped now, just a hall away from your final destination. Clear of any listening ears outside of FRIDAY’s constant vigilance.

“It’s not going to be the last, you know?”

With his perplexed look, you move to explain.

“After Sokovia, the public hasn’t fully turned back in our favor. With enough outcry and protests, I can guarantee more legislation like this will be coming through. Maybe even harsher ones.”

“You think we’ll be in trouble?” he questions with a slight lift to his brow.

With a pause, you cross your arms, “Not necessarily. I mean, Tony faced down Congress before when they were after the suit. He has an army of lawyers I don’t think any legal body would want to touch at his disposal. It’s just… I don’t know.”

Sensing your discomfort, Steve reaches over and pulls you into his arms.

He can feel the immediate sigh of relief that you exhale when his grip tightens ever so much.

“I don’t want anything to touch the team,” you admit against the fabric of his shirt.

Nodding in understanding, he tugs you even closer.

“I know. Neither do I.”

Glancing down the hall - at the double doors that lead to their rooms, to Pietro and Wanda’s rooms - Steve feels an immediate flash of protectiveness wash over him as he holds you close.

The thought that anyone, or any body of force, would try to disrupt their lives or the lives of the ones he cares about, is enough to keep him on edge.

But with you in his arms, he tries to dispel the thought.

Tony said he could handle it if worse came to worse. And Steve just had to believe that that sort of miracle could occur.

Pulling back slightly, just so you can tip your face up to look him in the eyes, Steve tucks a strand of your hair over your shoulder.

“You worry too much.”

With a warm laugh, you say, “I think I worry the right amount, considering the hecticness of our lives, Steve.”

Giving a nod, he relents with a fair point before you both head off in the direction of your rooms.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fan fic #series: shameless wonder #my fic

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militarymenrbomb · 11 months ago

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U.S. Army Warrior Fitness Team Member

Capt. Brian Harris

Capt. Brian Harris, was born in Edmond, Oklahoma and graduated from Edmond North High School in 2009. He was a member of the high school’s baseball and wrestling teams throughout high school. He enlisted in the Oklahoma Army National Guard in August of 2009 as a firefinder radar operator (13R) in field artillery. While serving in the Guard from 2009 to 2013, Harris attended the University of Oklahoma and actively participated in the Army ROTC program. During this time, he was introduced to functional fitness and began competing at a high level at various competitions around the country. In 2013, Harris commissioned into the Regular Army as a Medical Service Corps officer and that year was selected as one of twenty two medical service officers to attend flight training and be trained as an aeromedical evacuation officer (67J) / UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter pilot.

Harris’ assignment history includes Fort Rucker, Alabama where he attended Army flight school followed by Fort Carson, Colorado as a section leader, platoon leader and staff operations officer for the 2nd General Support Aviation Battalion, 4th Combat Aviation Brigade. During his time with 4th CAB, Harris participated in several full-scale training exercises and served one nine-month deployment to Afghanistan in support of Operation’s Freedom Sentinel and Resolute Support providing aeromedical evacuation services across RC-East and RC-North. In 2016, he was named the 4th Infantry Division’s “Junior Officer of the Year” for his efforts both in combat and garrison. After his time in Colorado, Harris returned to Fort Rucker to serve as the operations officer for their Air Ambulance Detachment (110th Aviation Brigade) known as “Flatiron” providing 24/7 crash rescue support to the Aviation Center of Excellence, as well as, routine support to 6th Ranger Training Battalion at Eglin Air Force Base and support to the local civilian population in accordance with the Wiregrass Letter of Agreement.

Harris is a CrossFit Level 2 certified trainer and master fitness trainer (phase 1) and has accumulated more than 700 hours of one-on-one and group coaching time teaching functional fitness methodologies to servicemembers and civilians enabling them to reach their fitness and lifestyle goals. He has competed at the local, regional and national level in functional fitness competitions. Under the old CrossFit season format, Harris was a 2 time regional qualifier and recently represented the United States of America as a member of the national team at the International Federation of Functional Fitness World Championships in Malmo, Sweden (2018).

His awards and decorations include the Air Medal with “C” device, Air Medal, Army Commendation Medal with 2 bronze oak leaf clusters, Army Achievement Medal with 3 bronze oak leaf clusters, Meritorious Unit Citation (2-4 GSAB, 4CAB), National Defense Service Medal, Afghanistan Campaign Medal, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, Army Service Ribbon, Overseas Service Ribbon, NATO Medal, Combat Action Badge, Basic Army Aviator’s Badge, Parachute Badge, and the Air Assault qualification badge.

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contactosoneteacheronescientist · 2 years ago

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#teaching learning process #holistic education programs #Pedagogy Expert in India #quality education in India #education quality foundation of India #Integrated learning in education #Competency-Based Learning #Master Trainer program #success #city #literature #book blog #books #otos #shop #oneteacheronescientist

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anderswelten · 5 months ago

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Suspicious offerings

You may remember that I said in one of my past blog posts how important it is to inform yourself about methods for hacking etc. - obviously not, because I want to teach you how to cheat, but knowledge will always be the key and your trump card to prevent yourself from scammers.

Today, I stumpled over a suspicious offering. From time to time I check classifieds, because sometimes you can be lucky and dig out a little treasure. However, this time I found an offering of a used Pokemon Diamond card. In the description it was highlighted that a rare Pokemon is on the card, an Arceus which was only distributed in Japan and it was not „traded via a module“. To proof that the mentioned Arceus is on the card, some photos were shown. I‘m attaching them for you. Please take a minute and look for hints, why this Arceus might be suspicious:

Ok, you may have already an impression what is going on here. Let me summarise everything what seems wrong here:

Arceus was redeemed/received in January 2021. Pokemon Diamond is a Generation 4 game. All distributions took place around 2010 - to be fair, the redemption date is the date of the DS system, therefore 2021 is not completely impossible, but at least very strange and let‘s say „uncommon“

Every event Pokémon is a fateful encounter which is „Schicksalshafte Begegnung“ in German. This phrase is completely missing.

