#Walker isn't the only one

[bet-on-me-13]

Ghost Zone Breakout Au

So! Danny is missing. Maybe it's a Vivisection AU and he ran away, maybe he got trapped by one of his Rogues, either way, Danny is gone and his Rogues are free to spread across the planet.

Walker in particular has an interesting adventure.

After Danny trashed his Prison and broke Wulf out, people realized that it wasn't as impenetrable as he made it out to be. And what's an army of Immortal Criminals to do when given all the time in the world? They test each and every method they can to break in or to escape.

Danny's actions caused a Domino Effect that lead to Walkers Prison being torn apart from both the inside and the outside. He lost his Territory, his Power, and most of his Guards. So he decided to start again in the Mortal Realm.

And he found the perfect New Haunt.

Arkham.

He's never seen such a sorry Prison in his AfterLife (It's an asylum). Criminals breaking in and out every other week, no prisoner staying for longer than a month at most, and nobody is doing anything to fix it.

He needs to remedy this.

So one night, he and his Army of Ghostly Guards attack the Prison. They Overshadow whatever guards are on Duty, take control of the Prison Systems, and Initiate a Total Lockdown.

Walker then sends out a Message.

"People of the Mortal Realm. I an Warden Walker, the new Head of this here little Prison. We have seen how terrible this sorry excuse for a prison is, and decided to take it upon ourselves to fix it. From now on, we will be the Guards of this Arkham. Send your prisoners here, and they will stay here. Try to break in, and you will never leave. Try to force us out, and you will join our undead Ranks. This is not a Negotiation, this is not a Request, this is an Announcement. If you have a problem with this, then I will be happy for personally meet you. I am in need of new employees after all."

After this message, many tried to stop him, but none were successful. He didn't seem to understand that a Prison is meant to hold Prisoners for a determined amount of Time, not forever. Or that it wasn't a Prison in the first place, it was an Asylum to treat the mentally ill.

The Bats could do anything either. Any time they tried to take back the prison, they were beaten back by the Possessed Guards and Ghostly Guards patrolling the grounds. And they didn't want to hurt the Hostages.

They needed a solution, so they got to digging.

Apparently they weren't the only ones who were dealing with Ghost Related Issues. All across the world, powerful Ghosts were claiming large areas of land as their new Haunts, weaker Ghosts were running Rampant in the spaces in between, and JLD was being run ragged as they tried to help wherever they could.

It was a worldwide issue, and they needed to find the Cause.

After a lengthy investigation, they found that all the Ghosts originally came from one Place. A small town in Illinois where they had been trying to break into the Mortal Realm for years, but they had been stopped by another. A Ghost who protected the Mortal Realm from the powerful Spirits of the Dead.

If they had any hope of containing this threat, they needed his help. They needed to find Phantom.

[between-the-pages-ofa-book]

I know that there are going to be jokes about Bucky taking out that car because of Walker for months and I support that wholeheartedly, but I also 100% believe that Bucky would definitely meet Alexei and be willing to flip a car with him inside it. My evidence for this? I would 1000% flip a vehicle that Alexei was inside with no hesitation.

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[auroralwriting]

clean 1

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader (no use of y/n)

after the fight with john walker, you can tell bucky's arm was bothering him. so, you make a trip to see him.

word count: 1.6k | warnings: strong language, multiple parts, part two

Your suit was practically scarp metal after the fight with John Walker. He had tried his hardest to absolutely obliterate your suit. Thankfully, Tony had done a great job of designing it. With a few hours of repairs, it would be good as new.

The one thing you worried about was Bucky's arm, specifically the metal one. You saw how Walker had thrown Bucky across the room into wiring, causing it to shock Bucky's whole body. It made you uneasy to think about wether or wether not the arm was in tact, that and the fact that if it wasn't, it could very well lead to a lot of pain for Bucky.

So, using Friday, you found Bucky's new address. He'd taken residence in a small apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully, not too far from where you were reclaiming the Stark Tower. One car ride later, and you stood outside Bucky's apartment feeling more nervous than you thought you would be.

While Bucky and you weren't on bad terms, it was fair to say he was still uneasy around you. I mean, he had killed your parents, and your only living relative (minus the small Morgan) was also dead. You'd been a baby when The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria, so how could there be any bad blood between you and Bucky? You didn't even know what you had lost. That and you were more down-to-earth than Tony, realizing quickly the guilt and shame Bucky felt for his mind-controlled actions.

Using up the last bit of confidence you had, you knocked on Bucky's door. It took less than a minute, and Bucky's surprised face was staring back at you.

"Uhm, hi," You said awkwardly.

"How'd you know where I live?" Bucky asked, confused.

You held up your phone, Friday's screen appearing. "Just a quick scan of all James Buchanan Barnes in the area. Not very many," Your joke fell flat as you stood awkwardly while Bucky processed what was happening.

"Why're you here?" He asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fight with Walker." You replied. "I saw you get thrown into all those wires, I saw all the sparks."

Bucky gave a small shrug, "I'm alright."

You eyed his arm suspiciously, "That arm causing you any pain?"

Both eyes now fell on Bucky's arm. You looked back up to Bucky to see him staring at it still. "It's been better," He sighed, his reply honest.

"I can fix it if you'd like?" You suggested. Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head at your words, "Or not!" You quickly added. "I, uh, don't want to make you feel weird..er than you probably already do."

Bucky went to move his arm, and you saw the traces of pain etched into his features. "It'll be alright."

"Our fight isn't over yet, Bucky." You argued. "You should be at your best." You took a deep breath in, finding more confidence from deep within, "I promise I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. I mean, Tony literally had a hunk of metal plunged in his chest, and he made me clean it out all the time, it was really gross and-"

"Alright, alright," Bucky held his hands up. "I don't wanna hear about Tony's gross chest-hole. Just, come on in." The door opened all the way as Bucky walked inside. You trailed behind, slowly shutting the door behind you as you observed the apartment. It was really empty, just a small couch and a coffee table in front of it. The kitchen looked rather bare, too.

You took a seat on the couch, Bucky sitting next to you. You set your toolbox down in between the both of you, putting some space between your bodies.

"I need to see the connection point, if you don't mind?" You said softly, looking to Bucky's covered shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," He muttered as he hesitantly slipped off his shirt. You quickly noticed the healing scars on his shoulder, all around the joint, but you made sure to pay no attention to them as you hovered your hand over his arm. "It's fine," He said, watching your hesitantcy.

The metal was cool on your hands as you felt around it, looking for the weak point. Once you found it, you grabbed your tools and began to work at it. You weren't used to working in silence, so you tried to make some conversation.

"Steve, uh, used to tell me a lot about you." You said. Bucky raised a brow at you as you continued. "You were his knight in shining armor, or something of the sorts."

"I guess I was," Bucky gave the smallest hint of a smile. "How'd you learn how to do this anyways?"

You shrugged as you grabbed a new tool, "Tony taught me everything I know. Engineering, chemistry, physics, you name it."

"It must've been hard, just you two." Bucky said softly.

Looking up, you shook your head, "Don't start that," You said.

"But it's my fault-"

"For the last time, Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier, not you. I do not blame you, there's no reason to keep hurting yourself over this." You cut Buck off, voice slightly sharp with intention. Bucky's eyes fell on the other side of the room as you sighed, "Tony would have forgiven you, too. He just needed time."

Bucky scoffed, "He had five years."

"Of which we were gone," You countered. "I forgive you for him and myself, okay?"

“Don’t say that,” Bucky shook his head. “Just.. don’t?”

You set down your tool, staring at him. “Do you want proof?”

This gained Bucky’s interest, “Proof?” He asked, voice laced with doubt. “What proof?”

“Who do you think protected your whereabouts in Wakanda?” You asked, “Steve and Sam were on the run. Of course Tony knew you were there. I remember when he got the call. He just sat there for a while, thinking. When we talked about it, he said he was glad you were getting help.”

