#hiding in the blue; safe between the clouds || IC

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ The cracks are in the mirror as he looks but they aren't shattering through glass. The cracking fault lines that show the way the body is buckling from the weight are rushing over ghost pale skin.

They're getting bigger.

He has tried to be careful. He has tried to be attentive to them but he doesn't like looking at his reflection. He doesn't like looking at the way his own body is chipping and shattering like the most fragile pane that could be turned to nothing but splinters of glass if only someone where to be a tad bit clumsy and drop him.

He can't fall again. If he falls again who knows what will happen when he hits the ground.

A year ago the spot of scarred skin that occupied space on his belly was small enough that he could cover it with his hand but now he can't quite make that claim. Not as a small hand moves to cover the damaged skin and pieces of the continuous price is paying peeks out and and lines stretch out far across his body out from beneath his fingertips.

It hurts to touch. Not in a physical sense but in the way that he knows what this is doing to him. It knows what it means for him and if this one has grown so much in size it makes him wonder how much of his back is covered in the rot.

What else was there to call this?

He hasn't shown it to anyone and he doesn't know how. He doesn't know how to just swallow his pride and - is it pride though? It is pride or is the fear of having to look into ocean deep suns and tell him that he's been wrong the whole time.

The cracks are spreading up now. They're climbing him like vines and he doesn't know how to make them stop. He doesn't know if he can. But on top of all this, he doesn't know how to he's supposed just live with it. How does he do it?

Black Wind's mind is shattered. He's lost his memories but he never lost his culture. He never lost his world. He never lost the core of who he was - just who they were. Just who the face filled with moonlit jade even belonged to. How does he live with it? He knows he's missing something at this point now, so how does he just keep trudging on all while knowing that there was pieces of who he is supposed to be have been shattered out?

He's lost Father's voice. He's lost Mother's songs. He's lost Usva's love Pieces of himself fade away every time a fragment falls. A sliver at a time and he's falling apart. What will he lose next? He's losing fragments of who he is. At least Black Wind can't say that.

He never wants Black Wind to be able to say that and he'll give every shard that is left of himself to make sure it never happens.

There is a sigh as his shoulders drop and he continues to stare in the full length mirror that hangs on the wall before him. It caught it attention. It wasn't always there. He's only managed to pull his pants back on after taking an overly long bath when his eyes were caught by the sight of the reflection looking back at him.

The pathways of his negligence are craved deep into his flesh now and he finds himself sighing again as he continues to fail to pull back on his shirts. Instead he pulls his hand away from his belly, fingers trembling as they reveal the damage beneath.

It's like an infection that's sat within him and eating him slowly from the inside out. That's why he called it rot. His soul is rotting. That damn beast force fed him poison for twelve years and it made damn sure that the last parting gift it left him with was an infection that had no remedy.

There was no antidote this time. He's drank his last vile and he can still feel the venom seeping down his throat. It's set in his lungs and spread in his veins. Nothing could save him now and the only thing he can focus on is the way the scar expands little by little as it follows the path of the shattering lines on his chest.

Almost to his heart now.

His hand trembles still as he reaches for the glass and fingertips barely trace over the smooth surface to follow the reflection of the line that is nearly to his heart. He can't keep going like this. Will it get there in weeks? Days? He doesn't know but it'll be there by the end of the month if something isn't done.

Will it kill him then?

His knees cave as he finds himself sinking to the floor hand still pressed against the glass.

He's out of time. It doesn't matter if he can't look that man in the eyes to tell him how scared he is. He won't make it to the end of the year. There's no way. This infection is spreading too fast. He can't bring himself to believe he'll survive much longer.

He's going to die.

And there's not a damn thing any of them can do to stop it.

[watcher-with-burned-wings]

Hiding in the Blue (Safe Between the Clouds)

(Yo! Rats x Pirates SMP content here folks! Get your fresh crossover here! Starting at Martyn's Finale for Rats)

Every rat had just disappeared into the snow-covered bush to start looking for a new home to settle in. Scott had been behind everyone else, walking beside Martyn. Scott was about to follow but paused, his ear twitching as he turned his head, frowning as he watched Martyn sprinting in the opposite direction. Finding it odd, he glanced back at the bushes. He promised himself he would get Martyn then he would regroup. He set down the food he had and scampered after the snow tracks that Martyn made.

Scott followed the tracks until they led him to a shore of some sort. Scott’s ears twitched as he wondered why Martyn would come here. He spotted Martyn on the ice, looking around it seemed. He was about to call out, but his voice caught in his throat as Martyn seemingly disappeared down a hole in the ice. His tail flicked in annoyance as he hugged his shoulders, shivering slightly, he scurried over to where he disappeared.

He looked into the icy water and took a deep breath before plunging in after the wayward rat. Immediately, his senses heightened as cold filled his body. Squinting his eyes, he could just see the outline of Martyn disappearing down a crack in the seabed. Scott swam after him, diving down the crevice as well. He was startled as he fell into a small cave. Shivering, he could hear Martyn talking to himself as he stepped deeper. He called out, “Martyn! What are you doing?” His eyes widened as reached a larger part of the cave. Covering his mouth with his paws, he stared at the purple portal. A shiver went down his spine as something shifted within him. Martyn stared at him wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be followed, standing directly in front of the portal.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Martyn said, clearly baffled. “Why did you follow me!? You were supposed to be with everyone else.” He exclaimed.

Rubbing his paws together, Scott replied, “I saw you turn away from the group, so I followed you to ask where you were going.” He stared at the portal. “Martyn… What is this?” he asked hesitantly.

Martyn bit his lip, looking conflicted before his gaze hardened. “Scott, go back. I’ll be okay. I know what I am doing.” He turned away from him. “I need to keep going. Goodbye, Scott.” With that, Martyn stepped through the portal, becoming lost in the swirls.

Squeaking with alarm, Scott rushed forward. He scampered to the edge of the now flickering portal. He glanced back towards the entrance, thinking of the other rats. Owen is a great leader, capable and strong. Eloise will help him; she always is willing to do so. Acho will be there if needed, he was always a reasonable rat.  They don’t need him; they will be fine. He looked forward to the portal once again.

He didn’t know what Martyn had gotten himself into, but he was alone. Martyn could be killed or trapped without someone there to help him. He needs to have at least one person looking out for him. He glanced back once more, saying a silent goodbye, before deciding to step through the portal.

A shutter ran through him as the warmth of the portal encased him. He felt himself relaxing in this strange purple existence. The warmth reminded Scott of the human fireplaces within the mansion. He felt his eyelids getting heavy the farther he floated. He thought he could hear whispers and flashes of purple wings and eyes cross his vision, but the call of the void was too strong. He passed out feeling as if someone grabbed him with celestial hands.

=====================

Cold water covered him, shocking him from slumber. Scott flailed for a moment before his head breached the surface of the water. Sputtering and coughing, Scott paddled his way to the dirt shore. He pulled himself out and coughed up the rest of the water that was in his lungs. He sat there, panting for a moment, catching his breath. He peeked backward to find what he had fallen into.

 It was small a pond with a possible stage built into it. His breath caught in his throat in awe as he spotted the cliff and waterfall behind it, along with human-sized pillars leading to the cliff. There was light coming from the shade of the cliff as well. He stood up on shaky legs as he turned a slow circle.

There was so much around him. A large orange tent, a cave with seemingly a kitchen, and a large mess hall area. There was always a path leading to a dock and two more leading in different directions. One heading towards the forest, the other heading towards the cliffs. He spotted a large field of an array of different vegetables, a cow sounded in the distance, so he guessed there was a farm somewhere near there as well. 

He also noted that the weather is different as well. No snow in sight. He felt a warm summer breeze brush through his fur as he stepped away from the pond. His cold body quickly warmed in the tropical weather. His ears twitched a bit, wondering why Martyn didn’t bring everyone here. This is a paradise compared to the snowy wonderland at home. He sighed. He could get answers went he found him again.

He rubbed the extra water off his face before deciding on the kitchen. Knowing Martyn, he might be getting food. The blue-haired rat scurried across the grass; ears perked for any sign of humans. Pausing at the entrance, Scott's ears shot up in excitement. Unlike the cook at home, pots were unsupervised, and ingredients were everywhere. His eyes sparkled at all the possibilities, rubbing his paws together. He hopped up onto the counter and peered into the pot. Dumplings floated lazily in the boiling water. His shoulders slumped as he realized he couldn’t do anything to help.

Suddenly feeling very dumb, he grabbed his face and smacked his cheeks a bit. “Scott. Focus. Cooking later, find Martyn first.” He again looked around, frowning not seeing any signs of another rat going through here. He ran across the counter and was about to scurry down when he heard footsteps approaching.

Scrambling, the blue rat leaped into a backpack that was leaning against the counter. Thinking quickly, he buried himself as deep in as he could, hearing a male human humming a strange song. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as he waited with bated breath. The human moved around, boots clicking against the floor. Scott nearly squeaked as light flooded the backpack but was quickly buried underneath a ton of dumplings. As quickly as the avalanche of dumplings started, it stopped, and darkness consumed the inside of the backpack once again. He let out a relieved breath, thinking it was over.

He squeaked as the pack started to move. He was thrown to the side as the human put the pack on his back. Soon the movement evened out into rhythmic steps of walking. Cautiously, Scott peeked out of the backpack. He looked around him, watching as the forest passed. He was grateful he didn’t choose the forest as he spotted skeletons with bows, eyeing the person he was with up. Gulping, he mentally urged the human to start moving, and miraculously, the guy did, probably having seen the monsters as well. He ducked down and let the human carry him to the unknown.

It was far too short of a ride in Scott’s opinion as the movement around him stopped. He immediately moved to hop out past the human but was dumped into a barrel. He was disoriented from the suddenness of falling. He let out a startled squeal as he was scuffed and lifted. The cyan-furred rat’s mouth went dry when he locked eyes with a gingered-haired human scowling at him.

Magpies around suddenly started cawing and chatting excitedly. They cawed, “Rat Scott! Rat Scott! Why is Rat Scott here? Cute! I miss rats.” The human shooed the crazed birds away, looking rather confused, but didn’t let it bother him. The ginger turned back to him, studying him curiously. Scott shrunk away from the scrutinizing gaze, balling himself up.

“Hmph. Never seen a blue rat before nor one wearing clothes. Perhaps Martyn will know where you came from. Rats seem to gravitate towards him.” Blue eyes bore into Scott, making him tremble, not registering anything he was saying, his blood rushing in his ears was too loud to hear over. “Or if he doesn’t, I could always add you as a discovery. You are rather cute.”