This Arceus was caught in a Master Ball - event Pokemon are usually (not all!) carried in a Cherish Ball

This Arceus is level 80, but all Arceus distributed in Generation 4 were level 100.

The OT and TID seem to be custom, I‘m pretty sure that this is the OT and the TID of the trainer himself - or rather the trainer who caught it.

There was only one Arceus distributed in Japan - the Cinema Arceus - and its data are different from this one (OT, TID, level, Poke Ball, …)

Now, we can guess what it is or where it was obtained. Actually, I do believe that this Arceus itself was not transfered with the help of any kind of module. And I‘m aware of two possibilities: it is either an Azure Flute Arceus or an Arceus obtained over the Void glitch - which is basically the Azure Flute Arceus as well. That this Arceus is really an Azure Flute Arceus can be confirmed by the find spot: „Halle d. Beginns“ which is „Hall of Origin“ in English.

You may have already heard about the Azure Flute Arceus - it is the Arceus from Pokemon Brilliant Diamand & Shining Perl (BDSP) which all shiny hunters are after it, because shiny Arceus became accessible. And you also know that BDSP are the remakes of Pokemon Diamond & Perl, so it seems logical that the Azure Flute was also accessible in the original games, right? Unfortunately not.

The Azure Flute was meant to be distributed through an event in Japan, but it never happened. That the Azure Flute item was programmed into the game, it was already known, but after several years it was finally confirmed by Junichi Masuda that they have decided to not distribute the Azure Flute. So, literally, any Azure Flute Arceus from Generation 4 is somehow hacked, because the Wonder Card and the item have to be injected in your game, otherwise the in-game event would not be triggered. But even if no external module was used to inject the necessary things, a glitch has to be used. And just for those who are curious: you will not be able to port up this Arceus to a higher generation. Pokemon Bank will not accept it at the latest.

Here is the point what bothers me the most in this context:

The guy who offers this Pokemon Diamond card with a hacked Pokemon is advertising that it is a rare Pokemon.

Additionally, he is rising the price of this card, because of its „more value“ due to the „rare Pokemon“

If you are not that deep into the topics of event Pokemon, you may not have noticed it

It is the same like last time: it is absolutely fine if you do hacks and glitches just for yourself, but it is an absolute No-Go if you are trying to trade or sell it without telling its correct origin - whether consciously or unconsciously does not matter.

I‘m currently thinking about reporting this offer, but I have just little hopes, because this is such a niche - and most people care more about if the game itself is real of fake.

I can only recommend: keep continue to inform yourself and be suspicious every time and everywhere. And sadly, this was an easy case…

#event pokemon #Gen 4 #arceus #fake #azure flute #anderswelten #pokeblogging #pokeblr #pokemon

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mothnem · 1 year ago

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Okay! This is my backstory for Spy no matter what AU he is in.

He was an orphan. Lost both of his parents as a baby. And when he was six years old, he was adopted... into a human rights violation. He, along with over two dozen other orphans, were to be trained to be perfect spies. To never break no matter what. So for their welcome home ceremony, they had their fingerprints burned off. And it only gets worse from there. Any type of torture you can think of, physical, mental.... sexual, these children went through until it no longer bothered them. They know how much pain they will be in and know it can't get worse. They had been left out in blizzards after being sprayed down with water just so they would learn to survive it to get the intelligence back to their Masters. Spy had dragged 12 and 27 back to the exfil zone only for them to not make it. They had been 12 years old. The agency, planned to sell the spies to the highest bidder, but something happened. Someone caught them. The Spies were unleashed on the world with no orders. So they found their own. But slowly, bit by bit, they died. Until only our Spy is left. And he doesn't even know his real name. He had been given a number, 22. He was the 22nd child brought in to the program.

Spy left Scout's Ma because he had an accident with baby Scout that freaked him out. He realized he was thinking about how Scout DIDN'T need picked up right then because you can go for a long time on discomfort. He did pick up Scout, but when Ma got home he went for a walk and smoke.... that's when he saw one of the Trainers. She was talking on the phone, and from the onesided conversation he could hear, they were going to start the Program back up. And while he is the last one left, he's not the only one that had children. And they are planning to use those children. Spy ends up leaving to protect Scout.

(Also Scout got a Gift. Spy once went undercover as an exchange student. He had liked the name "Jeremy.")

But some funny can happen. Heavy remarks winter is coming, and Spy agrees, saying his room has been "a little cold" recently and for like five seconds everyone is normal until they remember Spy had been out in a blizzard soaked in water before and that's his definition of cold now. Suddenly Spy has several armloads of blankets dropped on him and Heavy's winter coat and Scout comes running in screaming he has the heater and now Spy is very warm boy. And Engineer is making hot coco and kicking Medic to keep him from adding drugs to it that would make your blood be like antifreeze.

Also Scout is furious and he doesn't know who to be pissed off at. Spy? The Trainers? Who?

#tw: sa #tw: abuse #tw: torture #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 soldier #spy's backstory #i gave him the highest honor i have #trauma

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desertsportshipping · 9 days ago

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The Shadow Wes Master-post

After much rumination and insanity, at the request of some friends, I am proud to present my masterpiece: the essay on how Wes became a shadow human and how it effected him. Enjoy.

How it happened

Cipher was the most powerful group in Orre. They filled the power vacuum after the mass collapse of the Under Network, bringing a source of stability and being the only employment option in the region. The smaller gangs and syndicates who refused to work with Cipher were wiped out, and the only way to survive was to cooperate.

Team Snagem’s business model of stealing Pokemon to sell on the black market was… a lot harder to pull off now than it was during the days of pure anarchy. Originally, grunts stole Pokemon by pickpocketing the Pokeballs or breaking them and catching the Pokémon in a new one mid-battle. Both of these methods were highly risky. More commonly now, trainers were mugged at gunpoint and forced to hand over their Pokeballs, with the process of erasing the original trainer done later, back at headquarters (a significant portion of the time, this ends in the original trainer’s death).