“What else did he say?” Bucky said with a knowing look in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s Tony, Buck. He says anything and everything and means almost none of it.” Bucky didn’t expect you to use his nickname. He liked the sound of it coming from your voice.

“That doesn’t mean he forgave me.” Bucky said.

“Well I do, okay? So stop being such a grump. I’m trying to be your friend, just let me, would you?” You sighed as you began to work on his arm again.

The soldier gave a small sigh, “Stop wasting your time on me when you have a company to run.”

“Stop trying to push me away. Also, Pepper’s helping me run it, so I have all the time in the world.” You argued.

After a brief moment of silence, Bucky spoke again. “I’m still not sure I’m safe to be around,”

The honesty surprised you, making you glance up at him to observe his face. “I’m literally face to face with your arm, tool inside it, and you wanna say you aren’t safe?”

Your comment made Bucky give a small chuckle, “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” You asked.

Bucky gave a shaky breath, “In Madripoor, when I had to take down those guys when I was pretending to be.. him,” Bucky explained, “It’s like I could still feel him trying to break free.”

You set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to avoid his scars. “Bucky, Wankanda said you’re a free man. The Winter Soldier’s gone.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to violence now.” Bucky offered, “Maybe it’s who I am.”

“No,” You replied quickly. “You are Bucky Barnes. You’re Steve’s best friend, Sergeant Barnes. You’re Sam’s friend, my friend, and you’re a survivor. You’re one hell of a fighter, you’re a victim who pushed through all his pain and suffering to become a better man, and that’s exactly who you are.” Your words left Bucky feeling like he could cry, but he just looked away. You didn’t know whether what you said was right or wrong.

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered as you began to work on his arm again.

“It’s no problem, Bucky.” You responded. You silently worked, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Bucky’s eyes poring holes into your head.

"This world doesn't deserve you," Bucky muttered as you worked. You simply hummed in reply, making Bucky's forehead crease. "I mean it, Stark. You're one of the best people in this world."

Rolling your eyes, you put away the last of your tools. "Bucky, I'm just being a decent person."

Bucky's eyes burned with a new passion, "No decent person would do all you've done for everyone you've ever come across." Before you could protest, Bucky's metal hand grabbed your chin softly. "Don't even try to argue, I know it can be hard for a Stark but can you hold your tongue?" When you didn't reply, Bucky continued. "You're so humble, so fuckin' sweet. I mean, you came all this way just to fix my arm."

"And to check on you," Your voice came out babbled as Bucky's hold on your chin was still present.

"I don't deserve your kindness," Bucky admitted, "But here you are, giving me all of it." His eyes bore into your own, his own actions betraying his mind as he slammed his lips tightly onto your own. It took you by surprise, but you happily returned the heated kiss as Bucky's hand slithered behind your neck.

"You deserve all of it, the whole world," You mumbled as you pulled away breathlessly. "The world did you dirty, and I'll be the one to wash you of it." With your words, Bucky felt his eyes water as he kissed you passionately again.

Once you pulled apart, Bucky wiped your lips with his thumb, a small smile on his lips. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around?"

"Yeah," you giggled, "I think it does."

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve sighs to himself. It's so godamn cold his car door handle is frozen.

Which means he can't open the door.

Which means he can't get in.

It's fucking dark, it's fucking cold, and Steve is one hundred percent done. If he was actually parked in the lot at work this wouldn't be a problem - isn't normally a problem - he just goes in and gets a mug of boiling water and dumps it over the door handle. Not today though, oh no, the lot at work is being resurfaced and he's been forced to park a ten minute walk away for three days this week.

Steve contemplates what to do - actually briefly contemplating taking a piss on his own car door handle and wondering if that would even work- when the only positive about this whole thing comes around the corner.

The dog walker guy. He's so cute, especially in the cold, all his fluffy hair poking out from his lopsided, clearly home made, knitted pom pom hat. Yesterday he had a whole pack of dogs with him, today he's got one.

It's a very old looking Jack Russell, waddling along. Cute dog walker guy stops, "Bill," he calls after the dog. The dog does not stop, waddling on in a determined fashion. "Bill, this is our car," the guy tries again. Bill has made it maybe fifteen feet, but he turns and looks. Seems to come to the conclusion that, 'oh yeah, that is our car,' and starts to waddle back.

The whole exchange makes Steve's day better, and he can't help the laughter. Cute guy laughs too, giving Steve a 'what can you do' kind of shrug, and the prettiest smile Steve's ever seen.

Cute dog walker guy scoops Bill up and puts him in the passenger seat, before heading around to the driver side, he must notice Steve's helplessness, or demeanor, or something, because he asks Steve, "you okay man?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just...locked out you know, doors frozen."

"Huh," the guys says coming over to inspect Steve's frozen handle, "well, I usually get Bill a pupachino, want to get coffee with us? We can bring back a couple of to go cups of hot water?"

And that sounds way, way better than pissing on his car, "yeah,that's great thanks, I'm Steve, let me at least get the coffee."

"Eddie...and are you cool with a geriatric guy sitting on your lap, because Bill already called shotgun."

"I think I'll cope."

[notafunkiller]

Bucky Barnes is the best super soldier

How it was subtly emphasized in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

He always holds back

With the Flag Smashers and even with John Walker. We could see the difference in the last 3 episodes. Sebastian Stan did an incredible job making it clear in a subtle way.

I want to mention that famous "Stay there" scene, and how it was visible Bucky was not punching as hard as he can in the fight with John.)

This is the thing about Bucky, he isn't after the kill, he just does his part. He doesn't try to show off his skills or that he is a good guy. He doesn't try to play the victim role, either. In the scene where Zemo fake-activates the Winter Soldier in Madripoor, he just makes a point. He's obviously not even trying hard.

If he wanted those in the club dead, they would be. But his self control was wow. Sebastian acted so well, his exes said everything.

*And to be honest, even when he was TWS, he could have killed everyone, but he didn't. He could have killed all of the Avengers in Civil War is they were his mission, but they weren't. This is how Natasha survived when she met him, too. It depended on what kind of mission he had (if he wasn't allowed to be seen, then the witnesses would die too, but otherwise? He didn't bother).

2. His skills

People tend to forget how smart and good at making strategies Bucky is. He's been fighting (even though he hates fighting and never wanted to be in the army) for years before he was even captured by Hydra. And this is the reason why government still want him, after all. They can use his strategies as a leader (*cough* Thunderbolts *cough*).

In the last episodes of TFATWS, we could see how he outsmarted everyone. Karli was so terrified of him.

3. Karli Morgenthau

And talking about Karli, the phone call was interesting:

She asked him if he's not tired of fighting for the wrong side, and then told him she's fighting for something bigger than herself.

"And with all the bodies you've collected, have you ever been able to say the same?"

The first thing I wanna point out is how everyone talks about the deaths Bucky caused when he was controlled by Hydra, but everyone ignores the fact that all the Avengers killed far more, but since we consider them the good side, we just don't care.

Clint, Tony, Steve, Wanda etc. They all cause(d) far more deaths than "two dozen" (known assassinations - to quote Natasha), and neither was controlled. The double standards are something else, especially for Clint. (One of the reasons why Tony was on the other side in CW was because of his guilt, after all.)

The second point is how Bucky's answer says a lot more than we might realize at first:

"You don't think I ever fought for something bigger than myself? That's all I ever tried to do, and I failed twice."

Even as TWS, Bucky had to be convinced he is on the right side, that what they do is to save the world, to give "the world the freedom it deserves".

Even brainwashed and put to sleep all the time, he had to be lied to. Bucky as TWS was a victim too. He is not a victim only because he didn't have memories or control, but also because they lied to him and used him as a toy. That milk scene is so loud. (And I am gonna talk about it in a different post). He had no rights, no choices. He was used to being tortured.