The human placed the rat on his palm and then used both hands to cup him close to his chest. Using a pinky finger, the ginger stroked the trembling figure’s fur, humming a soft tune to soothe the rat. The cyan-haired rat was surprised to find himself relaxing in the gentle grasp of his odd human. For some reason, he could tell this human had no intention of hurting him, feeling as if he was connected to him. Scott shook off the feeling, finally having his breathing under control.

The man smiled down at the rat once he noticed the shaking stop. “There. See? I won’t hurt you, little rat.” He held him a little tighter, not enough to hurt, but just to be snug. “Now, off to find that Kestrel.” The human started walking, making the farmer rat tense ever so slightly.

The destination that the ginger had in mind was a relatively short walk, with the human occasionally petting Scott’s back, keeping him calm. The whole time Scott could only think of where they were going. Sure, the guy said that he wasn’t going to hurt him, but that doesn't mean someone else won’t. He worried his lip, tail in his paws as he thought how he should have just stayed with the group. He bet Owen and the others were worried sick about Martyn and him. He just wanted his family to be together.

Scott’s depressive thoughts were interrupted by the shout of the human. “Martyn! You here?” The ginger called.

The rat’s ears perked up at the mention of the name. Martyn!? He’s here? And he’s friends with this human? Scott looked around the fancy tavern area. He didn’t see the Martyn he knew anywhere. The human walked to the bar and called out again.

There was a loud crash heard through the building. Both rat and human looked alarmed before a blond-haired male human rounded the corner, looking frazzled. Following him was a mischief of rats, squealing and squeaking to each other pleasantly. When the blond saw the ginger human, he perked up a bit. “Oh hey, Mr. Denholm. Sorry, I was taking a nap when you called.” The guy smiled at the ginger with a slight blush.

To say Scott was shocked was an understatement. The human sounded and acted just like his Martyn, but he wasn’t! He was not a rat. This was a complete human being. He looked almost the same, the only difference was the small scar under his eye. He had his headband and everything.

“That’s fine, Martyn. And please, just Scott. That’s my father,” The ginger replied with a smile. The rat looked up at the human holding him in disbelief. They share the same name!  I mean Scott isn’t a rare name but it’s odd when there is a human that looks just like your friend and the human holding you looks like you but with ginger hair. “But anyway, have you lost any of your rats recently?”

Martyn looks confused for a moment, “No? I don’t think so anyway. Why?” He questioned.

Scott jolted as he was presented to the human version of his friend. He looked up at the blond in distress as he gripped his tail. He watched as Martyn’s eyes grew wider at the sight of him, stumbling back a little bit.

The rats below started to squeak, “Rat Scott? Didn’t we leave him with the others? Lore? Crossover?” Martyn, in a similar fashion to what human Scott did to his magpies, chased them off.

“Scott, where did you find this rat?” Martyn asked slowly as he approached cautiously. Scott’s ears drooped at the hesitance of his friend.

“I found him in my dumpling barrel,” The ginger gently stroked his spine with a finger making him relax again. “I think he was in my backpack, and I buried him by accident. I was hoping you would recognize him, or if you didn’t, I would make a little encloser for him, as I had never seen a pure blue rat.” Human Scott looked at Martyn sheepishly.

Martyn looked at him and then back to the ginger, clearly conflicted about something. He sighed, rubbing his face then mumbled, “Yes, I recognize this little rat. The thing is, he shouldn’t be here.” Martyn glared at him sharply. Scott shrank under the gaze, avoiding eye contact. He knew Martyn could be intimidating, but at his current size, it was downright horrifying. “Here, I’ll take him.” He extended his hands toward him.

The ginger deflated a little bit. “Oh. Well okay. Take good care of him. He seems like a nice little rat.” Scott scampered out of Human Scott’s hands into Martyn’s awaiting ones. Martyn pressed him close to his chest once he was settled in his hands. “Maybe I can see him again soon?”

Martyn nodded absently, “Yeah, sure.” Martyn was looking Scott over in his hands, checking around him and his body. He seemed relieved once he was done, looking back at human Scott. “Thank you for bringing him to me, Scott. I’ll see you later. I need to take care of him.”

“Alright. Bye-bye, little blue rat. Hope to see you soon!” He smiled at the cyan-haired rat before heading off. Martyn waited for a beat before being him and setting him on the counter.

“Alright now that he’s gone, how are you here?!” Martyn raised his voice at him, gripping his hair. “I told you that I would be okay! And how did you get through the portal anyway!? You were supposed to stay in that world! I don’t understand how an NPC could escape its world.” He mumbled the last part to himself as he paced in front of Scott.

“I just was worried about you. You gave me a scare seeing you running away from everyone else! I didn’t want you hurt!” Scott cried. Martyn turned to him, staring at him in complete confusion.

“Well damn. I can’t understand you now. You are just making squeaks for me,” He rubbed his temple. “Well, I guess you being here doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t think I can even get you home if I want to.”

Scott's eyes widened and he squeaked in distress. He began pacing, tugging his ears. What would become of every rat? How would they survive winter without him? They didn’t know anything about being a wild rat. Many were house or city rats. His breathing was picking up as he continued to panic. A sudden large hand on his back made him jump.

Martyn winced, “Sorry about that but you looked like you were about to go into a panic attack.” Martyn gave him a sad expression. “I’m sorry about our friends but I can’t do anything to get back to them.”

Tears gathered in Scott’s eyes as he started to cry. Martyn scooped him up and pressed him into his shirt, soothing him gently with a back rub. He buried his face into the fine cotton of Martyn’s shirt as he clung to him.

Martyn smiled weakly and said, “If it's any consolation, you will like being here. I’ll take care of you and the herons have a lovely field of vegetables.” He rambles on. “And Scott, the guy you just met, loves to cook. You can spend time around there. Heck, maybe you’ll be classified as a discovery by Scott.” The blond scrunched up his face. “That’s going to get confusing. Two Scott’s around here now.” He laughed slightly.

The blue rat sniffled a bit but nodded along with Martyn’s ramble. He wiped his eyes and gave Martyn a watery smile. He’s glad he at least has someone from home, and who knows, maybe he’ll meet more friendly people. Martyn petted his head gently with a kind smile and wiped away the last of his tears.

“There’s the farmer rat I know.” Martyn grinned. “Again, I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in this, Scott. But I will always protect you.” He promised.

And Scott believed him. He will always believe that Martyn will protect him. Scott will do the same for him. He’ll face anything this new world threatens to throw at him to help Martyn. Scott snuggled closer and hugged Martyn tightly. Martyn covered him with his hand protectively, lovingly.

[volumina-vetustiora]

can't lie the next chapter of Disco Nirn barely exists at the moment, but I do have my take on the Shivers Rain Bubble (idk what to call it, you know the one) below the cut:

YOU - What now?

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - You shiver. Even standing in the sun, the cold that permeates the air is undeniable.

SHIVERS - The land stretches out before your eyes, ending in a misty blue horizon. After the stifling closeness of the cave, the outside world seems to extend terrifyingly far in every direction.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] - As if to make the tiny speck that is you seem as small as possible.

YOU - What is in the west?

SHIVERS - An evergreen forest criss-crossed with hunting trails and paths. The smell of wet earth and the distant beat of flighty hooves. The city of Falkreath watches over the verdant expanse like a proud sentry.

INLAND EMPIRE [Trivial: Success] - Who hides in the shadowed places? What eyes look back?

YOU - And beyond?

SHIVERS - Twisting trees cling to the rocks that jut out over the Karth River. In the mountains, a city of stone, older than its name.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - Steam sputters. The Sleepless sleep.

YOU - Over the mountains…

SHIVERS - Rain clouds gather over the rolling hills of High Rock. Tall, isolated towers pick out the shape of the coast. 

YOU - What is there?

SHIVERS - The past. 20 years ago, and 200.

YOU - What's in the east?

SHIVERS - The tallest mountain in the world digs its roots into the ground. At its peak, an endless snowstorm rages, whipping the ancient cliffs with frost.

YOU - Down the valley…

SHIVERS - Bone-white boughs sway. The whole forest bristles with orange leaves, as if on fire. They call it the Rift.

YOU - And after that?

SHIVERS - You follow your mind’s eye further to the east, to Morrowind. What should be snow-white here is grey with ash.

YOU - What is in the north?

SHIVERS - The golden plains of Whiterun Hold sway softly with grass. In their middle, a great city. At the upper districts, the wind blows harsher as the wooden palace softly creaks.

YOU - Go further north.

SHIVERS - Snow coats the land, all the way to the shore. The Pale is unkind to travelers, those that still take these neglected roads.

YOU - Further.

SHIVERS - The icebergs off the coast are the teeth of a great maw, the Sea of Ghosts. There is nothing more that way, not now.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: Success] - Don't even look for it.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - The ice entombs the heart.

YOU - What's in the south?

SHIVERS - The Jerral Mountains separate the rebellious province from its master. The few safe paths are guarded – the curtains of war have been drawn between the peaks.

YOU - What is over the mountains?

SHIVERS - Cyrodiil, the Imperial Province. It is the centre of the continent – geographically, and in all other ways. Here was born the army that conquered the world.

YOU - And the centre of the centre?

SHIVERS - At the Heartlands’ heart is a bustling metropolis, the Imperial City – all manner of sights, smells, languages, and insults fill its streets. A shining tower, as if fashioned from ivory and gold, rises out of the sprawling mass, at once ancient and timeless.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - It is a synonym of empire.

SHIVERS - THE WHITE TOWER FELL. THE HEIR WAS LOST.

YOU - What am I doing here?

SHIVERS - You are standing at the mouth of a cave, staring out at the world as if for the first time.

YOU - Why?

SHIVERS - Because you have yet to take a step forward.

YOU - What's below?

SHIVERS - The ground feels hard and unyielding under your feet, but beneath, somewhere, there are great, winding systems of caves – much larger than the one you were just in.

YOU - What's above?

SHIVERS - The crisp morning sky offers you no clouds of protection against the vastness of the great blue. The firmament looks back down at you.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Sky above, voice within.

YOU - “Motherfucker.”

+5 XP: Gained experience

RALOF (BLOND BRAID GUY) - “What was that?”

SHIVERS - A whisper on the wind, all but forgotten.