Then, Cipher rolled up with this new invention, the Snag Machine. It takes the blood of a Team Snagem member (deposited into it beforehand), and replaces the fluid inside normal Pokeballs with that blood, turning them into Snag Balls. The blood is enough to override the bond a Pokemon had with their trainer, meaning that a Snag Ball can steal a Pokemon in battle without the hassle of breaking the original Pokeball or killing the trainer. The portable version of the Snag Machine does the same thing, except that instead of blood being deposited beforehand, it directly draws blood from the wearer’s veins.

Of course, Cipher wasn’t going to just hand over these Snag Machines. There was a price, and Team Snagem couldn’t pay it with money. Gonzap chose to sell his son.

The contract marked Snagger Leo as an asset of Cipher, currently being rented to Team Snagem. The portable Snag Machine was fitted to his arm, and surgeries were performed to make him more “suitable” to use it. Part of said procedures (and the month of torture that happened to prime him for it) was an injection to turn him into a shadow human.

This marked Wes as the second shadow human to be created by Cipher. The first was Nascour who willingly underwent the procedure (minus the torture). In fact, it was also Nascour who suggested shadowing their newest asset, and that Wes be branded as such.

For Nascour, becoming a shadow human was the best decision of his life, a way to enhance his aura powers and finally take control of Cipher. For Wes, becoming a shadow human has brought nothing but misery.

The metaphor <3

Before moving onto the effects, we must first talk about the metaphor of shadowing.

“A Shadow Pokémon is a Pokémon that has been made into a fighting machine by artificially shutting the door to its heart.”

Being a shadow means being disconnected to your heart, cut off from positive emotions and love (whether platonic, romantic or just zest for life). The way to purify a shadow is to give them happy memories, treat them with kindness and help them rediscover those positive emotions they’ve been cut off from. Once the shadow has enough memories of kindness and joy, the Relic Stone can finally reopen the door to the shadow’s heart.

The process of shadowing is a metaphor for trauma: Pokemon become more violent, the benefits that they gain are for causing harm, they stagnate as they’re held back by that trauma, with Hyper Mode being the culmination of giving into that rage and pain and lashing out. The shadow program as a whole is the cycle of abuse: some give in and continue to perpetuate it (Nascour) and some fight to break it (Wes). Being purified is the end of the journey of healing from that trauma, lifting the weight and allowing them to move forward.

Shadowing isn’t just trauma, it’s the embodiment of coping with that trauma. Becoming a shadow is to choose (in the moment) to succumb to the instinct to be a worse person, to let the anger and rage manifest in destructive behaviors (both to others and yourself). A person or Pokemon becomes shadowed when they accept it as the alternative to whatever is tormenting them. In every case but one, shadowing is the escape from the torture that happened in the Shadow Pokemon Lab.

How shadowing manifests depends a lot on the person or Pokemon’s personality and willingness to be a shadow. Nascour is a result of leaning into the shadow, using it to enhance his own abilities and inflict violence on whoever he pleases. Wes is the result of fighting the shadow, his entire body and mind going through immense pain due to the battle within.

For a while, Wes didn’t fight the shadow. He dutifully carried out Gonzap’s orders, his empathy cut off for anyone but Umbreon and Espeon. He really started fighting it when he met Rui; not only did her morals rub off on him, but the good memories and kindness she showed him tipped the balance and made him unstable. His body started killing itself after Wes unlocked his empathy for the Shadow Pokemon in his care.

The reason Wes was never purified during the course of Colosseum or its post game is because he was not giving himself the same love that he gave the Pokemon in his care. He put his Pokemon’s journey of healing before his own, sacrificing his own health to ensure that they were purified. It was only when he arrived in Galar, where he had nothing else to do, that he started to lower the shadow gauge of his own heart. With Leon’s support and out of Orre, Wes could finally heal.

The effects

Wes is now a weapon of mass destruction. He has a higher pain tolerance, greater durability (which is why he could take so many hits from various shadow Pokemon), a reduced need to sleep and a reduced appetite. However, when he gets unbalanced, he starts to suffer the effects of his reckless lifestyle: anemia, chronic pain, pollution and tears in his lungs.

While Rui had her suspicions, she only got concrete proof of Wes being a shadow human once she found the corresponding Ein file at the Shadow Pokemon Lab. This is because Wes’s aura is normal unless he goes into Hyper Mode, where his aura twists into something monstrous and terrifying.

As far as psychological effects go, it’s hard to detangle what was a result of the shadow itself and what was a result of the sudden switch in how he was treated. He now sported the brand of the worthless, and Gonzap considered his son Snagger Leo dead (at the hands of Cipher naturally, he denied his own role in his son’s death) and treated Wes as a tool at Team Snagem’s disposal. As a result, Wes both dehumanizes himself (viewing himself the same way) and holds himself accountable for everything he did for Team Snagem and Cipher (he is the champion of mental gymnastics). He also suffered memory loss, with the memories before he was shadowed getting hazier until they were gone and he perfected the art of masking his emotions (at least as long as they aren’t strong enough to trigger Hyper Mode).

What was a direct result of the shadow process was the loss of empathy for anyone other than his two best friends and the raging need for violence. When working for Team Snagem, he directed that need for violence at the poor trainers he was robbing; after meeting Rui and following her, he directed it inwards and at himself. Due to that severance of empathy, Wes had handed over Pokemon to Cipher without remorse, knowing what would happen to them, and it’s only after some of Rui’s morals had sunk in that he started to feel guilt for the suffering he’d caused.

Wes eventually turns to more and more self-destructive behaviors (heavier drugs and riskier games and bloodier violence) to “atone” for what he did. He thinks atonement (purification) is only possible for someone like him through suffering or death.

The purification

Wes put off his own journey to heal, instead focusing his energy on taking down Cipher and purifying the Shadow Pokemon in his care. Rui had made some good progress on opening the door to Wes’s heart, but it wasn’t enough, especially when Wes appeared almost determined to shove it back shut with his self-destructive habits.