[And I wish they explored it more. We deserved and deserve a WS film - maybe with him in Romania getting back his memories, writing in his journal etc.]

"You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won't go away. You're gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don't do this. Don't go down this path."

Despite being on opposite sides, Bucky still said this to Karli, trying to help her, to make her see the big picture, sharing how he felt and feels.

He is on "the right side". He is a hero, and Bucky being thanked by that man for saving everyone's life was touching.

4. Baron Zemo

You can see how smart, strong, and rational Bucky is when he decides to break Zemo out of jail (his plan was amazing too), risking so much (his relationship with Wakanda people and his own freedom) to get his help for the mess. He puts the cause above his own (huge) trauma. And this makes that moment in Madripoor even more disgusting (he is treated as an object, as a toy):

Zemo: Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.

The way he keeps his composure, reacts and manages the situation... absolutely incredible!

This conversation also says a lot:

Zemo: The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path.

Bucky: Maybe you're wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.

Zemo: Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?

Bucky positions himself below Steve, who's considered a good hero, a good person... like no other. But Steve never had to go through what Bucky did: from being kidnapped like that, to being tested on, to falling off the train, to being tortured, and used, and brainwashed for decades, and put to sleep when he was not needed and having n "keepers".

Also, interesting how all Steve wanted was to fight (for a good cause, but still)... and fighting still means violence, meanwhile Bucky never wanted to fight, not even before becoming TWS, in the army (and yet he is still great at fighting. And he is deadly, even when he holds back.). All he wanted was peace.

Despite not getting the "perfect serum", despite being brainwashed, put to sleep, and forced to fight for decades, he is still himself. He never gave in to the dark side for real. He fought in his own way. The first thing he did when he woke up was to choke the Hydra guy with a whole new arm!

Bucky is so underrated: from his intelligence and fighting skills, to how human he is. Being flawed, keeping his sassiness and charm from the 40s, but getting more mature and carrying his past on his shoulders... he's so relatable and real. And every day, he shows Zemo he is wrong.

The show he makes in his final scene with Zemo is absolutely fantastic. He doesn't just prove the point he isn't defined by the serum and Hydra (AND not even by Steve, thanks to Sam. His speech made him realize the important thing about himself: that he decides who he is, not others - even those who know him before becoming TWS- "And this might be a surprise, but it doesn't matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." parallel to "Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing. [...] So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me."), but also that he is superior.

When Zemo tells him that he decided to let him alive (probably so he can kill Karli) and basically calls him a killing machine: "programmed to kill", Bucky plays the role, lets Zemo talk him into killing Karli, and then Bucky watches him waiting for his own death.

[Also, Bucky's line: Imagine my relief is hilarious.]

The acting was incredible: the shock on Zemo's face and the amusement and somehow relief on Bucky's after he pulls the trigger and lets the bullets fall... He proved him he's THE standard of the super soldier. Because despite everything he went through, he is the best.

Zemo telling him to cross his name off felt like a fresh start (+ telling Nakajima the truth).

5. John Walker

John, on the other hand, is lucky Bucky is an understanding person. He gets what is like... the pressure, the environment, the loss, and even tries to help.

Bucky: Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.

John: I'm not like you!

Of course he is not like Bucky, because Bucky has control. He is not killing to get revenge in a cynical way.

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record."

John kept judging Bucky every time they spoke, somehow placing himself above this "broken" man.

"This is all really easy for you, isn't it? All that serum runnin' through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

This is so wrong on every single level, especially because Bucky didn't choose to take the serum, and he always had his friends' back. He's loyal and ready to sacrifice himself.

The "funny" part about this is John ending up taking the last super soldier serum vial. All the judgement, the disgust, the patronizing tone, just to do that. Plus, of course, to kill someone with the shield.

(John proves Zemo's point about super soldiers, and Bucky does the opposite.)

And what is it easy for Bucky anyway?

He's under government conditions (so CACW coded), he has a vibranium arm that I bet the government would try to take after he dies (HOPEFULLY WHEN HE'S 200 YEARS OLD IN HIS BED, as Sebastian wants too) if he isn't in Wakanda, he is haunted by nightmares (which also can mean he is still Hydra's TWS in another universe as we found out from Strange), and he has to learn how to live for real. He's smart, charismatic, has values and principles, and he's incredible.

We need to see his version of TWS going after everyone Hydra helped. TWS is him, a part of him, and doing that on his terms, having control over it would help him heal.

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: noncon hinted, hinted somno, creampies, sexual fantasies, masturbation, fem! afab reader, forced impregnation, stalker behavior, dead dove do not eat

MDNI.

It rained today; it had rained the day before as well. But today was different - at least, for Simon it was. The usual scent of cigarette the reeked around the neighborhood was washed away by the sweet, fresh fragrance of rain. He couldn't fucking sleep for the life of him, too accustomed to his shitty, inflexible work schedule. Sleep for three hours, wake up, report in, missions, come back, standing duty, work out. It was a filthy, scrambled jumble of a schedule that made his brain hurt.

His only luxury was the reservation of his civilian life.

Didn't socialize. Hell, he barely even glanced at someone's face for longer than a few seconds - didn't need to. He had already memorized their features for as long as he deemed important. Which is how he got to finding you.

You, his pretty little neighbor. You were all too fucking sweet for a bastard like him to have such possessive fantasies about. Spend the day time outside, tending to a garden, barbequing, reading a book while bathing in the sun. Your reading glasses were a cute look for you, as was everything else.

And in the evening, when you got to cooking, you'd prop open your kitchen window and let the food cool down. The sound of your dishes being scrubbed could be heard from his own yard - it's not eavesdropping if you're so got damn loud, darling. You yammer to your friend about life, work, the bullshit you experience and the guy who tried to get in your pants last week.

Oh, a pretty thing like you doesn't deserve to tell such vulgar stories. And Simon knows it's wrong to listen. He really does have morals, and respect, and chivalry. Sure, it's hard to prove that when he's fisting his hung cock. Muffling his grunts with sucks of air and shaky exhales.

Your laugh makes his cock twitch, and your sweet little "Mhmm"s make his tip leak with bitter tasting pre. He's sure he'd taste awful, splattered in your mouth. He was sure that you were spoilt on the delicacy meals you'd make in your kitchen. Simon wouldn't force you to endure something so cruel. He'd let his cream fill your cunt, holding your hand while you cry through your orgasm, because he is a gentleman.

Realistically, Simon probably couldn't last long. Especially given the way he busted in his pants the one time you came over to the fence, leaning over it with a hop on your ladder. Gave him a great view of your tits, something you had to be aware of as you begged him to give you some of the oranges from his tree.

'Course, he complied, who was he to reject his sweet little thing?

But love, when you initiate something like that, don't be surprised when the creep at your work randomly disappears. And when you wake up to the window you left open last night closed shut, and your panties full of a sticky white liquid. If they were even still on, you'd be lucky to have some dirty panties left.

You figured, you were a sleep walker. So innocent you are. Go to the doctor about all the "discharge" leaking out of you, not even questioning the throb against your cervix and imagining they were just some cramps from an upcoming period. One that never would come. And only when he hears you sobbing while waiting for one of your pies to cool down will he approach, very sweetly asking what's wrong. Leaning by your window well you break the news to him. You're gonna be a mother, and you don't even know the father. You've been abstinent for months!

Much to your surprise, your neighbor, generously offers to help. Because baby, he gets those combat paychecks; money isn't an issue for him. Simon would generously help you, from the bottom of his heart, with no ill intent, of course.