[throatcoat]

//chapter 7// //dear laurie allen//

i am crumpled on my floor amongst the laundry heaps, and there is fruity pebbles stuck in my hair. my head aches, and the bottle is empty. i can not remember even taking a sip. all i can smell is the saltwater vomit in my nose. the tape deck has released, the speakers crackling, and i swear i can hear my name amongst the empty transmission waves. groaning, i turn on my back, and stare at my ceiling. there is a crack there, it matches the one in my childhood bedroom. i wonder if the same earth quake caused this one, too, i wonder if we are on the same fault line.

slinking out to the kitchen, i squint my eyes closed. the morning sun is blinding. the coffee in the pot is lukewarm, and the handle on my mug is broken. opening up the sliding glass door, i step out in the cold mist of the pacific west coast. between gulps of coffee and lungs filled with smoke, i am looking at mt. rainier hidden between rain clouds. this place has never felt like home, not to me anyways. home was some place different, untouched by the mold on a windowsill.

before my little sister was born, i lived in a different town, nestled closer to the mountains of canada, away from the valley. closer to the Fire-camp, it was a tiny place, no more than 100 population. it is made up of the chapel, an old tavern, a gas station with the best charleston chews, and the post office with only one post-master. the house we lived in was blue and the yard was covered in wildflowers, in daisies, there was an apricot tree right next to the maple that housed a held-up-by-twine homemade baby swing. my grandparents lived up the hill, in a 100 year old school house made of cold concrete. If you look near the clear blue lake, you can see the look-out i used to dream climbing up. Old Ruby Mine lies just a couple miles further, and now no one looks for gold in the creek anymore. my earliest memories lie here, the sweetest ones. This ghost town, it might as well be a holy land.

my grandparents used to watch me while my mom and dad went off to work. pops would make me vegetable soup made with their summer crops, i would hide in the clawfoot bathtub and sing softly to my grandmother's porcelain dolls, my cousins would hold my hand as we walked down to the gas station for an ice cold soda pop. the air always smelled like moss, the sap leaking from the pine trees, the wet soil of the lake. it smelled like daffodils and chimney smoke. it smelled a little like happiness. I'd sit in the grass, making clover chains and watching the rabbits sprint into the woods. it felt safe here. ghosts refused to step foot here.

sometimes, i wonder where it all went wrong, if there were ever warning signs of the mudslide, was there a flash flood? I realize my eyes are closed now, no longer looking at the volcanic giant in the distance. the coffee is cold as the mist and it seeps into my bones. the colder i get, maybe the more it will feel like home. there is a crane sitting in the bay, looking for fish and it reminds me of the herons that would dip into palmer lake. the night prior i spent drinking, looking for answers, and now, some how the salt waters seep into the fresh glacier lakes and i am no longer here in the sleepy sea side town.

i still have a scar on my tongue from when i almost bit right through it. i was a stubborn child, and although my mother told me not to try to walk down the cement stairs alone, i did it anyways. i wanted an apricot. i do not remember stumbling, i remember my mother yelling for my father, the first time i ever tasted blood in my mouth. she picked me up and held me close and it was the last time i ever felt remotely loved by my mom. she only seems to love me most when she is scared. even now, over twenty years later, that first time ever falling sticks to my brain, the way my mom looked. the same look she had when my dad fell off the ladder and convulsed on the ground.

we ended up moving down to the valley after that, my mom pregnant, wanting to be closer to the hospital, closer to where there were more people than just the fishermen at the bar, truckers at the gas station, and folk just passing through. we ended up in the yellow house by the highway, the one we would stay in until i was 16 years old. although it was not the chilly mountains, i would grow to love the desert just as much as the snow. often, i would give anything to be back there, now i do not think anyone would be able to name me, recognize me. maybe it could be safe again. at least it is always familiar.

the town we ended up in was the same place i had been born, right in the hospital on main street. my parents had both spent a portion of their childhoods here, too, at different moments. always within reach of one another, never in sight. they thought it would be the perfect place to also raise their two daughters, familiar. safe. it used to be, at least.

the valley was on fire the last summer i spent there. 256,108 acres in total, it was a massive wildfire turned complex, caused by lightning and just the right conditions. carlton led my town to be under evacuation orders and i watched on the side of the highway as person after person flew past in their pickup trucks. if you stepped outside, the smoke choked you. i stayed as the fire burnt through, scorching the abandoned orchard behind our house. if you kept walking up the dirt road behind the apple tree stumps, you will find a small village filled with folk in plain clothes, mennonites who claimed their own stake a century past. i wondered if they stayed, too, if their prayers worked, or if it felt like punishment, all brimstone and sulfur.

it felt fitting, that the last remnants of me existing in the place i always knew would end like this- burnt up, dried out, and abandoned. i took a deep breath and the ash in the air choked me. i walked down the highway, opposite of where all the cars were headed. following the traintracks, you will end up near an apple processing plant, a small one. it smells like wine and wet cardboard. this is where my first field trip took place, right before we walked to the library. keep walking, and you'll find empty crates stacked up, blocking the entrance to history park. i lost my first tooth there, in that park. i buried it beneath the elm tree, near the swing set.

the park was where i was headed, even without intention. the can of grape soda was sweating against my hand, slowly slipping each time i lift to take a sip. there is one person there, other than that i was alone. i sat at the wooden bench where my friends and i had carved our names once in middle school, and it was the same bench i smoked my first joint at. i always found myself here, at this bench, when i needed some place quiet to think. i sat watching the kid shooting hoops, practicing dribbles like our town was not on fire, like he had no place to go and had all the time in the world. the pool was closed, abnormally silent for a scorching july day. the only sounds were the okanogan river and the dribbling of the basketball. the birds had all left.

i lifted the can only to find i had finished it already. i took out my pocket knife and carved into the wooden table, right beside the initials we had left years prior. a crooked heart. sloppily, i carved three words. i carved my own name. sometimes, i wonder if it is still there, the heart with my name. did someone cross it out? scratch it and replace it with a better name? my cellphone began ringing out, and it is my mother on the other end, asking where i am.

i hung up, slam the phone shut, and laid my head on the warm wood. all i wanted in that moment was to sink into the earth, buried right next to my lost baby tooth.

sometimes, when i close my eyes, i am back there, in that park, under the layers of grass and mud and the indian burial ground.

[sovereign-spaw]

Thank you!!! @dekarios for the tag!!

Animals

Fafern Tiliqua rugosas, swans, gray wolves, albatrosses, deer, coyotes, butterflies, maggots

Odret Penguins, pigeons, turtles, tardigrades, spiders, moths, roaches, bloodhound

Duchess Nightingales, boars, lions, hyenas, killer whales, narwhals, squids

Colors

Fafern Blue, white, gold

Odret Black, purple, red

Duchess Blue, gold, red

Month

Fafern December, March

Odret August, May

Duchess July, January

Songs

Fafern Ghost in the rain, rises the moon, I think I love you, the horror and the wild, heart of stone, heart of steel, I am the winter, gales of song, blind and frozen, safe ship harbored, where is your rider, family jewels

Odret Ocean deep, beneath the brine, lend me your voice, buckled knees, nothing good, fragile things, dirty paws, the fire, pale white horse, this will end, le seine and I, never love an anchor

Duchess Farewell to the crown, tarviin vielä yhden yön aikaa, if I were, hello my old heart, thus always to tyrants, the call, the garden, tongues and teeth, feed me with your heart, everything at once, ship in a bottle, syntisten pöytä

Number

Fafern 43358

Odret 13433

Duchess 13324

Plants

Fafern Spruce, showy stonecrop, dahlia, blackberry

Odret Birch, heliotrope, daffodil, cranberries

Duchess Oak, nettle, dandelion, holly berry

Scents

Fafern Dirt, moss, clay

Odret Hyacinths, burned sugar, hint of sweetness

Duchess Smoke, copper, sulfur

Gemstone

Fafern Cerussite, sapphire, garnet

Odret Amethyst, kunzite, moonstone

Duchess Onyx, sunstone, moissanite

Time of day

Fafern The blue hour

Odret Dusk

Duchess Sunrise

Season

Fafern Fall

Odret Winter

Duchess Spring

Places

Fafern Caves, the small crevices between rocks, somewhere dark and cold, somewhere impenetrable, somewhere safe

Odret Somewhere lonesome yet not abandoned, warm and safe yet not home, somewhere he could feel her again, someplace where he could keep them safe

Duchess Beneath the open sky, boundless field filled with harebells, someplace that only she could find, with a path only he could follow

Food

Fafern Meat the slightly tastes of rot, served with tangy mushrooms and salt of her tears

Odret The same thing she tastes, but he craves for a berry pie made with fresh ingredients

Duchess Something quick to make and light as to make sure she can easily run, should the need arise

Drinks

Fafern Water that drips down the stalactites, better this than the poison that runs through the river

Odret He needs nothing, knowing that she has fresh water

Duchess Rich wine, it tastes awful, but satisfaction come from quenched thirst, it comes from knowing she’s taking something away from him

Element

Fafern Zirconium

Odret Hafnium

Duchess Carbon

Seasonings

Fafern Rosemary, ginger, dill

Odret Poppy seeds, cinnamon, nutmeg

Duchess Saffron, cayenne pepper, turmeric

Sky

Fafern A freezing, cloudless winter night, maybe there will be northern lights

Odret When both the sun and the moon are visible, with a few clouds in the sky

Duchess Dark, looming clouds rushing with the wind, it’ll rain soon

Weather

Fafern A winter day, but the weather is starting to warm up

Odret Cold spring day, few weeks after the last snow had melted

Duchess Stormy day when the wind blows and lightning strikes the ground

Magical powers

Fafern Ice so cold it’ll freeze any in an instant, and a gale so frigid none dare to harm those it chooses to shield

Odret A shadow that shrouds and hides all from prying eyes, let no one see the danger that approaches, or the help that is coming

Duchess A song so irresistible all will join hand in hand to dance to its tune till their shoes shred and they fall to the ground from exhaustion

Weapons

Fafern The very water that travels through everyone

Odret Shadows, and the scythe of a hooked horror

Duchess The lyre she plays can bring as much pain as it brings joy

Candy/Sweets

Fafern Black and red licorice, candied cherries

Odret Rock candy, sweethearts

Duchess Dark chocolate, sour lollipops

Method of long distance travel

Fafern Creating an ice horse and using that as a steed

Odret Walking

Duchess Charming someone into carrying her

Art style

Fafern Finger painted, reminiscent of cave art

Odret Rough, sharp lines, as if chiseled into stone

Duchess Flowing and free, as if drawn to the tune of a pleasant song

Fears

Fafern Being abandoned, being misunderstood. Afraid of not seeing him again, afraid of the day when it’ll be too late, yet too scared to go back and face the consequences of her own actions, fears they forgets once he’s endangered

Odret That he won’t see her again, of time running out, her reaction, the sun, dying again, wasting the chance he's been given

Duchess Of not being enough, being weak, his victory, failing, the contracts

Mythological creature

Fafern Tuonelan joutsen

Odret Iku-Tihku

Duchess Vörðr

Piece of stationery

Fafern Pinned bugs, magnets

Odret Chisels, ice picks

Duchess Notebooks, matches

Three emojis

Fafern ❄️🔥🕧

Odret 🩻🧊🔥

Duchess 🎶👁️😶

Celestial body

Fafern Wandering planet

Odret A comet

Duchess Pulsar planet

[mhysa-leesi]

𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐻𝑜𝑜𝒹

Pairing: Dark Alpha!Bucky Barnes 𝒳 (femme) Omega!Reader 🐺. 