But Wes always felt he was making the right decision. Of course he put himself last, he was the only one who could purify them. He was the only one like them, equal to them.

He would never be purified as long as he stayed in Orre. But when Rui offered to take him with her to Unova, he turned her down. He was forced to leave when Cook provided him with a boat ticket and a bag of fake papers, and he met Leon in the wild areas of Galar.

Unlike Rui, who recognized that she couldn’t help Wes as she was and therefore decided to go on a training montage, Leon is insane. His aura abilities are also a lot stronger than Rui’s, so he could read and understand Wes a lot better. Finally, he had the advantage of environment: most of Wes’s worst habits were physically impossible or easy to corral now that he was an ocean away from Orre.

Leon’s unconditional insanity worship love is what finally opens the door to Wes’s heart. Reconnecting with his empathy, his love of Pokemon (even the wild Skwovets trying to steal his food), rediscovering platonic love for Rui and his mons and discovering romantic love, letting go of the toxic beliefs that had been eating him from the inside out. He even let Leon take him to see a real doctor and fix some of the problems with his health.

Of course, Wes is finally purified at the altar. When Leon and Wes kiss, the relic stone behind them glows, and the last of the shadows are banished from his heart.

Purification is lifting the weight off of Wes that he’d been dealing with. Hyper Mode is gone, and his body stops trying to implode. Some of the memories lost to the shadows return to him, and the constant need for violence disappears from his system.

He is finally free.

Further Reading

Post going deeper into Wes's brain.

Post exploring the dynamic of DesertSport specifically.

Post explaining more about the Snag Machine.

Post going into how Wes's past affected his relationship with Rui.

Post about Wes's relationship with the Galarian media.

Post about Orre's folk tales.

Post going deeper into the brand on Wes's face. [my other magnum opus]

#pokemon colosseum #trainer wes #wes pokemon #desertsportshipping #yeah its more minor than the overall theme of shadow wes but its important #also this is my new pinned post cause i'm damn proud of it #happy honda days to all who celebrate

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shingekinohyrulewrites · 6 months ago

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& They Were Roommates

Armin Arlert is in need of a roommate, and you just so happen to need a place to live. For some reason you cannot figure out, his best friend, Eren Jaeger, has a problem with you.

Read on AO3 here

SMUT AHEAD, MDNI, 18+ ONLY, CONTENT WARNINGS FOR :

Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex, Spitting, Creampie

Armin Arlert is an accomplished man.

After graduating as valedictorian in both high school and college, he decided to continue on with his higher education by going on to graduate school. With his Molecular Biology Bachelors Degree under his belt, he was moving on to get his Masters and, sometime in the future, his PhD. His alma mater, Eldia University, offered a great graduate program, and he decided to continue his education there.

He had been living in the same off-campus apartment since his freshman year. Since he excelled in high school, his tuition and living expenses were paid for, which meant he had his pick for where he wanted to live. Wanting to have the “real” college experience, he opted to choose a two bedroom apartment two miles from campus, and he took the bus to commute to class.

Annie Leonhart stumbled into his life during his second semester. They were both taking Chemistry, and they had been assigned as lab partners. Despite her stern demeanor, Armin managed to break through, and the two began dating halfway through the semester. Sophomore year she moved into his apartment, the extra bedroom being converted into a guest room. They graduated together, and she also decided to pursue a graduate degree like her boyfriend. Their first year was stressful, navigating much more difficult, specialized classes while balancing a job at the local pharmaceutical company.

Over the summer, Annie was presented with the opportunity to study in her family’s native country, Russia. Despite safety concerns, the top pharmaceutical company there had offered a chance for her to work there, gain experience, and attend classes at the local prestigious university.

It was a chance she couldn’t refuse.

However, this left Armin with a conundrum. Now that he was in graduate school, only his tuition was covered. Given that he was expected to have a job, his living expenses were now up to him. Since he had chosen a rather swanky apartment, he knew he would need some help with paying for the rent. He put out an ad in the university’s newspaper, hoping that a fellow student would be willing to reside with him.

The week before Annie was set to leave, Armin’s best friend, Eren Jaeger, heard about his situation and stopped by. The two had been best friends since they were kids, and he wanted to see if he could help out somehow.

“Hey, why don’t you let me move in?”

Armin’s nose had scrunched up, which immediately annoyed Eren.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked, frowning deeply.

“No offense, Eren, but I need someone who is just as studious as me. I can’t afford any distractions right now.”

Eren opened his mouth to argue, but Armin held up a hand to silence him.

“Look, you’ve been done with school. You work as a personal trainer. You don’t have a set schedule, so you would be coming and going at unpredictable times. I need consistency.”

For some reason, Eren decided to take this personally.

He currently lived at home with his parents and half-brother, Zeke. Although he made good money as a personal trainer, it was hard to find an affordable place that he could afford by himself. He had been hoping that this would be a chance to finally move out, and the thought of living with his best friend made him excited.

“Why don’t you help me vet roommate options? I know it’s not moving in, but at least you have an idea of who you would see when you come hang out.”

For the next week, Armin arranged “interviews” when the both of them were free. They interviewed both undergraduate and graduate students, with Armin asking the questions while Eren studied them quietly. Unbeknownst to the blond, Eren was fuming. He hated every single option, finding stupid reasons for Armin to reject them. He had decided that, regardless of who Armin decided to go with, he would hate whoever his roommate ended up being.

Two days before Annie’s flight, Armin was freaking out. He still hadn’t found a suitable roommate, and Eren had been no help. The responses to the ad were basically zero now, and Armin hadn’t heard from friends about anyone who may need a room.

Then you showed up.

A mutual friend of yours who had a few classes with Armin had casually mentioned he needed a roommate, and you had immediately jumped them for details. You were finishing up your Masters Thesis, jumping between meetings with your advisor and your job. However, your roommate had dropped out, the stress of graduate school causing a nervous breakdown, leaving you essentially homeless.