The military offered great family benefits, after all.

ahh </3 I haven't written in so long :T

anyways i wanted to try writing somno stuff because why not.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky and reader are FWB because bucky is scared to commit and reader has feelings for bucky but doesn't tell him so reader finds other ways to push them feelings away and because reader isn't really talking to bucky he steals readers phone to catch readers attention and the phone pings and a message from john walker comes through and bucky clicks on it and sees the pictures of reader in a lingerie set he gets jealous and asks her why she is sending those pictures to John walker and reader replies why you jealous? Not like I'm yours and bucky pins reader to the wall and says "doll you're mine" gives reader the best night of her life and in the morning deletes John's number from her phone

Yours, Only

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: smut. Unprotected p in v sex. Slight angst.

The tension in the air between Bucky Barnes and Y/N had become a living, breathing thing. It was the kind of dynamic that friends didn’t typically have—heated stares, lingering touches, and shared nights where boundaries blurred. Friends with benefits, they called it, but to Y/N, it felt like so much more. To Bucky, however, it seemed to be just enough.

It had been fine at first, thrilling even. But the more time they spent together, the more her heart yearned for something more substantial. The way he made her laugh with his dry humor, the quiet moments they shared after their escapades—those were the moments Y/N cherished the most.

But Bucky was a man weighed down by his past, and commitment wasn’t something he thought he could offer. So Y/N bottled her feelings, afraid of losing him entirely. The problem was, bottling up emotions had its consequences.

🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇

Recently, Y/N had been pulling back. She still showed up for missions, worked alongside the team, and exchanged casual conversations with Bucky. But the teasing texts had slowed, the playful touches became distant, and their "arrangements" ceased altogether. Bucky noticed.

It started as a gnawing irritation that grew with each day she kept him at arm’s length. He tried to play it cool—he wasn’t her boyfriend, after all—but he couldn’t stop the pang of frustration when he caught her smiling at someone else or, worse, leaving the room the second he entered.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked one night when they crossed paths in the common room.

“Nothing, Barnes,” she replied coolly, not even glancing up from her phone. The way she called him "Barnes" stung more than it should have.

His blue eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push her. Instead, he let her retreat—again.

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

Bucky was never one to snoop, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When Y/N left her phone on the table after a team briefing, he made his move. Sam had stepped out to grab lunch, Steve was busy with paperwork, and Natasha had raised an eyebrow but let him be.

Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open to the lock screen. A swipe revealed no password, a fact that made him smirk. "Careless," he muttered under his breath.

A soft chime pinged from the phone. Glancing down, his smirk faltered. A message from John Walker flashed across the screen, accompanied by a photo preview that made his jaw tighten.

Y/N, in a lingerie set, her curves accentuated perfectly by the sheer material. It was undeniably alluring—and it sent a surge of possessive anger through him. The scarlet lingerie a fiery halo around her form. The plunge of the bra, a daring invitation, reveals the swells of her breasts, their softness seemingly begging to be touched. The fabric clings to her body like a second skin, tracing the contours of her waist and hips in a sensual dance of shadow and light. Her legs, elegantly placed, stretch out before her, the garter belt a playful accent that speaks to the promise of what lies beneath the matching thong. Her stockings, sheer and whisper-thin, are held up by those garters, hinting at the act of peeling them away layer by layer.

Bucky clicked on the message without hesitation.

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

When Y/N came looking for her phone an hour later, Bucky was waiting in the training room, leaning against the wall with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Have you seen my phone?” she asked, scanning the area.

He held it up between his fingers, his grip firm. “Looking for this?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, reaching for it. But Bucky didn’t let go. Instead, he tilted his head and fixed her with a sharp gaze.

“Mind telling me why Walker has pictures of you like this?” he growled, flipping the phone to show her the image.

Y/N froze, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “You went through my phone?”

“You left it unlocked,” he shot back. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Why do you care, Barnes?” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. “It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” His voice lowered dangerously. “You think I’m just going to let this slide?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as anger flared within her. “Let what slide? It’s not like I’m yours, Bucky.”

The words hit their mark, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and unguarded. Then, faster than she could react, he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the wall.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’ve always been mine.”

His declaration left her breathless, her heart hammering against her ribs. She searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but all she found was unwavering certainty.

“Bucky,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

smut————smut———smut———smut————-smut————smut

He didn’t let her finish. His lips captured hers with a fervor that left no room for doubt. The pent-up tension between them exploded in a kiss that was both demanding and tender, a mix of frustration and longing.

Their bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the space that had grown between them. His hands slid to her hips, gripping her tightly, while hers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more intense with each passing second, their tongues dancing a passionate ballet of desire. Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath, tasting the mint on his lips.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky searched her eyes. “I can’t keep pretending this isn’t more, Y/N. It’s killing me.”

Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air. Was this a confession? Or a declaration of his own feelings? She didn’t know, but she felt something shift inside her—a hope she’d been too scared to acknowledge.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He took a deep, ragged breath. “Everything,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “But I don’t know if I deserve it.”

The honesty in his voice broke down the final barriers she’d built around her heart. Tears welled in her eyes as she placed a hand over his, holding it in place. “You do. More than you know.”

With a growl of need, Bucky’s hands moved to her ass, lifting her so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist. He grinded into her, the friction between them setting her nerves alight. Y/N gasped, her core clenching at the delicious pressure. She’d missed this, missed him, missed the way he made her feel—like she was the most important person in the world to him.

“Prove you want it,” she challenged, her voice thick with desire.

Bucky didn’t waste any time. He carried her out of the training room and down the hallway, ignoring the surprised looks from passing agents. His movements were swift, yet gentle, driven by an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart.

Reaching her apartment, he kicked the door open, setting her down just long enough to lock it behind them. Then, without breaking their heated gaze, he scooped her up again, walking her backwards until the backs of her legs hit the bed.

He laid her down, his body hovering above hers. The weight of his gaze was heavy, filled with a hunger that made her pulse race. Y/N could feel his erection pressing against her through their clothes, a silent testament to his need for her. She reached for his belt, but Bucky stopped her, his hand capturing hers.

“Let me,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuttoned her shirt. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of skin revealed. He pushed the fabric aside, exposing her bra-covered breasts to the cool air. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared, his pupils dilated with desire.

With a gentle tug, he removed her bra, revealing her hardened nipples to his view. He leaned down, brushing his lips against them, and she arched her back with a moan. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her ache for more. Bucky’s touch was reverent, almost as if he were afraid she’d vanish if he applied too much pressure.

Her hands found his shoulders, urging him closer. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her palms as she slid them down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath. His skin was warm to the touch, and she craved the feel of him against her, bare and unyielding.

With a sudden surge of strength, she flipped their positions, straddling him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of protest. Finding none, she began to kiss him again, her hands moving to unbuckle his belt. Bucky’s breath hitched, and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding up her back, urging her closer.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room. His shirt was next, tossed aside with a growl. His skin was a canvas of scars and muscles, a testament to the battles he’d survived. Y/N kissed each one, her mouth tracing the path of his pain. His chest heaved under her touch, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Take me, Bucky,” she whispered, her voice thick with need.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands found the hem of her pants, and with a swift move, he had her bare before him. The heat in his gaze was almost tangible as he took in the sight of her, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice hoarse.

Y/N felt a thrill at his words, a warmth that spread through her body like wildfire. She leaned down, capturing his mouth in another kiss, her hips moving against his erection.

Bucky’s hands gripped her ass, urging her closer. His thumbs traced the lines of her panties, and she moaned into his mouth. With a sudden, surprising tenderness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid them down her legs, leaving her completely exposed.

He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Then, with a gentle push, he had her lying beneath him again, his body aligning with hers. The head of his cock nudged against her, and she spread her legs wider, silently begging for him to fill her.

With one swift thrust, he was inside her, the sensation so intense she saw stars. They moved together, their rhythm natural and unspoken, as if their bodies had known each other for lifetimes. The friction between them was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew louder with each passing moment.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as their bodies tangled together. Y/N’s nails dug into Bucky’s back, her legs wrapping around his waist. The room spun around them, their worlds collapsing into a single point of heat and passion.