Summary: “To keep your small village protected from would-be attackers, presented Omegas must be sacrificed to the mysterious Alpha in the woods.” 

Word Count: 3,514

TW‼: Non-Con, Dub-Con, Smut, Hunting/Stalking, A/B/O Themes, Forced Bonding, Loss of Virginity, Strong Language, and Mentions of Blood and Human Sacrifice. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI‼ 

AN: This story contains adult and dark themes, please do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! I am not responsible for your media consumption--you and only you are. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

AN Cont.: If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help. I do not condone ANY of the actions described in this story, this is merely a work of FICTION. 

A cold wind blew in from the north, making the trees rustle like living things. It was growing colder with every passing day as winter began its arrival. Yule had transformed the fiery hues of autumn twilight to sparkled, frosted mornings and bitter winds. You went to the window. A fine glimmer of glossy frost formed intricate swirls on the glass, as sparkling snow softened the outside world into one flurry. 

You looked on as the pale, cold light of winter moonrise illuminated your village as the townsfolk worked under the stars to prepare for the Winter Solstice. You couldn’t help but frown as you watched them place green garland on the fringes of rooftops, and light candles that led into the dark forest, in the shape of carved wolves. This time last winter, you were home with your family; sitting fireside as you and your younger siblings drank sweetened milk and almond honeyed toast. Life had been colorful, full of vibrant greens, warm reds, and soft dusky blues. Now, it was nothing but a black and white night of frost that crawled along the dark outline of barren trees and twig branches. Snowflakes swirled down gently in the ghostly moonlight, and iced shadows crept along the December ground. 

“(Y/N)?” a small voice called out from behind. 

You turned as Gervaise came to stand next to you, peering out at the snowfall that drifted against the window. Gervaise had been your closest friend since childhood, she had been a plump girl in her youth, but now she was the most beautiful woman in your village. She had long legs that complemented her slender figure, golden hair that shone under sunlight, and azure eyes as blue and clear as the sky itself. 

She shivered against the winter-cold that seeped into your bones as she neared the frosted windowpane, “Aren’t you cold?” she asked. 

You scoffed, “Warmer than I would be out there.” 

Truth be told, you were burning from the inside out. A sheen sweat had started to form between your breasts and all of your folds and creases. Gervaise scooted closer and you unthinkingly flinched away, her heat was rolling off of her in waves and the strong scent of her made you lightheaded as tangs of jasmine, rose, and orange blossom overwhelmed your senses. 

You moved away as you looked into the room you were being kept in. Women close in age all slept soundly with soft snores, their heated scents interlacing with one another to form a jumbled mess of musk, amber, bergamot, and warm sugar. It was a synchronous heat amongst the presented Omegas in preparations for the village’s annual sacrificial solstice to the White Wolf. 

Gervaise nudged your shoulder teasingly, “It won’t be so bad tomorrow, (Y/N),” she tried. 

You rolled your eyes, “We’re being sacrificed, Gervaise! How can it not be so bad?”

Her small smile fell as the weighted truth of your words settled on her shoulders, “I’m sorry… I was just trying to make light of it all.” 

“I know,” you sighed, “You can’t make light of this, there’s too much darkness.” 

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You awoke hours later to the soft murmurs of falling tears as mothers dressed their daughters in traditional white hoods. White, the color of purity, innocence. You scoffed--the virgin’s color. Your own mother came to your bedside, a hood in hand and an expectant look in her eyes. You rubbed your cold feet together and reluctantly dressed. 

“It’s not as bad as it seems, my love,” she spoke as she combed your hair. 

You looked at the other Omegas in the room, most of whom you’ve grown up with. Idony, Meliora, and Sabine. You teared. You and your siblings used to play with Sabine as children. Idony taught you to weave dolls out of straw and vines. And you and Meliora would harvest wild strawberries together in early summer after long hours at the lake. The thought of never seeing either of them after today was heart-wrenching. 

Your mother placed the hood over your head and tucked away stray hairs behind your ears as she took one last, tearful, look at you. She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and took your hands in hers, pressing a small vial against your palms. 

“Put this on once you’re away from the others,” she whispered against your hair, “It’ll hide your scent for a short time, then make your way across the stream, you’ll be safe there until the ceremony is over.” 

Before you could ask more, the village mayor entered and ordered you and the other Omegas out into the square. The ceremony had officially begun. 

Gervaise squeezed your hand as the mayor lit the great Yule log, the candles sculpted as white wolves. You looked around; Idony was pale in the face, Meliora shed silent tears as she held her hands in prayer, and Sabine’s chest rose and fell in shallow, frightened breaths. You held the vial tight in your hand as you stood stoic; though your pounding heart told another story. 

The bells of the church began to toll as midnight quickly approached. The first toll the mayor led you all down the candlelit path that led into the mouth of the forest, the second toll you and the other Omegas were left alone as the full moon shone down on you from above, the third toll was followed by an echoed howl and the beats of your feet as you all ran through the thicket. 

You ran and ran until it was only you, the full moon, and the trees. You stopped to rest against a frosted tree, your lungs burned with biting ice as you panted; your breaths coming out as vapored clouds that wisped around your head. You quickly took the vial and rubbed the liquid over your scent glands. The synthetic scent of cracked pepper, spiced ginger, decayed pear, and rotting leaves all toiled together to mask your natural, sweet and warm odor. You took a moment to calm your beating heart and collect your thoughts before bolting through the treeline. You needed to find Gervaise before the perfume wore off. 

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Bucky watched from the shadows as he tracked a pretty, golden-haired Omega. Her scent wasn’t unpleasant, but it didn’t ignite a fire deep within his groin, either. He followed the floral scent trail of this next best woman as she wandered aimlessly through the dense grove of pine. The woman’s face was rosy and tear-stained as the cold bit her cheeks and nose. It was pathetic, really. How she sniffled and hiccupped as she held herself against the winter winds or when she tripped and slipped over iced snowdrifts. Bucky was about to make his move when a sweet scent, carried on an icy breeze, caught his attention. The blood in his veins burst into flames as a deep desire awoke in him. Primal lust took over as he abandoned his former prey to hunt for the next. He bounded through the woods, ducking under long branches, and leaping across overgrown oak roots. It was the wildness of it that sent Bucky into a feral frenzy, in all of his years protecting this paltry village, he’d never scented anything as sweet and enthralling as this. Spun sugar, vanilla bean, patchouli, and white pumpkin with caramel glaze. His teeth ached as he took in the sweetness of your scent. 

When Bucky finally found you, you were breathless and flushed with heat. Your hand on your stomach as a wave of tightness in your belly coiled and coiled. He scented the air, then. Groaning as he caught wind of your musky-sweet tang. The front of his buckskin breeches tightened uncomfortably as his rut took hold of his body. He wanted you, so he’d have you. 

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You whimpered as your cramps inflamed your insides. You were on fire, despite the bitter winter cold. You shed your wolf pelt that hung over your shoulders and loosened the front laces of your bodice, as you slumped against the nearest tree and focused on slowing your racing heart. The faster you calmed down, the faster you’d be able to find Gervaise and get across that damned stream to safety. 

Just as your heart began to slow, a heady scent brought on iced winds set it back into panicked motion. An amber woody fragrance, with nutmeg, vanilla, and sandalwood ensnared your forebrain. You were frozen, scared like a hunted doe as you took in the masculine scent that seemed to scream “Alpha”. 

Bucky watched as you looked around, trying to pinpoint his hiding spot. His heart skipped a beat in excitement as you took off into the thicket, leaving your pelt behind on the snowy ground. He chased you, then. Too focused on the hunt to worry about cornering you, too focused on you. He’d chase you down until you fainted from exhaustion if he had to. 

You were faster than he expected, more agile and hellbent on escaping him than you had appeared to be. He felt an odd sense of pride as he watched you nimbly dodge and duck under and over every branch and uprooted oak that came into your way. But Bucky had the advantage, this was his territory, not yours. He knew his hunting grounds, not you. So when you came to a skidded stop at a broken bridge, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. But what did surprise him was the little snarl that left you before you broke away from him once more. 

You ran and ran until your feet were numb with cold and your lungs frosted over with every breath you took. He was close, too close, and you were forced to abandon the plan on crossing the stream to safety. Gods--you didn’t even know where you were anymore. You could be going in circles and you’d be none the wiser, everything looked the same in this untouched part of the wood. You berated yourself for straying from the path, now you were lost, alone, and being hunted. You began to cry as you thought of your fate, you didn’t want to be sacrificed, you just wanted to go home back to your family. Back to your life. 

You were ready to give up, your feet were tired, legs weakened, and your chest burned from the cold. You fell to your knees and looked up to the full moon, exhaustion taking over your thoughts. You were desperate and didn’t have the energy to be surprised at yourself when you began to pray to the moon above. 

“Gods above… Please, please, let me live and I’ll devote myself to you. My heart, mind, soul, and body, please,” you prayed. 

Just as you were about to laugh at yourself for your foolishness, a flickering candlelight in the nearby distance caught your eye. You mindlessly followed the light that pierced through the dense darkness of night, like a moth to a flame. As you got closer, you saw the lantern-light belonged to a small cottage fringed with winterberries and garland. You were uplifted as you believed the gods had answered your prayer. Without a second thought, your feet began to move on their own through the snow as you raced toward the home. You knocked once, then twice, then thrice. When there was no answer, you apologized to whatever being had heard you pray, before turning the brass doorknob and welcoming yourself inside. 

The warmth of a crackling fire embraced you posthaste as you closed the door behind you. You made your way to the fireplace, rubbing your hands over the flame as you warmed yourself. The house was eerily silent as you looked around. You saw the carved candles from your village on the mantelpiece, vases of starry blue, pale pink, and white glory of the snow, and bright yellow winter jasmine were placed on the tabletops, and garland with holly flowers was wrapped around the railing of a small staircase that led upstairs. You made your way up the stairs as curiosity led you on. You called out for the owner of the home once again as you reached the top, but to no avail; the house was empty. 

You crept along the creaking floorboards into a small room, illuminated by a single lantern with frosted glass windows. You explored the room. There was a bed, with an oak headboard, and thick, grey, and brown wolf and bear pelts. You sat down on the edge of the bed with a soft bounce as you rested your tired feet. Ahead of you was a wooden chest with intricate images of Yule logs, goats, and boars. Something deep within your gut urges you to go to it, to open it, and look upon its secrets; but the feeling made you uneasy, it made you afraid of what you'd find. 