Your friend gave you his contact information, and the two of you arranged to meet the day before Annie’s flight. You were greeted by him, relieved that he seemed kind. He introduced his best friend, Eren, who regarded you sternly. The both of you toured the apartment, with Armin explaining the amenities and breaking down the bills. He asked about your schedule, and was pleased to see that it essentially aligned with his. You both conversed about your respective Masters programs, and he had a feeling the two of you would get along great.

“How soon can you move in?”

“I can move in tomorrow!” you excitedly said.

“Sold!”

Eren watched the exchange with a scowl, rolling his eyes as Armin went over the lease paperwork and how to get a copy of the keys. The next morning, you moved in, settling into the second bedroom before leaving for work. The two of you had decided to go out for dinner to better get to know each other. Armin had dropped off Annie that morning, which meant he had time for you that night.

You immediately admired Armin. It was evident he was a hard worker, and you listened intently as he talked about the difficulties of his program and his job. You asked about his study habits, and were pleased to hear they were similar to yours. The two of you had similar personalities and senses of humor, and a part of you predicted that you would be getting along very well.

It took one week to fall into a routine. Since your schedules were almost the same, you were up at the same time, sharing a quick dinner before running out the door. Twice a week, your lunch time aligned, so you met for lunch. You would usually get home before him, which allowed you time to relax a bit before you started dinner just as he was getting home. He would ask about your day as you ate before watching a bit of TV and retiring to bed.

Eren came over the week after. It was Friday, and Armin had suggested a movie night. You had happily agreed, hoping to get to know Eren better. Armin talked about him often, letting you know that they had been friends since they were kids and that he had always been super protective of the blond.

“I was usually a target for the neighborhood kids,” he had admitted sheepishly.

You had offered to pay for the pizza that evening, and you asked Eren what he wanted on his. He shrugged, saying pepperoni was fine. His aloof personality put you off a bit, but you figured you were still a stranger to him, so he was weary.

While you waited for the food, Armin and Eren caught up. You sat to the side, scrolling through your phone silently while you quietly observed Eren. It was hard not to notice how attractive he was - he looked like he could be a model. His long, brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, just like the first time you had met him. A few pieces had slipped out, framing his face. Thick, dark eyebrows sloped over a pair of expressive turquoise eyes, who often eyed you with suspicion. His nose was slender but rounded at the tip, above a pair of full lips. Your eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

The sound of someone knocking at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Armin sat in between you two, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Eren hadn’t said a single word to you beyond thanks for paying for the pizza. For some reason, it really bothered you.

Meanwhile, Eren was absolutely annoyed with you. Armin had been gushing about you over text, going on and on about how you were essentially a perfect roommate. The two of you got along great, and his studies weren’t interrupted. When he had invited him over, Eren was intent on saying “thanks, but no thanks.” But Armin had mentioned how it was so important for them to get along, and Eren couldn’t say no to that.

His eyes watched you from the side. Your eyes kept flicking between the plate on your lap and the screen. You were wearing a thin tee shirt and sweats, your hair messily braided. Armin had mentioned you had been busier than usual with work that week, which explained your tired appearance. You weren’t cute or whatever.

That movie night opened a door. Eren came and went as he pleased, stopping by to hang out with Armin. Sometimes you cooked an extra plate for him. Other times, him and Armin went out for dinner, leaving you alone. He still kept you at arm’s length, never greeting you past a nod. Armin tried to push him to open up, but you saw how hard Eren resisted.

“It really wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

It had been a month since you moved in. The two were currently sitting in a booth at the local diner, waiting for their burgers. Eren rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his drink.

“She’s really nice. I mean, she goes out of her way to include you at dinner and stuff.”

“Have you considered that she might be trying to break you and Annie up?”

Armin, bewildered, stared at Eren.

“What?”

“I mean, she’s pretty cozy with you.”

“You’re joking, right?”

The waitress brought their food then. Eren immediately began eating, keeping his eyes low as Armin continued to stare at him.

“She’s met Annie. I introduced her the first time I Facetimed her.”

Eren ignored him, keeping on with his meal.

“She’s given me advice on how to deal with a long-distance relationship. I don’t think anyone who wants to break up a relationship would do that.”

When he saw that Eren wasn’t going to respond, he sighed and picked up his burger. The rest of their meal was silent, with Armin dropping Eren off before returning home. Eren lay in bed, arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. What was it about you that bothered him so much?

You’re obviously trying to take Armin away from me.

He scowled, turning on his side. That had to be the reason. You knew how close the two of them were, and you wanted to pull Armin away. That had to be it. He saw how chummy the two of you were, and he figured you were just nice to him out of sympathy.

Whatever.

He rolled over to his other side, letting out a long sigh.

It had nothing to do with how hot he thought you were.

***

It was the first week of June, which meant the heat was starting to kick in.

The last week of classes was fast approaching, and you and Armin were thankful to have some reprieve before the Fall. Annie was set to return in mid-July, and you were excited to meet her. The couple had agreed to let you stay for the next school year, with all three of you set to graduate next June.

Armin’s week was chaotic, with back to back exams, as well as meetings with his thesis mentor. You, on the other hand, had it slightly easier, as you were taking one elective. Your final paper had been finished last week, as you had wanted to get an extra week to relax. Your boss had also been kind enough to give you Finals week off, which meant you had a week to do nothing.

Eren had been told about the end of the semester, and he realized he would have more time to spend with Armin. Normally, he would text him to give him a heads up, but he figured Armin would be home, so he stopped by. He whistled a tune as he walked up to your building, letting himself in with the gate code and climbing the stairs to your unit. Armin had given him a spare key for emergencies, so Eren let himself in.

The apartment was silent, sunlight streaming through the open windows. Normally, Armin would do his work at the dining room table, since it gave him the space he needed. Instead, it sat empty. Eren listened for any sounds coming from his room, but the entire place was silent.

“Armin?” he called, but no one responded.