“I need you to know,” Bucky panted between kisses, his voice strained. “I need you to feel it—how much you mean to me. How much I want this to be more than just this—more than just a fuck.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Bucky, I—”

He silenced her with another kiss, his hips rolling into her with a force that made her toes curl. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps. Bucky’s hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her with a newfound sense of urgency. His thumbs circled her nipples, teasing and taunting, until she was writhing beneath him.

Y/N’s hips met his every thrust, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him deeper. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, the tension in her body coiling tightly. Bucky’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on her hips tightening until she knew she’d have bruises. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her, the way his eyes searched hers as if trying to drown in the depths of her soul.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over her, Y/N’s nails dug deeper into his back. She cried out his name, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Bucky groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he continued to pump into her, chasing his own release. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with desire and emotion.

When he finally came, it was with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the room. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently as he emptied himself inside her.

Y/N felt a strange thrill at his words. It was as if he’d branded her with his very essence, claimed her in a way that went beyond the physical. Her walls crumbled, and she realized that she’d been waiting for this—for him to acknowledge what she’d been feeling all along.

Bucky’s breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxing into hers. He kissed the spot where he’d bitten her, his lips lingering. “Mine,” he murmured against her skin, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. In that moment, she knew that she’d never be the same. She’d been marked by the Winter Soldier, claimed by the man she’d tried so hard not to love. And she didn’t want to be anyone else’s.

They laid there for a while, their hearts beating in sync, the silence speaking volumes. Y/N felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t experienced in a long time—perhaps ever.

Slowly, Bucky pulled out of her, his eyes never leaving hers. He rolled over onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he feared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

————————————-end of smut————————————————

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She felt his thumb rub circles into her back, soothing her, grounding her.

“You know you’re stuck with me now, right, doll?” he whispered, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear.

The words sent a warm glow through her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that maybe she could have more with Bucky—that maybe he could be her everything.

“Bucky, what do you mean by that?” Y/N’s voice was small, filled with a mix of fear and hope.

He sighed, his chest moving against her with the force of his breath. “It’s complicated, doll,” he murmured. “But the simple version is that I don’t want to be the one who’s just good for a night anymore. I want to be the one who’s good for forever.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She’d been dreaming of this moment, but hearing it from him was different. It was real—and terrifying. She didn’t know how to respond, so she buried her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him, letting it fill her lungs.

They laid there in silence for a few moments longer before Bucky spoke again, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “We should talk about this, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you off, but I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t happening between us.”

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she’d been both dreading and longing for. She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she said, her voice strong despite the tremble in her chest. “Talk to me.”

Bucky rolled onto his back, bringing her with him so she was draped over his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. His hand traced idle patterns on her back as he spoke. “You know my past, all the things I’ve done. I’ve never felt like I could offer someone like you anything real—anything that would make you happy. But when I’m with you, I feel…different. Like maybe I could be the man you deserve.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she listened to his words, feeling the weight of his confession in every beat of his heart beneath her cheek. “You are that man, Bucky,” she whispered. “You’ve always been that man to me.”

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face. “But what if I’m not enough?” he asked, his voice raw.

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. “You are enough. More than enough. And if you can’t see that, then I’ll just have to show you every day.”

The tension in the room had shifted, the air now thick with a new kind of anticipation. Bucky’s hand slid up her arm, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist before moving to cup her cheek. He pulled her down for another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate than the ones before.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N could feel the change in him—the tension in his muscles had relaxed, his eyes had softened. He was looking at her with something new—a kind of hope she’d never seen in them before.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low and firm. “We’ll figure this out together. But I’m not letting you go, not now that I know what you mean to me.”

A smile spread across her face, genuine and warm. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Their eyes held for a long moment before Bucky leaned in and kissed her again, his hand sliding down to rest over her heart. The beat beneath his palm was a steady reminder of what she meant to him—what they meant to each other.

🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄

Sunlight streamed through the curtains the next morning, warming Y/N’s bare shoulders. She stretched languidly, the memories of the night before flooding back in vivid detail. Turning over, she found Bucky already awake, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smirk.

“Morning, doll,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Y/N flushed under his gaze, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Morning.”

As she reached for her phone on the bedside table, Bucky stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. “You won’t be needing this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

He unlocked the phone with a swipe and handed it to her. The screen showed her contacts list, now missing a particular name.

“Bucky!” she gasped, sitting up. “You deleted John’s number?”

“Damn right I did,” he replied unapologetically. “He doesn’t get to see you like that. That’s for my eyes only.”

She gaped at him, torn between exasperation and affection. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “But you’re mine, doll. And that’s all that matters.”

Epilogue

From that day forward, things between them were different. Bucky didn’t run from his feelings anymore, and Y/N didn’t have to push hers away. Their relationship was messy and imperfect, but it was real—and it was theirs.

And John Walker? Well, he didn’t need to know what he was missing…

——————————————————————————————————

Hi! I really hope you enjoyed this. It wasn’t specified if you wanted smut, so I opted to make it a part that you could skip if you wanted. 🫶

Requests Open!

[little-pondhead]

So, what I'm hearing is Danny could be the new Fright Knight, and is in charge of the new king's protection, up until he becomes part of the family himself.

Halloween prompts year 2 day 18

Danny raced through the ghost zone in a panic, how had he missed this? Appearently vlad had released Pariah Dark from his coffin again and got smeared into a paste. The mad king had then went into another dimension, hoping to conquer it and gain more power and skeleton soldiers only to be met in battle by a group of powerful warriors calling themselves the Justice League. Vlad had somehow survived the initial butt kicking and tried to use ghost tech to finally take the king down.

Unfortunately for him, pariah saw him coming in the reflection of a lady warriors blade and killed him.

Somehow the fight dragged on halfway across the US until they got to New Jersey where some billionaire guy was hosting one of his kids 18th birthday bash at his mansion. Pariah appearently crashed threw the roof, a hero dropped the weapon they had taken from Vlad and, in an effort to save his family, Brucie Wayne took the weapon and warned Pariah not to come any closer to his kids.

Pariah mocked him and raised his weapon to a young man with a white streak in his hair they was spayed across the floor in a daze.

Next thing anyone knew the King was dead.

Bruce Wayne had killed the previous king in single combat.

Bruce Wayne was the new Ghost King

Bruce Wayne was sitting on the throne in Pariahs keep looking very unsettled.

Crud. Danny needs to keep this guy and his kids safe doesn't he?

[rochenn]

the walkers in star wars make me irrationally angry like look at those things. they all failed the moose test. legs as long as the goddamn washington monument and about as flexible too. you KNOW they have understeer. destroy only one leg out of four to cripple the entire machine. crew survivability sits at a solid "good luck dude".

this goes for the republic walkers with extra legs too. do those things have a speed that isn't grandpa strolling past a construction site? why do they move at tortoise velocity? scrap them all IMMEDIATELY

[dixons-sunshine]

Daryl Dixon x Mom!Reader With Baby Headcannons

*GIF isn't mine*

Warnings: None, really.

Word count: 802

A/n: I'm in desperate need for some Scud Frohmeyer or Daryl requests. I have two requests that I'm working on right now but I have no idea where I want to go with them, so they're going to be on hold for now until I get the motivation to write them again. I'm so sorry, but I'm hoping that some new ideas might spark some motivation back into my mind, then I can go back to those stories and give it my all!

—

★ For Daryl Dixon, there were only three days in his entire life that meant the world to him—the day you became his, the day you told him that you were pregnant and the day your baby was born.

★ When he held his baby for the first time, he definitely teared up a little. The little being in his arms was so tiny but so perfect. He would die to protect his baby.

★ Daryl would have no problems with staying up late to take care of the baby while you slept. In fact, he would insist on it most of the time. He didn't want to be the type of guy who slept while the girl had to always take care of the baby. You and the baby were the most important people to Daryl, and if it meant offering up his sleep to ensure you both were okay and that you, the mother of his child was well rested, so be it.