But you knew better than to ignore your gut, so you went to it, opened it, and looked upon its secrets. You nearly screamed as you pulled forth white hood, after white hood, after white hood. Your hands shook as you emptied the chest, white hoods covered the ground like the snow outside. There were more hoods than you could count, most of them much older than you. You sobbed as you slammed the chest shut, too focused on the white hoods before you to notice the slithering notes of amber, nutmeg, vanilla, and sandalwood that now threatened to constrict, and swallow you whole. 

Your body sensed him before your mind did, your hairs stood on end, and your core tightened with primal, animalistic want. You only recognized his imposing presence after it was too late. Your throat dried as you slowly turned around to face the Alpha from the woods. He stood in the doorway, shirtless and steaming, as his heat fought against the cold of winter. To say he was big, would be an understatement. He was wordless as he strode toward you with an urgency driven by desire. You shuffled away, sobbing as he quickly crawled atop of you, trapping you beneath him. You fought against him, slapping and scratching his chest and face as he buried his face in your neck. Deeply inhaling your sickly sweet scent. 

“I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell, ‘Mega,” he said as he nipped the lobe of your ear. 

Your heart dropped as he ripped at your bodice like an animal, tossing the ruined fabric aside as he bared your breasts to the air. The Alpha brushed his lips against your neck, your jaw, and mouth as he tasted you. You had never been kissed before, the feeling of it all was foreign as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You squirmed as he palmed your breast, his thumb flicking and pinching over your sensitive nipple. Bucky let out a low snarl of disapproval as you tried to wriggle away from him, and when you ignored his warning, he bit down on your nipple. You yelped and beat against his back, clawing and punching as you flailed and thrashed. In your struggle you managed to slip out from underneath his body. Then, it was a desperate fight of him dragging you by your ankles, and you kicking wildly and blindly. With luck you landed a strong kick to his face that bloodied his nose. You ran, then. Practically flying down the flight of stairs as you made a beeline for the front door--to your freedom. You felt the cold snow on your toes as one foot met the icy ground, but the other foot was caught. 

You fell on your face as Bucky dragged you back into his house. Blood stained his face and a dangerous fire was reflected in his blue eyes. He took you by your neck and forced you down onto the staircase, entrapping you under his weight. Your legs kicked out as he forced himself between your thighs, he snarled again, keeping a tight grip on the back of your neck. He ripped away the remaining pieces of your clothes, ridding you of the white garments, of your innocence, your purity.

He lifted your hips and placed a strong hand on your back, forcing you into an arch. You yipped as you felt a wet warmth lick up your sex. You tried to curl away, but his grip on you was strong and firm. A heat bloomed within your gut as Bucky dipped his tongue between your wet folds, fucking you with his hot tongue. Your brain hazed over as he stroked and rubbed your sweet spot of concentrated pleasure with his thumb. He was devouring you, and you felt your resolve melt away with every delicious flick and swipe of his tongue. You moaned and allowed yourself to arch into his mouth, desperately seeking more pleasure. You ground your cunt on his face and moaned at the feeling of him tightly gripping your hips as he gave you what you wanted--needed. 

You clawed at the stairs beneath you as your voice grew shrill, the coil in your belly was beginning to unravel with every lick. Bucky felt you stiffen as he brought you to the edge of your pleasure, he sank his tongue deep inside you until he finally felt you shudder hard against him. You cried out as you came on his tongue, pure white fire ignited in your veins, consuming your thoughts, and burning away any fight you had left. The aftershocks of your pleasure left you shaking and wanting. 

Without warning, Bucky buried his thick length in you with one hard stroke; mercilessly tearing through your untouched barrier. For a moment there was only a burning pain as he forced himself deeper. He pulled out a few inches, and then slammed back into you. Again and again. The Alpha above you howled with pleasure as he rutted into you hard and fast. You looked over your shoulder and moaned as you watched his narrow hips thrust against you. His eyes met yours and he bared his teeth as he indulged in his animalistic pleasure. With your mouth agape you felt another spark of pleasure ignite within you, you cried out for him, then, begging him to stoke the fire that threatened to burn, to consume you. 

Your scents bled together, creating the beginning knot of your bond; his sandalwood and vanilla notes, duetting your patchouli and caramel glaze in perfect harmony. You whined as he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and clenching. He flipped you onto your back, spreading your weak legs wide as he entered you once more. He reached places that had you blaspheming as you chanted his title like a prayer. 

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha… 

He added fuel to your evergrowing fire as he reached down to your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles as he fucked into your wet cunt. He kissed you again, your lips following his lead as he claimed your mouth with his tongue. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him. His lips trailed down your jaw, peppering wet kisses down your body until he reached the scent gland on your neck. He scented you, then. A low growl left his chest as the base of his cock swelled, your pussy constricting in turn. Your howling moans clashed in dissonance as he pushed you over the edge into white-hot pleasure. Bucky thrusted into you, harder, faster, as his pleasure grew and grew until it finally exploded. As his warmth flooded you another sensation sent your senses into hyperdrive--his teeth sinking into your neck. Your arms and legs instinctively wrapped around him as he bonded you, marking you as his. 

You murmured incoherently as your bodies locked together, you were so full of him that you could focus on nothing, but the feel of him locked inside you. Your head lolled to the side as your exhaustion set in, your bones felt heavy as sleep lulled you. You were vaguely aware of the man atop of you, too drunk on mated pleasure to fully acknowledge how his eyes began to once again devour your body. 

He kissed your wound, breathing you in as he did, “What’s your name, Omega?”

“(Y/N),” you rasped. 

“Bucky,” 

As you sobered, the weight of your situation became clearer. All of those white hoods, all of those Omegas that never returned home… Your breathing picked up as panic sparked like lightning in your veins. You shoved on Bucky’s chest as you started to wiggle out from him, tugging on his knot. He snarled and snapped at you and you flinched as unshed tears glossed your eyes. 

“Don’t hurt me, please,” you whimpered, “Please, I–I don’t want to die.” 

“I’m not going to kill you, I’m going to keep you,” 

Keep you? You trembled, “What about all of the other Omegas? What happened to them?” 

He cupped your face and traced the bridge of your nose, then the cupid’s bow of your lips, “Them I killed,” he whispered with a ghost of a smile. 

[earlgreydream]

injured.

| stucky x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. After so many pleads for Y/N to stay home and be safe away from the mission; she still goes on that solo mission. However, when an injury occurs, she fears that Steve and Bucky will forbid/get mad at her for going. So she tries to hide it. However, when lust take over the same night she comes home; shower sex is in play between her lovers and her. And during all that, Steve and Bucky find the injury on her body and question it. Yet all Y/N wants to do is finish what they had started... yet to bad, having overprotective boyfriends are just what she has.

cw: mentions of violence, injury

“Shit,” you limped onto your jet, nearly collapsing to your knees on the floor.

The glass was cold and unforgiving, and you struggled to inhale, black bruises forming on your side. A sharp pain shot through your chest when you took a breath, and you wondered if your ribs were fractured, otherwise deeply bruised.

You hit the autopilot, sighing as the jet lifted and set for home. You laid back on the floor, unconsciousness clouding your mind. You fought it off, trying to keep your eyes open and focusing on breathing.

.

“Don’t go, Y/N. It’s a solo, Stark can send someone else,” Steve argued with you, knowing the dangers of sending you alone to Sokovian ruins to retrieve intel.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be perfectly fine. I go on team missions all the time, and this is just intel. You worry too much,” you’d shaken your head, giving him a kiss.

Bucky was unsettled, joining Steve in his attempts to convince you to stay behind. You had brushed them off, excited to finally be assigned a solo mission. You were a newer addition to the avengers team, and you hadn’t had a chance to take a solo mission. It didn’t help when you had not one, but two overly protective boyfriends. With Steve being responsible for most mission assignments, you had been placed in groups— usually with both Steve and Bucky. You were aptly trained, but they still feared for you.

.

You laid on the floor of the jet, thinking about your mission that had gone horribly wrong.

Panic seized you as you realized that Steve and Bucky were going to lose their shit. They’d told you to stay home and you’d ignored them, and ended up injured.

What was supposed to be a simple intel gain, had turned violent when someone realized you were undercover. You’d managed to escape the sleazy club with the help of a local, but only after you’d been brutally beaten.

You had barely made it back to the jet, and now pain was flooding through your body, leaving you exhausted, and struggling to take shallow breaths. You ached, but the fear of Steve and Bucky banning you from missions was worse.

Steve could be an extremist, overly anxious about your safety. Bucky was much more level-headed and rational, but you doubted that even he would remain calm when he saw your bruises.

No problem, you just had to figure out a way to cover it up. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and you didn’t intend to let them find out.

Your brain spun through how you were going to hide it, coming up short with ideas. You pushed yourself onto your knees and iced the bruises, taking some painkiller that Stark kept on the jet.

.

You managed to get yourself standing by the time you arrived back at the compound, though you still looked a mess.

Stark greeted you when the jet opened, and you hurried onto the tarmac. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you swore.

“That bad?”

“Yeah. You look like death. What the hell happened?” Stark demanded, following you inside.

Luckily, Steve and Bucky were caught up on a mission somewhere else, and you had a couple of hours before they returned.

“Morozova caught on. Gave me a beating, but I’m fine. And I managed to get the intel you asked for. But Tony, promise me you won’t tell the boys!” You begged, and the inventor looked hesitant.

“I’m fine, and you know they’ll overreact. I’ll be more careful next time, but don’t blow this for me, please!” You pleaded, walking with him to the lab.

“Fine. But only because I owe you. And if they find out, you deny that I knew. Come on, let’s get you some help.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Tony and letting him inspect your injuries. He concluded all your bones were intact, and you didn’t have internal bleeding. He cleaned your scrapes and cuts, and told you to watch the bruising. It was clear you’d had the shit kicked out of you, your ribs, stomach, hips, legs, and back evidence of the assault.

“This looks painful. You’ll need to be careful, and no physical training until you’re healed up. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, Stark.”

He hummed in his annoyed, impatient tone, and you watched him go. You gave yourself a moment before walking to your suite, changing into leggings and Bucky’s vintage “Stark Industries” hoodie, knowing it would hide all the bruising. You fell asleep waiting for them, exhaustion getting to you.

.

You slowly opened your eyes when lips pressed against your forehead. The touch was familiar, and you tilted your head back to meet Bucky’s mouth.

“Hi, doll,” he murmured, smiling against your lips.

You sat up, greeting the boys and kissing Steve.

“How was the mission?” Steve brushed hair from your face.