He waited a minute, but figured that neither of you were home. Shrugging, he kicked off his shoes and left them by the door before laying down on the couch. He figured he could hang out while he waited for Armin to come home. The two of them could probably grab some dinner then.

Unbeknownst to him, you were home. You had slept in, going for a run before coming back and taking a shower. The heat, plus the exhaustion from working out, made you sleepy, and you decided to take a nap. It was still hot in your apartment, so you climbed into bed naked and fell asleep. When you woke up, you were feeling better but still feeling warm. You used the towel beside you to wipe some sweat before standing up and stretching.

Armin had texted you that he was working overtime, so not to worry about dinner for him. You had texted back you would order something for him, and he had sent you his order along with a smiling emoji. The apartment was yours, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to walk around naked and pour yourself a cold glass of iced tea.

The apartment was filled with sun, and you made a mental note to shut the blinds to try and cool the place down. You yawned, pausing to stretch again in the living room. Your joints popped, satisfaction flooding you at the sound.

“Holy shit.”

You jumped, head whipping around towards the voice. Eren was sitting on your couch, eyes wide as he took in your very naked figure. You could feel your cheeks burning, and looked around desperately to cover yourself.

“What are you doing here?” you squeaked.

He didn’t reply, still staring at you.

“EREN!”

He jumped, shaking his head before hesitantly turning his head away.

“I, uh, thought Armin would be home. He told me you’re almost done with school.”

“Why didn’t you text him?!”

He shrugged.

“Oh my god, I am going to kill you.”

“Look, you’re really distracting. Can you put some clothes on?”

“This is my home! I have the right to be naked if I want to!”

He didn’t respond, his eyes continuing to take in every single curve.

“Get out!”

Instead of listening to you, Eren stood up. He slowly strode over to you, and you backed up until you were pressed against the wall. The cool sensation had you relaxing slightly, the heat flaring through your body going down. One of Eren’s hands came to rest beside your head while the other came to rest gently on your waist.

“You have been such a fucking pain in my ass.”

You narrowed your eyes at his words and opened your mouth to argue with him but he shook his head, the hand on your waist coming up to cover your lips.

“Now, here you are, walking around naked as if to punish me.”

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.

“Were you just waiting for your chance to tease me like this?”

You shook your head as you narrowed your eyes further.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You hesitated, and he immediately took note of this.

“Oh, look at you, naughty girl.”

A quiet whine was muffled against his hand. He chuckled again, removing his hand and placing it carefully back on your waist.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You looked up at him, all the times he had been dismissive of you the past few months playing in your head. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your response.

Fuck it.

You stood on your toes, gripping the back of his neck to pull him towards you. His lips met yours messily, your lips pressing against his as he sighed, allowing your tongue to slip in. The hand beside your head slid down to your hips, squeezing the flesh there before he bent down and picked you up.

“I’m going to fuck you on this couch, and you’re going to think of it everytime you sit here.”

He laid you down on the couch before hastily removing his clothes. You admired the muscles on his body, eyes trailing down his abs and following his happy trail down to his erect cock. He stroked himself, smirking as he watched you study him.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up.”

He paused for a second before realization crossed his face.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom. Um, do you think Armin has any?”

“Eren,” you laughed. “It’s fine. I’m on birth control. Are you clean?”

He nodded, relief crossing his face. You opened your legs as he kneeled at the end of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he took in your naked body splayed out beneath him. He leaned down towards your core, close enough that you could feel his breath. You sucked in a breath as you waited to feel his mouth on you, but instead he spit on your core.

“Eren,” you gasped.

He shrugged.

“Gotta make sure my girl is ready.”

He slapped his cock against you before sliding it slowly along your slit. You moaned, wiggling your hips to try and get him to slip in. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he finally obliged you, pushing in at an agonizing pace. He was very well endowed, and you winced slightly at how thick he was. The stretch took some getting used to, but he went slow, murmuring praise until his hips were pressed against yours.

Your left leg came to wrap around his hip while the other hung off the couch. He pulled his head back to kiss you for a moment while you adjusted to him. After a moment, you lifted your hips, your silent signal that you were ready to take him.

His head came to settle in the crook of your neck, groaning as he pulled out. You felt how heavy he was as he dragged himself out until just the tip was in before pushing back in. One hand came to grab the back of his head, pulling at his hair while the other began to claw at his back. His pace started slow, repeating the slow drag and harsh push before he started to pick up the pace. The couch creaked noisily underneath you as he fucked you faster, your moans getting louder and filling the living room. He turned his head to kiss and lick your neck, biting down lightly in an effort to mark you.

“Mine,” he slurred out. “You’re mine now.”

You lifted the leg on his hip higher, allowing him to hit a different angle. Stars began to dance in your vision, and you tried to warn him through moans.

“You want to cum, yeah? You think you deserve to? Walking around naked to fucking rile me up?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammered out. “I-I didn’t mean t-to, Eren.”

He grabbed your cheeks harshly, turning your face so you could look at him. His face was flushed, pleasure evident on his features as he kept on fucking you.

“Look me in the eyes while you cum. I want to remember what it looks like.”

His words were the nail in the coffin, and you moaned out his name loudly as you came around him. He groaned with you, relishing the feeling of you tightening around him as he kept on until he came too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, his cum flooding you and leaving you warm.

The both of you were quietly panting, trying to recover from the intense sex you had just had. After a moment Eren pulled away, one hand pushing your hair out of your face. He studied you, a trace of intimacy in his eyes, before he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was so different from before, tender and full of affection. You didn’t want him to pull away, but he did so to pull out and sit back on the other side of the couch.

“Are you alright? Let me go get you some water.”

Your heart swelled as you watched him pad into the kitchen and return with a cold water bottle. He handed it to you, kissing you before he sat down again and took a long swig of his own bottle.

“Do you hate me?”

He sputtered on his water.

“No!” he exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Then why have you been so cold to me since I moved in with Armin?”

He looked away, cheeks flushing.