★ Although Daryl took most of the night shifts with the baby, there were a lot of times when you'd refuse to go back to sleep and stubbornly stay up with him.

★ In those 3am times with the two of you taking care of your bundle of joy is when Daryl would wonder how he managed to get that lucky. Merle had told him once that people like him and Daryl weren't cut out to have families and that even if they did, it would bring them nothing but misery.

★ But there he was, holding both the love of his life and his baby, in his arms, and he was the happiest man in the world.

★ Daryl would be so affectionate with the baby that you wished that you had a video camera to record it.

★ He would tell the baby stories that he could vaguely remember Beth telling Judith back at the prison, and he would tell them in the softest voice ever. There was no doubt that he loved that baby with his whole heart.

★ He would definitely also be extremely affectionate with you. Cuddles, kisses, hugs, you name it. Mainly because he's happy with his little family, but also because he's relieved. He knew the risks of dying while giving birth were there, so to have you alive and well after the birth was a huge relief to him.

★ While the feelings of happiness and love overpower his other emotions most of the time, doubt and fear still creep up from time to time.

★ Daryl feared that something would happen to you and the baby. It was a dangerous world you lived in and anything could happen at any given moment. But Daryl swore to himself that he would die fighting to protect you and your little one.

★ Daryl also doubted sometimes if he was a good father. He never had a good example of one growing up and he feared that he would end up being like his father. But even as those thoughts plagued his mind, one look at his baby and he knew that he would never be able to be that cruel towards his little one. However, the fear still lingered, and it would probably be there forever.

★ You and the baby came first. Always. You thought Daryl was overprotective while you were pregnant? It would be nothing compared to when the baby is born. Everybody knew not to even look at you wrong or they would be food for the walkers.

★ His escapades beyond the walls would decrease significantly. He preferred to be by yours and the baby's sides as much as he could, and nobody would be able to tear him away.

★ Daryl has definitely snuck a picture of you holding the baby in your arms while the both of you were sleeping. He keeps it in his pocket at all times.

★ Daryl would definitely keep the baby in his arms at all times if you ever had to venture beyond the walls.

★ Yours and the baby's safety were his main priority, so he definitely wouldn't let you out of his sight until you're all back inside the walls again.

★ He loves you both with his whole heart, that much anyone could see.

[ashtheketchum]

NSFW alphabet Daryl Dixon

A/N: I don´t really have a smut right now, so I just post this- Maybe I will write such alphabets more often, but with other characters, let's see :D

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, GN.Reader

Masterlist!

_________________________

A(ftercare: How are they after the sex?):

Daryl actually always takes care of you after you two had sex. He cleans you up, kisses you, and gives your some of his clean clothes. Sometimes he even kisses your entire body from top to bottom again before forcing you to go to the bathroom. (He read somewhere that you should always go to the bathroom after having sex).

B(ody part: Their favourite body part):

If Daryl had to choose one body part that he finds most attractive, he would choose your thighs. He loves grabbing them, he loves massaging them, and he loves when you vage his head between your thighs.

Your favorite part of Daryl's body is either his arms or his slim waist. His arms are well-trained and it feels nice when he holds you in them. Even in public, you sometimes can't help but hug his upper arms or just put your hand on them. You just love that his waist is so slim. Broad shoulders, broad chest and slim hips. Sometimes when you hug each other, you wrap your arms around his waist instead of his neck.

C(um: Everything that has to do with cumming):

Daryl doesn't come inside you (whether you're a man or a woman). He knows the risks all too well and therefore only comes on your body or in a condom. At first he always pulled out before he came, but sometimes he stole condoms from Glenn.

D(irty Secret):

I'll go with the classics and say that Daryl has often imagined fucking you on his motorcycle. He would simply drive out with you, somewhere where you are alone and where it is safe, and then he would fuck you on the motorcycle. Daryl also sometimes felt more comfortable outside of the group, after all, he spent half of his childhood outside, in nature.

E(xperience: How much experience do they have?):

I don't think Daryl has no experience at all. After all, he had Merle as a brother and he either talked about sex or drugs. (Sometimes maybe some racist things too, I don't know-). So he knows the basics, but he's open to knowing more.

F(avourite position: In which position do they like to fuck you the most?):

Daryl actually likes almost any position, but he prefers the positions where he can see your face. He wants to see your face change, twist with pleasure. That just turns him on even more. So if he had to choose, it would be either missionary or cowgirl. Since Daryl also likes to touch you, he always wants to touch your thighs or ass, massage them, or sometimes even pinch them.

G(oofy: Are they humorous?):

Daryl isn't humorous in other situations, so why is he humorous during sex? He thinks that sex is something special between two people and he doesn't want to ruin it, especially with you. Besides, Daryl would be too caught up in the lust and the feeling that he wouldn't even think about being humorous.

H(air: Are they shaved?):

Pfff, please- Daryl doesn't cut his hair, so why should he shave his body? If it really bothers you that he has pubic hair, he'll trim his hair a little, but that's all he does. He doesn't understand the point of it. And of course, Daryl doesn't care if you´re shaved or not. You should do what you feel comfortable with. "Ya think a lil' hair can scare me awa'? I kill fuckin' walker, darlin´…"

I(ntimacy: Are they romantic during the sex?):

Unfortunately, Daryl doesn't know much about how to be really romantic during sex… He once asked Carol for advice, but he didn't really learn anything from it. But he tries to make you feel good and comfortable. He kisses you passionately, sometimes lights a few candles to make the atmosphere more romantic, and he also gives you flattering compliments.

J(erk off: Do they masturbate a lot?):

Daryl never saw sex and masturbation as necessary. Before he had you, he masturbated maybe once a month, and even since he had you, you haven't had sex very often. When you were just friends, however, he had put his hand on you more often (maybe once a week, or so-).

K(ink: What turns them on?):

Daryl loves getting compliments. He may not be good at taking them, but when you compliment him on how good he makes you feel or how good he looks- dude, this man goes crazy!

L(ocation: Where do they prefer to do it?):

Even though Daryl sometimes dreams of fucking you on his motorcycle, he prefers it when you two have sex in a private room. So his bedroom or your bedroom.

M(otivation: What puts them in the mood?):

Daryl gets a turn on when you can fight or defend yourself. I think everyone can agree with me when I say that Daryl likes people who are strong and can survive in the nature, so when he sees you hunting for food or killing a walker, he feels a little tingle in his lower abdomen.

N(o: What would they never do?):

Besides the fact that he would never hurt you, Daryl would never fuck you in public. He would love to do it with you in the deep woods, but not in Alexandria behind your house or on the walls. It would be far too uncomfortable and embarrassing for him if someone caught you two. In the deep woods, Daryl can at least see everything clearly and he also knows places that hardly anyone would pass by.

O(ral: Do they prefer to give or to receive?):

Daryl prefers to give it to you. Not that he doesn't enjoy it when you give him a blowjob, but your well-being is his number one priority.

P(ace: How fast do they like it?):

For Daryl, it depends on the mood. If you had a romantic evening and everything was relaxed, you have slow and passionate sex. But if you both really want to let off steam, you have hard and fast sex.

Q(uickie: Their opinion about quickies?)

Even if Daryl doesn't enjoy them, he accepts that you sometimes have to have them. He is an important part of the group and therefore doesn't always have time for sex. But he prefers it when you can take your time with sex.

R(isk: Do they sometimes take risks?):

No, no, no, no! Be it the risk of being caught by walkers or by humans, he wants to avoid both.

S(tamina: How is the stamina?):

Daryl has very good stamina, but he sticks to your stamina when it comes to sex. He could definitely last 4 rounds, maybe more. (Depending on his mood, sometimes more.)

T(oy: Do they use toys?):

Daryl doesn't understand the point of a toy. He also doesn't see the point in risking his life for a plastic dildo or vibrator. He can satisfy you just as well, if not even better.