“I got all the intel for Stark,” you smiled, earning proud grins from the boys.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky kissed your cheek.

You were thankful you hadn’t been dragged into their arms, squeezed and smothered like they occasionally preferred. You concealed your pain, reduced to a dull ache from the Tylenol.

“Let’s shower, calm down a bit?” Bucky offered, kissing your neck, making your spine prickle with need.

“I’m good, go ahead. I’ve already showered.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, and Bucky drew away from kissing your neck.

He exchanged a look with Steve before turning back to you, steel and sky blue eyes narrowing at you.

“Y/N…” Steve began, but cut off, allowing you an opportunity to explain your lie.

“I mean, I just, don’t feel up to it…” you tried, shying away from Steve when he reached out to set his hand on your leg.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, worry flashing across his eyes.

“Nothing, honey. I’m fine,” you promised, touching his scruffy face and giving him a kiss.

“Then let’s have some shower sex,” Steve met your gaze.

You nodded, going in the bathroom first. You got in the shower, and they followed, seeing your body covered in bruises and scrapes.

“Y/N!” Bucky cried, lifting your arm and inspecting your injuries.

“It’s fine, really. No broken bones or internal bleeding.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you tell us?!” Steve raised his voice, making you sink back against the cold tile.

“Because I didn’t want you to get angry and forbid me from going on missions!” You defended yourself.

Both men tried to contain their agitation, not wanting you to feel like they were angry. Their fears became tangible, seeing you wounded.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been injured, we’re just worried. You need to tell us when you’re hurt,” Steve’s tone softened.

“I’m sorry,” you finally conceded.

“Don’t be. First of all, are you okay?” Bucky asked, tilting your face up.

“It hurts,” you admitted.

Bucky winced at your tone, understanding how much pain you were in. You abandoned your attempts to conceal it, and he could hear the agony in your voice.

“I’m so sorry,” he leaned down and gently kissed your bruises. Steve joined, and suddenly they were kissing all over your body.

Your hands went to Bucky’s hair as he kissed your hip, and sparkling grey eyes gazed up at you. Steve kissed your inner thigh, and you bit your lip, need pooling between your legs. Tingling started to spread through your body, and you were seconds away from begging your boyfriends to touch you.

Steve stood, towering over you from behind. Strong arms gently snaked around you, supporting your weight without putting pressure on the bruises.

“Steve-?” You looked up at him, but you tightened your grip on Bucky’s hair as his mouth went where you desired.

“Oh,” you breathed as Bucky’s tongue gently lapped through your folds, brushing over your clit.

“We’re going to be gentle, doll,” Steve promised, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“Going to make some of that ache go away,” Bucky mumbled against your heat, his speech sending echoed vibrations through your sex.

You gripped Steve’s arm, thankful he was holding you up, or else your knees would’ve buckled, weak from Bucky eating you out.

He reached up, gently brushing his fingertips over your entrance, gauging your reaction. Your muscles fluttered at the touch, trying to pull him in. He smirked against you, sucking on your clit and using his tongue to tease you. You fisted his dark hair, slipping between your fingers from being soaked by the shower, and you struggled to find solidity.

“James!” You cried, throwing your head back on Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, stroking your velvety walls.

Steve gently groped your chest, teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers. The boys knew how to get you off— and knew how to do it gently. You’d never been more thankful for them as you were in this moment, soft heat wrapping around your body, mixing with the steam of the warm shower.

Your eyes fell closed and you arched your sore back off of Steve, grinding against Bucky’s face before he coaxed an orgasm from you.

“That’s it, pretty girl, come all over Buck’s face,” Steve smirked into your neck. 

You cried out, yanking on Bucky’s hair and collapsing against Steve. You winced as he bumped your bruises, trying to catch you. He murmured out an apology, and Bucky leaned back under the water, grinning up at you. 

“Let’s get you clean, then you can rest, doll.”

You were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open as they helped you wash up, sending you to dry off so they could take care of one another. You offered to jerk them off, returning the favor, but Steve just laughed and kissed you.

“Go get in bed. We’ll join you in a bit.”

You didn’t argue, sliding into bed in fresh pajamas, printed with Steve’s shields. He’d gotten them for you as a bit of a joke, but you’d loved them, wearing them all the time. The boys’ dog tags rested under the button-down top, cold against your warm skin. You were nearly lulled to sleep by the hum of the shower, struggling to stay awake as the two boys returned to your bedroom, going to either side. 

“What happened on the mission, love?” Steve asked quietly, lying down with his face inches from yours. 

“I was in a meeting, getting the information that Stark wanted on the Hydra transfers. I’m not sure what gave it away, but General Morozova found out that I was under cover. He beat me, but a Sokovian helped me escape,” you explained wearily, sighing as Bucky’s arm went around you protectively.

“You’re safe now. Once you’re recovered, we’ll talk about future missions.”

“So you’re not banning me?” you asked hopefully, looking up at Steve.

“You’re too valuable, but you’re not going on missions without Bucky and I for a while,” Steve conceded, kissing your nose.

“I could be okay with that,” you squeezed them in a hug, ignoring the pain that shot through you. 

You giggled as kisses were littered all over your face, the three of you talking until you fell asleep. 

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[mxvladdy]

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

  A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself.  They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait.  “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Sometimes all he does is stand on the roof by himself with Lyssandra 2.0 on his ears. A little musical speaker system that sings to him at his command with the touch of a button.

Cid really is looking out for him most days.

Sometimes he lays there. Sometimes not. Currently he is listening the beat that is pulsing through his ears even if the small speakers are resting just before them. Bone conduction is what Cid called it and he said he made them this way because he didn't want to risk damaging his hearing.

Currently he is tapping his feet against the stone roof as he allows himself to get lost in the rhythm. This would never be allowed under normal circumstances but that's why he runs away from the view of any who would see him and he sneaks off to a rooftop where the nine eyed beast would never dare to venture. He'll go to the clouds if he must but there is something about feeling the vibrations of the ground itself under the pads of his feet that he finds extremely comforting.

His boots have been discarded to the side so bare feet may touch the stone surface. He wants to feel life pulse through him as he moves about and sways. He just wants his body to relax. He just wants the tension to melt away. He just wants the rigid sensation that keeps his back tight to release and he just wants to feel his knuckles pop when he tries to crack them.

Maybe he'll go soak in the bath again later and just melt into a puddle of cloud while he continues to struggle with getting his mind to shut off. He's questioning every reality. He's questioning relationships. He's questioning bonds. He's questioning his place in the world and most of all he's questioning how he is ever supposed to speak his truth into the air because he doesn't want to become daunting for those around him.

He hasn't even explained it all to Rakkani but that's only because he keeps failing to find the words to do so. It's so much easier to express it God to God and he hardly has anyone in his life who fits that category. Not truly. Not in the full depth of what that means in the cosmic scale of things.

There is nary a soul in the whole of the cosmos that truly understands how he thinks and yet there is an entire handful of people who think they have the right to tell him how to do so. What do they know when speaking to a celestial? Do they really understand what he is? Do they know? Do they realize the angels they call upon high were truly the forms of his people?

It's hard to describe to them the depth of which his bone functions. There is no cure for his curse because how does one repair stardust and find the missing pieces of the heavens that have shattered out from the grand cosmos that exists within his lungs? His purpose was to serve the Universe, Salvation born while being the Universe all the same.

Starlight making up his vision as moon's blood ran through his veins. The heavens themselves stored within his lungs only to pour from his lips with a single exhale. How does he tell them? How does he ever explain to any of them exactly what he is? How the whole of an entire cosmos exists within his core and he can feel the stars themself pulse beneath his fingertips when he holds his hand to he sky...

He is not a man but something much greater. He is not a man but something much higher. He is not a man and he never was. He was only granted this form by the Celestial Mother herself so than he may better understand the world that exists around him.

The world he was born to protect.

He doesn't know how to explain to the people around him that he is a concept more than he is a man. He is a feeling more than he is a life and he is spirit of Salvation itself more than he is that of anything that can take claim to mortal flesh. He is made of stardust. He can breathe the cosmos into lungs and he can command to erupt into a fiery explosion with the mere guide of a single line drawn.

He can dance amongst the clouds. He can touch the sky. He can move mountains and he can part seas. He can send the force of the Gods back towards them with a single blow. He can discard his flesh to ascend. He can ascend into a higher being by merely playing a tune upon the orchestra of his very soul. The stars play a symphony with his life's breath as the Moon's light fills his eyes.

He can cheat death. He can dance her Danse Macabre while never missing a single beat but then slip out of her grip to slide into another. He guide the lives around him into their own Danse Macabre only to dance their piece with death herself for the rest of eternity. He can bring them salvation. He can bring them light. He can bring them hope.

Normal people can't do what he can do.

But he is hardly normal.

Even as he allows the bare pads of his feet to strike against the cold stone to a rhythm only he can hear. A pulse only he can feel. He is not a man. He not a monster. Nor a demon or a devil.

He is Salvation born to serve the very Universe herself and yet the universe all the same.

Some things are just better left unsaid. No one else would ever understand.

[honeyhan-123]

The Monster In Plain Sight ~ II

Series Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Chapter Summary: You awaken to a little surprise... 

Warnings:Dark!Steve, explicit mentions of rape, male masturbation, porn, Steve being creepy. 

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: Sorry it took me so long but enjoy this lovely new banner/moodboard <3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

Despite his late night rendezvous, Steve Rogers was up with the sun, just like usual. He knew he still had plenty of time before you would awake and so he started his normal morning routine, with only a slight tweak. Instead of heading to the shower where he usually imagined your body underneath his as he fisted his raging hard cock, he lay in bed, pulling out the camera from his bedside table. 

His fist glided up down his cock as he played the video back. You had felt so good last night and watching the video just made him want you even more. He couldn’t wait until you were completely his, at his mercy. But most of all, he couldn’t wait until you were awake while he took you. He wondered if you would fight back like the others had, or if you would just yield to him like the sweet little submissive he would train you to be. 

He rarely got the chance to take someone while they were awake, it was far too dangerous and while he did have friends in high places and he knew that any claims would just get swept aside, if too many claims came up people would start to talk and he wanted to avoid that at all costs if he could. 

When he finally came all over his stomach it was to the vision clouding his mind of you, down on your knees, mouth wide open as you jerked him off. In his vision his cum coated your face, some of it dripping down to your chest and like the good girl you are, you swept some of it up with your fingers before licking them clean. ‘Thank you Steve.’

He showered and dressed quickly after that. On his way out of the apartment complex he stopped by your room, letting himself in with the key he had snagged from the landlord weeks ago. Your body had barely moved from when he had said goodbye, your nipples still pebbled from the cool air and a mess slowly seeping out of your cunt. 