“I was, er . . . jealous of you. Armin and I have been best friends since we were kids, and I just didn’t want someone to take him away from me.”

A deep frown touched his brows as he stared at the coffee table.

“He’s my closest friend, and I care about him so much. I just . . . I didn’t want him taken away from me.”

You let out a quiet giggle as you scooted closer to him.

“You were just being protective of your friend. You’re like a golden retriever.”

“Hey! I am not!”

You laughed, ruffling his hair before snuggling into his side.

“Well, I guess we better come up with a story for Armin. But I think we should leave the couch out of it.”

It was Eren’s turn to laugh and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Great idea.”

#shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #eren jaeger #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #modern au #and they were roommates au

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alohastyles-x · 10 months ago

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𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠 - 1

A Dark Disney Retelling of Snow White and the Huntsman ft. The Winter Soldier as The Huntsman.

Dark Disney Retellings Masterlist | Synopsis

Warnings: This story will contain graphic descriptions of torture, violence and gore, possible smut scenes (undecided), cursing, brief mentions of reader being nearly emaciated as a result of torture.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Note: ahhhh it's here!! I can't wait to unfurl this project for you guys! <3 There are rough Russian translations at the end, I'm sorry if it's innacurate lol, I banked on google translate for this one. Enjoy my loves!

The cold metal erupted a fire against your raw skin, the red marks from the lashings earlier a grotesque sight against the stark white of the room. Your skin had attempted to stitch itself together, but the process was slow and painful, as you could feel each individual cell regenerating into flesh.

And yet not a sound escaped you. Your life depended on the silence of your movements.

There weren’t many rules in Hydra’s camp, but the most important was that you kept quiet, silent during it all. How else were you supposed to become a master assassin if you couldn’t silently handle pain? Their methods were unorthodox, but damn did they work. The first time you screamed, a volt of electricity ran through your body, locking your muscles in a painful grip. They continued, until your screams turned to groans, then turned to silent tears.

It had only been six months since your father had told you he enlisted you in this program. For the country, he had said. For your people. You wondered often if he knew the pain you were subjected to here. You’d like to think he didn’t, for your sanity’s sake.

“Up, now.” One of the guards' voices echoed as he entered the room your cage was held in. You stood determined, despite the pain that erupted through your muscles as you moved. Quiet as a mouse, you held your head high, awaiting whatever order followed.

“Good girl,” another voice said, a short stocky man entering behind the guard. You didn’t recognize him, which meant he was an operative of Hydra, sent to check in on your training. He smirked as he looked you over. Your skin had turned alabaster white from the lack of sun and the cocktail of chemicals they injected daily. Your jet black hair was stringy, dehydrated from the lack of moisture. Your skin laid over your bones like paper, weakening by the days from the lack of food and intense physical training. You resembled a shell of your old self, which is exactly what Hydra wanted.

“I hear you’ve been doing well,” his accent was different from the guards and trainers in the facility. He was English. His voice was deceptively gentle thanks to his accent, unlike the harsh Romanian and Russian the other guards spoke.

“That’s good. It means we’re doing something right.” The smirked returned, making your skin crawl. He paused, for what reason you weren’t entirely sure. A beat passed before he decided to fill you in.

“I have news, dear. You’re ready for the next phase. See, phase 1 was all about your endurance, and your initiation into a nearly immortal existence. We had to prepare you and your body for the job of a silent killer, a silent operative, if you will. You’ve proven beyond a doubt you can handle the kind of work you will be used for. Now we move to phase 2. You’ve heard the stories of our current Winter Soldier, yes?”

How could you not. You were reminded of him constantly, compared to him with every task you failed or completed. Of course he had an advantage over you- a robotic limb and a manipulated brain that could be controlled with words. They refused to do that to you. They wanted you pristine and willing to submit. The true feminine version of him in all accords except one. The very first night you were here, they had brought you into the Red Room, a multipurpose training room in this facility. It started with an operation, ending one of the feminine qualities about you. They didn’t want to risk the effects the chemicals would have on any offspring you may one day produce. Later the room was used for training on grace and your ability to move in silence like in a ballet. The irony was not lost on you.

You stayed silent to the English operatives' questions as you’ve been instructed to do. It was yet another test. One you passed with ease.

“Wow. You all truly have trained her well. I’m impressed. Anyway, darling, Phase 2 is now about strength- mental and physical. I’m not sure if you’ve looked in the mirror lately,” he paused to chuckle at his own humiliating joke. “But you’re not exactly buff. Far from it. Phase two will be about returning your strength and power back to you. The torment is over, you can rest now. You will be given a training room with equipment to use at your will to regain your muscle, while enduring mental tests to strengthen your mind, like puzzles. You like puzzles don’t you?”

It sounded too good to be true. You knew better than to give into the false hope of an easier training phase. Either the operative truly had no knowledge of the camp you were in, or he took pleasure into tormenting you even more with the promise of a release from torment. You assumed it was the latter.

He continued on with the details of your next training phase, as you stood silently, looking straight ahead. The guards behind him had a nasty smirk as he spoke. There was no way the operative was this clueless, you decided, which led to a stray tear falling onto your cheek at the thought of what new torment you were about to endure.

“Don’t cry dear, this is all for the greater good. You’ll see.” He said, reaching through the bars to place a calloused thumb over your tear. His grip was firm as he wiped it away, and it took everything in you to stand completely still.

He left with a few words to the guards on how to initiate this next phase. When they were out of sight, you slunk down in the cage, curling into a fetal position. You had to find a way to escape. You knew you couldn’t take much more of whatever training they were about to give you.

It was that night that a plan formed in your mind, flawless in execution that was bound to work. It was a gift given from the gods above.

Midnight struck with an eerie silence that echoed across the base. The lock to your cage had been picked, the door left ajar. The room was empty, and the guards stationed outside of the door stood confused, wondering where you went.

“Subject 340 is missing, I repeat, subject 340 is missing,” the guard said into his mic, as he illuminated the room with the flashlight attached to his gun. The room was without a doubt empty. You had hid in the shadows behind the door, waiting for the guards to do their midnight check on you. As they entered the room, you slipped behind them through the door, taking off silently down the hall.