U(nfair: Do they tease you sometimes?):

Daryl really wants to make you feel as good as he feels, but sometimes he changes his pace from fast and hard to slow and gentle. He enjoys the way your face twists in frustration, but he also quickly releases you by changing his pace from slow and gentle to fast and hard again.

V(olume: How loud are they?):

Daryl just growls and sighs quietly. On very rare occasions he whimpers loudly, but these moments are very rare. If you want him to be louder during sex, you will unfortunately have to talk to him about it.

W(ild card: A random headcanon about them):

Daryl loves it when you give him attention. But not too much and not in public. Play with his hair, massage his shoulders, kiss his face or just sit with him and hug him tightly. He then feels incredibly comfortable and loved and very often you end up having sex. Plus points if you hold him close to you during sex or gently pull on his hair.

X(x-rey: How long are they down there?):

Nah, now... let´s be serious... I have seen many, MANY pictures where you can clearly see that he is not small! His dick is probably 8 inches long (20 cm), very thick around the base and he also has some strong veins that you can see when there is a lot of blood flow through them.

Y(earining: How high is their sexual drive?):

Not very high. Daryl has a way of accumulating everything. He could survive several months without sex and have no problems, but as soon as you become sexually active again, he lets it all out.

Z(zzz: How fast do they fall asleep after it?):

Daryl never falls asleep after sex. He takes care of you, makes you comfortable, and then watches you sleep or goes back to work.

[drac-kool-aid]

Y'know, something that gets me, is that in the book, Dracula's intentional predation of Lucy starts off with an accidental meeting. Sure, Lucy slept walked, and an argument could be made her path might have been supernaturally influenced, but I say she'd already been a known sleep-walker, and she went directly to a place she was familiar with.

Her stumbling onto Dracula's hiding spot in a very vulnerable state was just an accident, and from there, he intentionally set out to harm her, and through that, everyone around her he could get.

This is sort of related to Jonathan, too. Had Mr. Hawkins not come down with a bad case of gout, Jonathan wouldn't have been sent to Castle Dracula in his stead. Sure, Dracula probably would have had his fun with Hawkins before inevitably killing him, but I doubt he would have drawn it out so long or taken so much delight.

Dracula never sets out with a master-plan to attack Lucy or Jonathan. They just end up in his path and spark his interest. We know that if he isn't interested in you, he'll kill you. He'll, he breaks Mr. Swales neck doesn't even bite him. But the two victims he decides he's going to make suffer the longest he possibly can, he just stumbles upon and goes "oh this will be fun". Later, we see him start choosing victims as a way to retaliate, but for the two inciting incident victims upon which the rest of the story hangs...its just wrong place wrong time.

The reason this struck me is that I was misremembering. For some reason, which I now believe due to thinking about the *through gritted teeth* Coppola film, is that Lucy is sort of hand-picked by Dracula to be his victim. And yeah, the fucking film ain't subtle in its blaming of Lucy's victimization on the fact that she was Too Pretty and Too Flirtatious and Dracula psychically drew her into the garden in a flowing diaphanous dress, but it's really her fault....I hate this movie.

Like, i just read the films Wikipedia plot synopsis, Dracula "psychically seduces" Lucy before biting her. He chooses her out of everyone in England deliberately.

And just...no. That's not what happens. Lucy got so stressed from her wedding that her latent sleep walking started again. Mina gets so tired from the constant stress she falls asleep without meaning to. Lucy went to their favorite spot...Dracula just happened to be there and took advantage and both Lucy and Mina weren't floating along softly into a garden with a fan letting their hair blow, but cold, scared, and covered in mud and blood, and forced to sneak back to the house that way, facing not only the supernatural but the very ordinary horrors of being caught outside at night by a strange man.

Idk. The tragedy is that Dracula didn't set out to fuck with these people. It's just that they were the ones who crossed his path that he took an interest in, and he decided to draw it out as long as possible.

(Oh fuck, this is the crew of the Demeter too. It isn't like Draculas got some big plan. He just decides he's going to play with his food. Had he boarded any other ship it would have ended up the same way.)

I guess in conclusion, I find it odd that adaptions seem to need to find a reason for him doing what he does. Like, Coppola has to conjure up a whole reincarnation backstory at one point, but I don't understand why!! Let Dracula just be an opportunist, his casual cruelty knowing no reason. That makes him scarier.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Daryl Dixon one where he almost loses her to someone/something/or a walker so he decides to tell her that he loves her and he makes love to her as well. A little possessive and maybe kinda future family references?

.⋆｡Worst Timing｡⋆.

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Daryl is an all or nothing man, so obviously he would only tell you that he was desperately in love with you right after you almost died.

Warnings: canon-level violence, walkers, loosely based around s6 ep9, sorry no smut this time (i blame the luteal phase), angst, fluff, confessions, blood, mention of kids  WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

A/N: Could be read as a part 2 to this but it isn't necessary to read it first

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The sounds of walkers were almost deafening, almost. The crackling of the flames behind him and the squelch of blades against flesh but Daryl forced himself to ignore all of that, though the volume kept increasing like someone had turned up the world’s biggest stereo. 

Withered hands reached for him, but the hunter battered them away with a swing of his knife. He just had to get further into the crowd, he could see the house where the group had been held up, the candles in the window like a beacon in the night. He was only a couple hundred feet away, a few rows of walkers between him and his people.

The sea of rotting bodies parted for just a moment, right as a street lamp flickered to life, and there you were. A crowbar in your dominant hand, your clothes soaked in blood and walker guts, your eyes reflecting the fire in front of you and for a moment, Daryl froze in awe. You gracefully swung the weapon over your head, bringing it down into the skull of a fresh walker before spinning on your heel and using the otherside to connect with the jaw of another. You moved fluidly, like this was a well-practised dance you had done hundreds of times before instead of a game of survival. 

Your arm came down, spiking a crawler through the top of its skull. But suddenly, you stopped moving, your eyes going wide. You grabbed at the crowbar with both hands and pulled back but it refused to budge, and just as you vanished once more into the crowd, Daryl saw why.

The straight end of the crowbar had pierced all the way through the walker and buried itself in the hard soil beneath your feet and with the walkers closing in around you, you had no room to get enough leverage to pull it out. Then you vanished between the walkers once more.

“Y/N!” Daryl didn’t even think as he launched himself in your direction, hunting knife screaming through the air, cutting down anything that stood in his way. He pushed and shoved and clawed his way through because you were all that mattered, you were all he lived for. The moment he met you in that stupid, beautiful, damned farm, his world had tilted on its axis.

Your smile was his sunlight, your laugh, his favourite music. Your body, his aurora borealis. You were a miracle and yet so painfully human all the same. And if he let you die, his heart would wither away with you before he ever got to tell you that it had been yours since before you both had even met.

Red blurred his vision though whether it was from blood or rage, he didn’t care to find out. He threw his broad shoulder into the chest of a particularly tall walker, forcing it back into the waiting blade of one of the Alexandrians and finally, finally clearing the way to you. 

You were pinned against the street curb, your back curved at an awkward angle as the weight of two walkers kept you from standing or rolling away. You held one back with your left arm, its face barely centimetres from your own, as you wedged a knee between you and the second one.

His fingers sank into the rotted flesh of the creature trying to sink its teeth into your forearm and threw it off with so much force that as soon as it hit the concrete several feet away, its skull cracked open, spilling black brain matter onto the street. You were now fully on your back, still punching and kicking in any direction you could, even as the walkers started to thin. You shoved off the second walker, just in time for Daryl’s steel-toed boot to come down right on the back of its head.

“Daryl.” His name dripped from your lips like honey, immediately cooling his head like some sort of balm to his soul. The ground shook as he fell to his knees next to you. The orange light of the lake still burning strong flickered across your face, illuminating every single detail he had memorised so long ago.