He could feel himself harden again as he fixated on his dried cum coating your pussy lips. He hoped it took, but if not there was always next time. 

Steve had to physically force himself out of your room because he knew if he stayed he would take you again and you would probably wake up while he was inside you, which would ruin everything. He had to play this smart if he wanted it to work. So instead, he blew you a kiss from the doorway before heading out for his daily run, more eager than ever to return. 

+

You awoke slowly, a soft smile drifting across your lips as you remembered the dream. It had been more vivid than most, in fact, you could almost have sworn it was real. They were happening more and more often recently. Ever since he moved in next door. The living Adonios. 

You couldn’t help it. Not really. Not when he looked like that. You blamed the most recent one on dinner the night before. He had seemed so sad at the prospect of eating alone and so you had offered to cook for him. The smile that had graced his face had completely eased you of any anxiety at inviting a stranger into your home. 

When your eyes finally opened, the warm contentment turned to ice in your veins. 

Your body jolted up and you grimaced as you felt a pang between your legs. Where your sleep clothes had once been, there was nothing but naked skin. The ice in your veins turned to shards when you dipped a hand down, in between your legs. You didn’t have to be able to see it to know what it was. 

You didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. 

Instead you emptied what little was left in your stomach into the waste paper basket by your bedside table. You couldn’t think of anything as you lay on the floor, heave after heave convulsing through your body. 

You didn’t know when they started but tears were freely flowing down your cheeks and sobs joined the dry heaves. How had this happened? How could this have possibly happened? What had happened?

You almost didn’t hear the knock over the noise but then you heard his voice call out. ‘Y/N? You there? Is everything okay?’ Your unease lifted slightly and you scrambled to cover yourself with a dressing gown. If anyone could help you it was him. Captain America. 

A part of you didn’t want to face him, you didn’t want to face anyone. Not like this. But you knew that you should. He was a good guy and he’d be able to help. You chanted that mantra over and over again as you approached the door, wincing with every step.

You were just about to unlock the door when a flash of your dream came back to you. His godlike face twisted in pleasure as he rutted into you. It raised bile in your throat and you had to force yourself to swallow it back down. 

You were being ridiculous. You knew you were. Yet you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to open the door. 

‘Y/N? I’m starting to get worried, is everything okay?’ Concern laced his voice and you knew he was just trying to be friendly yet still you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. Instead you tried to find your own voice.

‘No… Steve. It’s not.’ You barely managed to choke the words out but you knew he heard you. 

‘Let me in Doll. Let me help you.’ His voice was earnest but still you shook your head.

‘I can’t.’ The words were whispered against the wood. ‘I just… I can’t even think about it.’ 

‘Doll, you’re really worrying me. Let me in and I’ll help you, I promise.’ Steve’s voice pleaded at you through the door and a part of you longed to open it for him. 

‘I’m not decent…’ Even you could tell how feeble your excuse was and it seemed like Steve had had enough.

‘Doll… Open the door or I’ll break it down. I’m really concerned.’ Despite the threat, you knew he was just trying to help you and the thought of not having a door anymore sent a chill down your spine. Not that the door had helped much last night… ‘You have until the count of three. One… Two…’

The door creaked open before Steve could get to three and he relished in the sight before him. 

You had your arms wrapped around yourself, as though you thought you could physically hold yourself together and there were dried tear tracks down both your cheeks. Steve had to hide his glee at seeing you so defeated. Now wasn’t the time for gloating, it was the time for comforting. 

‘Oh Doll… What on earth happened to you?’ Your eyes were locked on the floor, refusing to meet his as he searched your face. You even recoiled as Steve reached out to cup your chin in his hand. ‘Doll? I need to know what happened.’ Steve tried to make his tone firm yet still comforting, wanting you to feel safe with him. 

‘I… Well…’ Steve could tell your words were failing you and now wasn’t the time to push but he so longed to hear you admit it. 

‘Doll?’ There was silence for a beat as you thought.

‘My apartment… it was broken into last night.’ 

‘Oh Doll, I’m so sorry. What did they steal?’

‘I-nothing. At least I think…’ You slowly drifted off, your eyes quickly darting around the small main room.

‘Oh, well then what’d they do? Did you wake up?’

‘No… I only just woke up…’ Your vague answers were starting to annoy Steve. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

‘Doll, what aren’t you telling me? I’m trying to help you but I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.’ 

‘No I don’t - I don’t want your help. I’ll just call the cops or something.’  

‘Doll,’ he gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. ‘I’m an Avenger. I’m here to help. I’ll be far more useful to you than those pigs. I mean… Do you really think they’ll help someone like you? We both know how useless they are and how little they care about anyone but themselves.’ Steve was careful with his word choice. He didn’t want to seem too eager but he also needed to persuade you to confide in him. 

‘Plus, the Avengers have far more resources than the NYPD could even dream of. I want to help you and I want to put your fears at ease.’ Steve could almost hear the argument raging in your head. He knew how little you cared for the city’s cops due to past experiences and was gratified when you seemed to come to a decision. 

‘Okay, but… Well, it’s not really an Avenger level threat.’

‘I assumed as much Doll. But don’t worry. I’m your friend first and Captain America second. I wont tell the others.’ Looking into his cerulean blue eyes you could see nothing but earnestness and maybe a little excitement at the thought of helping you and so you made up your mind. No matter how embarrassing it was, you would feel better with him helping than some random cop. So you gave a little nod at your ascent which was met by America’s most charming smile.

‘So what happened?’

‘Well… Like I said. My apartment was broken into last night.’ Your eyes were locked on your fingers as you spoke. Not wanting to have to say any more. 

‘But they didn’t take anything?’

‘No. I’m pretty sure they didn’t.’ 

‘So what happened?’ You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for saying it outloud. 

‘I… they… When I woke up…’ Your words seemed to be failing you but Steve was determined to wait it out. He was determined to hear you say it. ‘I don’t know how it happened but… they… I was… I was violated.’ 

‘Violated like…?’ Steve let his question hand in the air.

‘Sexually. They raped me.’

‘They raped you?’ Steve repeated your words back to you as if double checking that he had heard right. You couldn’t help the flinch as if his words alone could physically hurt you but you nodded your head. ‘How?’

Despite yourself you shot him an exasperated look. ‘How do you think? They broke in and they fucked me while - while I was… while I was asleep.’

‘And you didn’t realise?

‘No… At least not really…’ You blanched at your admission, inwardly begging he wouldn’t ask what you meant. But obviously whoever out there didn’t care about what you wanted. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘It doesn’t matter.’ You tried to shrug off his question but his eyebrows rose and he locked you in with an unyielding stare. ‘Well… I didn’t notice… at least subconsciously. I had a dream.’ 

‘A dream?’

‘Yes a dream. But it doesn’t matter like I said.’ Your cheeks flushed with heat at the mere mention of it.

‘And it was sexual?

‘Yes.’

‘Who was it with?’

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘You might have subconsciously picked up things about your attacker in your dream. It’ll help us narrow the search.’ Steve seemed to sense his misstep and quickly tried to justify it. 

‘No. It wasn’t him so it won’t help.’ Steve opened his mouth as if to argue but you steeled yourself with a glare and said in the firmest tone you could manage, ‘it won’t help.’

Steve seemed to sense your resolve and dropped the topic, instead focusing on what had happened. ‘So I guess it happened in your bedroom?’ You nodded and followed him as he crossed the room. ‘So obviously since you were asleep you didn’t really notice anything but what makes you so certain something happened?’ 

You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking you that. ‘I know something happened because… well when I woke up I could tell and there was… stuff.’ You couldn’t bring yourself to call it what it was. 

‘Stuff?’

‘Bodily stuff.’ You urged him to understand and thankfully he did. His mouth dropped into a little ‘oh’. 

You watched as Steve walked around your room, occasionally pausing here or there to pick something up and examine it. He didn’t stop until he got to your pillow. 

‘Have you seen this?’ He held out a little piece of paper in his hand and you shook your head.  ‘Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.’ You shuddered as he read it aloud. ‘Have you seen the handwriting before?’ 

You shook your head as you stared down at the paper. It was completely unfamiliar. ‘That’s okay, I’ll take it to the lab and see if we can get a handwriting match or any fingerprints. But I think perhaps you shouldn’t be staying here anymore. Do you have some friends or family in the city?’ 

‘Uh no not really. All my family is interstate and I’m pretty new to the city.’ 

‘It’s no matter. Honestly probably for the best. The Avengers have a series of safe houses, the highest possible security and protection. Maybe you should stay at one of those.’ 

‘Are you sure that’s really necessary?’ 

‘Do you want him to come back?’ 

‘Of course not.’

‘Then yes I’m sure it’s really necessary. We have one upstate, close to the compound that I think will work nicely. Why don’t you pack a bag?’ 

+

You packed like a machine, barley even pausing to think. There was no rhyme or reason as to what you were placing in the small weekend bag, anything you could get your hands on. You shoved in a pair of bathers along with your thermals used for snow and then an old hiking shirt.

Steve had left very briefly to make some phone calls and pack a bag of his own but you barely noticed when he returned, a small red bag in his hand. You watched confused as he handed you a little glass tube, a Q-tip inside. 

‘Here, I found this in my first-aid kit. I figured you would want to do a test.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s for DNA. I’ll take it to the lab and we’ll see if we can find a match in the system. So if you could allow me to just…’ You quickly caught on as a blush coated Steves cheeks while the blood drained from your own. 

‘I can do it.’ 

‘We can’t let the chain of evidence be in question. If it’s called up in court…’ You shook your head vehemently. 

‘Please Steve. I mean, the evidence is already on me. It’s hardly breaking the chain of evidence.’ 

Steve sighed but nodded you away towards the bathroom and you scrambled away. Your hands shook as you swiped the Q-tip along your folds, trying to get as much DNA as you could on the little head. Revulsion wrecked through you as you decidedly fixed your gaze on the hot water tap on your sink. You analysed how the rust had crept up the side of the handle instead of thinking about what you were doing. 

When you were finished you headed back into the bedroom where Steve stood waiting with a glass of water in his hand. 

‘The drive should only be a couple of hours and I can drop that off at the compound once you’re at the safe house.’ You nodded and made for your bag, hitching it up over your shoulder. 

‘I’m not sure if you’ve thought about it much, but I imagine you probably want to take this.’ He handed a little white pill out to you along with the glass of water. ‘It’s a morning after pill, they come with the rape kit.’ 

‘Shit, yeah. I hadn’t even thought about that. Fuck that’ll be awful wouldn’t it? Just my luck too.’ You threw the pill back in one swallow and smiled graciously at Steve, not quite realising just how forced his smile had now become. 