Red flashing lights and sirens erupted following the command of the base leader, yelling for every guard to be on the hunt. Your bare feet padded silently down the hall as you ran, using the red blinks as a guide. The hall slinked around into a centralized area, where you knew from your intelligence training that a group of guards would be stationed, waiting for you.

There was a small opening in the wall next to you- a vent. You slunk through, following the narrow hall until it opened up to another hallway. You weaved in and out of various halls and vents, making it closer and closer to the exit you needed.

Like a ghost in the night, you dodged guards, cameras, and motion sensors. It was rather easy, your small neglected frame helping to slip through the crawl spaces and vents without any evidence you were there.

Finally, you made it to the vent you knew would bring you to the outside. It was almost too easy, as you dove through, crawling until you made it to the other side. Popping out the vent, you winced at the cold air that blew through, and another siren began to blare. It was the breached siren. You hurried out into the cold, taking off to the direction of the treeline.

You were careful in how you stepped, ensuring footprints were not left behind you. It was a dance you knew all too well, mimicking the pattern you were taught in the Red Room.

In the end, it was their own tests and training that helped you escape under their noses.

“What do you mean you lost her?” Your father boomed, his voice echoing off the walls of his war room. His face was red with anger, as he stared down the Hydra operative who had come to give him the bad news. It should have been Alexander Pierce before your father, relaying the vital information. Instead, he sent a lowly operative, resorting to hiding in his compound like the weak coward he was. It was a trait your father despised- cowardice.

“That is all the information I have, sir.”

“Where is Pierce?” Your father demanded, slamming his hand on the table before him. The operative flinched slightly in response.

“To my knowledge, he is investigating her disappearance.”

Your father shook his head, mulling over what his next steps would be. Anger boiled through his veins. He warned them to keep a close eye on you. He knew your intelligence surpassed whatever they expected, and your determination would outrank whatever test they gave you. It was why they wanted you, and why he let you go. Your intelligence would one day outrank him if left uncontrolled, you were a threat to him and his position on the council. Hydra had succeeded so well with The Winter Soldier, he had no doubt they would succeed with you. It turns out he was wrong, and if there was one thing he despised more than cowardice, it was being wrong.

You, after months of training, left alone to do as you please terrified your father. He visibly paused as the thought erupted into a beautiful plan.

“Tell Pierce to send The Winter Soldier after her. He’ll find her faster than any of our men can combined. It’s the only way we can ensure she is found and returned… tell him by whatever means necessary.” Your father said, looking the operative in the eyes as he delivered his message firmly.

The unnamed hydra operative nodded, saluting your father before retreating from the room.

The operative now stood before Pierce, in his own war and council. room. He had delivered the news just as your father had given it to him. Pierce just looked at him with wild eyes, unsure he heard the operative clearly.

“He wants us to unleash the Winter Soldier on her? Does he know that means her fate is sealed once she comes into contact with him?” Pierce asked, eyeing the operative with a curious look. A man sending a killing machine after his own daughter did not sound right- not even to the head of Hydra.

“He said ‘by whatever means necessary’,” the operative replied.

Pierce nodded.

“Let’s go find him then.”

It was easy to find The Winter Soldier’s hide out this time around. He had resided in an apartment just north of the city. He lived simply, with skeletons of furniture decorating it. Pierce sat in the dark, awaiting his return from his day in the city.

He was no longer The Winter Soldier at this moment, his alter persona turned off. Right now, he was just James Buchanon Barnes, a Romanian citizen who lived a quiet life. He had gone to the markets, buying various fresh fruits and vegetables to use for a dinner he planned to make that night.

When he returned to his apartment, he sensed something was off before he even opened the door. It was his decades of training that led him to approach carefully, opening the door slowly and silently, before proceeding into the apartment.

He avoided the floor boards that creaked, setting the bag of fruits down as quietly as he could on the kitchen counter.

It was then he recognized why he felt the way he did. Alexander Pierce sat just beyond the kitchen wall, illuminated only by the lights from outside the window to the left of him. He had yet to see Bucky’s presence, which would give Bucky the upper hand had he wanted to attack.

Instead, he slunk around the corner of the kitchen into the dining room, catching Pierce’s attention.

“Ah! James! There you are.” Pierce said, his tone friendly. Bucky sat quietly before him, waiting for Pierce to get to why he was really here.

“We have a new mission for you.”

“For me or for the Winter Soldier?” Bucky asked, his voice tight. He hated the transition to and from the Winter Soldier. It left him in ruins, a bit more fucked up than he was before. Not to mention the mental switch with the final word spoken hurt like a bitch.

“I think you know the answer to that by now James.”

Bucky sighed. He wasn’t in a position he could refuse, bound by the spell of words. Pierce pushed forward a glass of whiskey before him, offering him an outlet of relief. Bucky reluctantly picked up the glass, knocking back the warm liquid with ease.

“Can you at least tell me the mission before the switch?” Bucky asked, hopeful for a little autonomy in the situation.

“You know I can’t do that either, James.” Pierce responded. He actually looked empathetic with his response.

Bucky lowered his head, waiting for Pierce to begin the cantation of words, waiting for the mental switch up into the Winter Soldier.

“Желаниe, pжавый,” The cantation began, a piercing sound echoing in Bucky’s mind.

“Семнадцать, рассвет, Печь,”

He grunted at the feeling erupting through his body.

“Девять, Доброкачественные, Возвращение домой, Один, грузовой вагон.”

Something snapped within Bucky’s psyche. He was no longer the gentle and calm James Buchanon Barnes. No. He was the silent ghost of an assassin.

“я готов отвечать”

He was The Winter Soldier.

Feedback is greatly appreciated <3 <3

#Bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #<33333 #alohastylesx #marvel #alohastylesx works #marvel fic #bucky barnes fanfic #winter solider fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #Project Snow alohastylesx

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