The roughness of his palm met the softness of your full cheek, sending a spark of excitement racing through his tired body. “I almost lost ya.” You pressed into his touch, your own shaking hand cupping his elbow as you leaned in closer.

“But you saved me.” His heart skipped a beat and you smiled gently at him. You were here, you were alive and in his arms and suddenly, Daryl couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

Your lips were chapped and dry but perfect all the same as he finally kissed you. A squeak of surprise passed from your mouth to his before your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed against him. Your fingers curled into the soft leather of his vest, like you were trying to anchor him to you as if he were about to get up and walk away. Daryl snarled at the thought, his grip on your jaw getting tighter as the kiss began to heat up.

You were desperately chasing his lips, your feelings so plainly laid out for him that Daryl felt stupid for never having seen them before. He felt your need to be by his side in the warmth of your touch, the faith you had in him in the way you let his weight rest against you. 

The softness of your body moulded to him in a way he could only imagine it would and it was so much more than that. Your nose bumped into his, prompting him to tilt his head. You responded with a soft moan that shot through his body. 

“While I am happy for you two, we still have shit to do, now’s not really the time.” You pulled away from Daryl’s lips with an embarrassed gasp, leaving him cold without your touch. Michonne stood above the both of you, equally haggard and filthy but her smile, although small, was genuine if not teasing. 

“Sorry.” You scrambled to your feet and pulled your crowbar from where it was still stuck. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at Daryl, a promise and heat in your gaze, before you jogged off into the centre of town where the herd was now thinned but still biting. 

He watched you go, his heart trailing behind you. “Rick’ll want to be godfather to your kids, just so you know.” 

A blush exploded across his face. “Shuddup.” He rushed after you, cheeks still burning and his body exhausted but he felt lighter than he had ever felt before. Because you were surviving and you were his and by whatever god was out there, he would spend the rest of his life thanking them for that.

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[exyrpf]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

1/?

👑 girlbossriko follow

how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them

👑 girlbossriko follow

????? do i know u

#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep

558 notes

💃fox-me-up follow

ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀

#psu lb #exy lb

8 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT

#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd

102 notes

☀️ usctrojanny

every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)

#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying 🤷‍♀️

58 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

did he just......

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

guys please tell me i'm not insane

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE

#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!

407 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)

#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy

84 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death

#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this

284 notes

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

feeling normal

215 notes

📜 realexyblog

actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine

112 notes

🐋 sexyexy

'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it

11 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player

#i don't believe that straight exy players exist

56 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

📖 sapphic-exy follow

he literally killed someone

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count

807 notes

🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy

got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD

2 notes

🌸 softexy

Kevin Day - A Study

#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen

378 notes

[laswells-ashtray]

John never thinks too hard about his childhood, he thinks he's past it. Drunken dad who died when he was a teen, mum who died the day he was born. No point wasting time on that and he thinks he's outgrown that point in his life. Maybe Dad was a bit heavy-handed with the belt but that was more acceptable back then, no need to fuss, and when he compares it to the stories Simon let slip when they both went a little too hard with the drink, he has nothing to complain about.

He never shares any family stories, yeah, Soap will share a story about how he was named after his dad and it sparks a conversation, Kyle will explain the origin of his name proudly, Simon will offer a sparse answer and none of them will ask for any further context. John will offer some half-assed explanation about being named after his old man's old man, someone he never met and never thinks about. Kyle asks him about his mother with a gentleness that can only mean he's noticed that John never talks about her, he offers the classic "never knew her" and it isn't a lie. It isn't. Because he didn't know her, she left earth the same day he made his appearance on it, the value of his life has always been at the cost of another, it's why he makes such a good captain. And he's sick of hearing "oh, I'm sorry" whenever he mentions that he's dead. He's a grown man, he can only hear so many apologies before they become just pointless words that hold no value.

So, it doesn't bother him. Two people he knew are dead, they started the list of countless other names that he doesn't bother thinking about.

And then he comes back from a mission one day, it was a shitshow. Nothing went to plan because their intel was fucked and everyone is frustrated. Ghost had to get stitches in a wound on his arm, isn't the end of the world but it was avoidable. Gaz, the poor fucker is concussed and Soap has the fun job of waking him up every two hours to check on him, a job he was assigned by a medic after they pulled the glass out of his hand. John is almost certain his ankle is sprained, his entire body is a bruise, he lost a good fucking cigar and he snapped at Laswell over comms so he owes an apology that he's planning in advance.

He wants Nik, it might be juvenile but he's tired in a way he can feel in his bones and he wants his pilot.

He finds Nik, he doesn't have to say anything as they head back to his room. Nik knows, Nik always knows. There's the briefest of exchanges as he strips out of his kit and he heads to the shower with the slightest relief knowing that his night is going to end in lazy sex and being stuck under the warm blanket of the Russian bear of a man.

He walks out with damp hair in a pair of boxers and socks because the floor is fucking cold with the constant draft and all but collapses face-first onto his bed. He'll offer Nik a murmured apology later for being selfish but he just isn't sure he can form the words right now.

He can hear Nik kicking off his boots behind him with little care as to where they land, it's a familiar sound from nights like this. He's as relaxed as he's going to get until he hears it, the sound of someone fumbling with their belt buckle. For years it's been just a noise but for the briefest of moments he tenses up in preparation, shoulders raised instinctively to try and block the leather from catching the back of his neck. He's not sure if he's breathing and he can smell whisky, the old fucker must've lobbed the bottle at the wall again and the last dredges of Johnnie Walker red label are soaking into the carpet again. If he doesn't remember to clean it before he goes up to bed then he's fucked, the old drunk will wring his fucking neck just like last time when he-

"John?" The hand on his back is warm as it lands between his shoulder blades, it should be comforting and he should relax into it. He doesn't. He's ashamed of the way he flinches, kicking out a leg as he tries to push himself up the bed and away from it hits him. It's Nikolai. The hand belongs to Nik.

He turns to face the other man, lying on his side and propped up with an elbow. He isn't sure if the sheer mortification he feels is obvious, or the tremors in his hands. He hasn't reacted like that since he was a boy.

"Fuck, Nik. Sorry, just lost in my own fucking head- Sorry, give me a sec and we can get to it." It's humiliating, he's the one who asked for sex and a fucking belt sends him over the edge.

"No, no `getting to it`. We shall continue another night." And there he's gone and done it, his fucking inability to keep his composure has just put a dampener on their sex life.

The cautious way Nikolai reaches out for him hurts, he's being treated like some scared animal. The large hand on his shoulder does act as a source of comfort when he knows who's behind it. "John, перестань. Talk to me, captain."

"I don't- I don't know, just give me a moment." How long can he spend pleading for just a little more time before Nikolai gets sick of it.

"The belt."

He looks up at the Russian with wide eyes, mouth open as he tries to form a denial of some kind, waiting for words that won't form.

Nikolai stares down at him with a look so gentle he has to look away, he can hear the faint sigh of resignation and the following mutter of something Russian that he isn't paying enough attention to in order to translate it in his head.

He sits in silence as the other man joins him in the bed, leaving a gap between that and offering John the chance to cross it on his own time. He shifts over and plaster himself against his partner's side, face buried in his neck.

"I assumed the scars down your back were from torture, just not the military kind."

"From years ago, don't matter much now do they? Taken a lot worse than a belt since then." His body was covered in scars of varying sizes, from anywhere to the scar on his hand from slicing a bagel to the silver band wrapped around part of his left thigh from a bastard with a blade that damn near nicked an artery. He'd stuck that poor sod's blade through his own throat and left him to gurgle on his blood.

"I assume your father is dead?" The fact that Nikolai sounds hopeful isn't lost on him.

"Drank himself into oblivion years ago." John had always thought it would've been his liver that did him in, would've bet money on it. Would've lost too. The old man had asphyxiated on his own vomit, silly prick.

"Good."