‘C’mon, let’s get out of here.’ Steve pulled your bag from your shoulder and left the room. 

You cast a small once over of the bedroom one last time, not noticing the little Tylenol wrapper in your waste paper bin. 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

[spookybias]

ᝰ frozen ideals | park sunghoon ˎˊ˗

paring: park sunghoon x gender neutral! reader

genre: slice of life ─ fluff, slight angst

content: idol! sunghoon x figure skater! reader, more than friends but less than lovers au, i ramble a bit about what a home is.

synopsis: sunghoon revisits the ice rink, and after seeing you, begins to have doubts on what he really wants in life.

word count: 2.7k

note: this only took a couple of days, so it’s not my best work. i kind of overdid it i guess? this was supposed to be short, but i just couldn’t stop. i also cried while writing a couple of paragraphs of this lol. one more thing, i’m not the best with endings, so i’m not sure if you guys will understand it. it is happy, though.

SUNGHOON DIDN'T VISIT THE ICE RINK AS OFTEN AS HE BEFORE. During his figure skating career, he was often at the ice rink at least 3-4 times a week. Sometimes before school hours, other times after school hours, and many times during school hours. If he thought his life as a professional figure skater was busy, his belief had changed once advancing from trainee to applicant to contestant, and finally, to idol.

Sunghoon’s time was divided between training, schoolwork, competitions, and every now and then, interviews.

His schedule was now made up of all the tasks of a predebut idol. There were photoshoots, interviews, and vocal and dance practices to attend. His free time was given away, -but only out of love for his fans- to sudden vlive sessions and random social media updates. he rarely ever had time to himself nowadays, as even what was left after all of his daily routines and weekly events was often used to eat, freshen up, and rest. And none of this would compare to the schedule that was to come once him and the boys made their debut.

There were times where he thought back to his days on the ice; what would life be like if he hadn’t quit figure skating?

It had been a long time since he had visited the ice rink, and while all the other boys used their one free day off in a while to visit their family back home, or to hang out with their old friends at their favorite place, Sunghoon found himself back at the ice rink. But who’s to say that this favorite place of his that he spent many times at alone, wasn’t his home?

Home isn’t where you live. No, that was your apartment, your house, your condo or your space at the shelter, maybe even the streets. Home is the place that provides you with a sense of security, an overwhelming amount of happiness, a much more avaliable version of cloud 9. Even when you’ve been there twenty times in one week, forty times in one month, the place still feels like a new visit each time. That’s a home.

Often, it isn’t what you do at said place that makes it a home. It’s the safe space founded by the very things about that place that make you happy. The angle at which the lights hit, the background noise that boasts behind you when you’re having fun, the people inhabiting the environment. All these things still feel new, but recognizable every time you visit.

This was the case for Park Sunghoon. You were his safe space.

The ice rink was nearly empty except for you, your coach, and the advisor who kept watch to make sure there weren’t any mishaps in the rink. This wasn’t meant to be a private meeting. You almost always arrived as soon as the rink opened, and so there were never really people there.

Sunghoon had shown up out of the blue after waking up with a sudden urge to visit the rink. It wasn’t until he stood in the seating area, looking over the frost, did he realize how much he missed. He remembered the goosebumps that grazed his skin when the chilly air hit his bare arms and the numb feeling you get on your butt when you land on it after falling back.

He longed for it all, but maybe not enough to quit his new career.

You noticed the lanky boy outside the rink after landing a toe loop. You were a skater, sure, but you weren’t the most coordinated one. You had often made it to competitions with Sunghoon, but you wouldn’t ever make it as far as he did. Still, you loved ice skating, and you would only get better.

That being said, you hadn’t gotten better just yet and were easily distracted. Skidding to a halt, you cheerfully waved to Sunghoon. “Hi, Hoonie!” That meant your eyes were off the cracking ice in front of you, and you tripped, flying forward.

Sunghoon rushed out onto the ice, panic gracing his features. He was accustomed to the ice, and carefully but quickly made it to you in his converse.

“____, are you okay?” Sunghoon didn’t wait for an answer, wrapping one of your arms around his neck and hoisting you up bridal style. “I haven’t seen you in months, and when I finally do I cause an accident.” He shook his head.

You chuckled at his self-disappointment. You waited for him to put you down on the bleachers before telling him, “It wasn’t that big of a deal Sunghoon. I’ve fallen hundreds of times. Ninety out of a hundred of those times, you weren’t there to help me.”

“If it was no big deal, then why did you need me to carry you off the ice?”

You smiled mockingly, eyes shut tight and lips pressed together, a compressed smile at its finest. “I didn’t. I just wanted a free ride.”

Sunghoon shook his head, laughing. His laugh was light like a feather, quiet like a baby’s snore. “You always were lazy,” He replied jokingly.

“Hey! I’ve been practicing really hard! Someone has to take your place, remember? And you’re not here to coach me anymore.”

It was true. After word got around that the Park Sunghoon had quit his career as a professional figure skater, everyone in you guys’ age range seemed to be fighting to be known as the best. For awhile, Sunghoon offered you tips and techniques for mastering his most known tricks. You were someone dear to him, and even when you guys were competing against each other, he secretly hoped you’d do better than him.

The young boy only got busier, though, and could no longer help you train.

“____!” You were snapped out of your conversation by your coach, Eunkyung. She walked up to the two of you. The way she eyed Sunghoon -a look of disbelief mixed with digust- made you gulp. “Stop fooling around. He isn’t here to train you anymore, therefore, he’s wasting valuable time.”

You knew how Eunkyung felt towards Sunghoon. She had dreams of making it as big as him when she was the same age, but couldn’t due to financial situations. Seeing someone who had everything she wanted in a figure skating career give it all up irked her soul. She had openly voiced her opinions on Park Sunghoon to you and the other trainees.

“Please, Eunkyung.” You begged in a low voice, but Sunghoon could still hear. Something about you begging Eunkyung to let him stay made his heart flutter. “We hardly see each other anymore. I really missed him.”

That was it. Sunghoon’s ears were suddenly on fire. When had you gotten so bold?

“Fine. Thirty minutes. Don’t expect another break today because this is the only one you’ll be getting.” Eunkyung walked off muttering something about ungrateful teens and the next competition being in three weeks.

You began to move from the bench Sunghoon had dropped you off at, but immediately sat back down, a hiss escaping your lips.

“You said you were fine.” Sunghoon placed a protective hand on your shoulder, as if the pain was a person making their way towards you.

“I am fine.” You stared out onto the ice trying to wiggle out the static shooting through your leg.

“That isn’t the kind of sound people make when they’re fine, ____. I’ll get Eunkyung.”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “It’s just a cramp, Sunghoon. You know figure skaters get cramps.”

Sunghoon stood quietly, looking down at you, but you avoided eye contact. “Okay.”

“I get them a lot. Eunkyung says it’s because I don’t stretch enough beforehand. We used to stretch together, remember? But you’re not here anymore so I forget.” The statement sounded more spiteful than you intended.

Sunghoon wondered if you were mad at him, and hiding your anger with fake excitement towards seeing him again. Did you secretly wish that he had never come back?

You kept bringing up the past and reminding him that he wasn’t around anymore. It was times like these where he questioned what he really wanted.

The two of you sat in silence. Just basking in each other’s existence was enough. That’s what was so mesmerizing about your friendship. Sometimes all the two of you did was sit next to each other, and it felt like so much fun.

“It’s been awhile, huh, ice prince?” You broke the silence and smiled playfully. “Did you miss me?” Your tone was teasing when you asked, but deep down you knew that if the answer was no your heart would shatter.

Sunghoon didn’t bother to even fight back. “Yeah, I did.” He liked it when you called him ice prince. It could get him to admit anything. It could even make him admit he was in love with you, but you didn’t need to know that.

“You never text me anymore.” He couldn’t figure out if it was a normal statement or a sad one. “I know you’re busy, though.” He exhaled being grateful for that add-on. “What’s it like?”

“I love it.” Sunghoon simply stated. You hardly even finished asking the question when he had answered. “It’s a lot of work, and sometimes I can’t believe I made it, but I love it.”

“You love Jake especially too, right?” You teased.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“You know I’m kidding,” You shook your head, laughing. Sunghoon missed hearing your laugh. The audio recordings from old videos of you two together just weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You know you’re the only…” Sunghoon trailed off and looked away. Talking about his feelings for you was difficult for him. It was difficult for you too. You didn’t need him to finish his sentence. Of course, you often needed reassurance that you hadn’t been replaced, but just the first few words of his statement were enough. You knew what he meant.

He was the only one for you too.

“Do you think what I’m doing is right?” Sunghoon suddenly questioned. For some reason he was holding back a sob, and he wasn’t sure why.

You stared at a scrape in the ice for a moment, before finally turning to the boy of your dreams. “Yes.” You nodded your head, smiling. “I watch your vlives and read your interviews and I retweet all your photos and cheer on all your moments.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. You were happy for Sunghoon, but it hurt that he was doubting his desires after a long time of trying to prove himself.

You continued, “Sometimes my friends tell me I’m whipped, but I’m just really happy for you, Hoonie. So please don’t doubt yourself.”

Sunghoon was glad that only one tear had escaped. He didn’t want you to cry over him. “There are days where I try to imagine what life would be like if I was still here. Skating with you and everyone else.”

You replied almost instantly. “Well stop imagining those things. You’re not here anymore. You can’t let what you thought you wanted interfere with what you really want. You didn’t leave anyone or anything behind. It’s not like you forgot about this place. We still love you, and we’re rooting for you and always have been. You spent so long trying to prove yourself to everybody. Don’t let those years be in vein. If you quit, I swear I’ll-”

“I’m not going to quit.” Sunghoon stopped you. “If you’re proud of me, then I must be doing the right thing.”

You let out a breath and smiled, turning away from the boy once again. “Ideals change, ice prince. You’re allowed to change.”

Sunghoon looked over at you, noting how you avoided eye contact. He found it really cute. “Thank you, ____.” The two of you shared a smile, and then Sunghoon looked down to your left leg. “How is it? Is the cramp gone?”

You stood up, wiggled your left foot, and hopped on your left leg for good measure. “Yep! Think we can go around the rink for a bit before my break is up?”

Sunghoon’s cheeks turned pink. “Are you asking me out?”

You tightened your laces and laughed. “I would never."

SUNGHOON SKATED BESIDE YOU. This wasn’t a date. Despite your hands clasped together tightly but comfortably and the statements shared between the two of you earlier, you and Sunghoon were not a thing. The two of you were just a couple of friends who almost had something due to your shared interest and quiet bonding. You loved each other and it wasn’t complicated, but it was uncharted territory neither of you were ready to enter.

You skidded to a stop. “I’ve been practicing really hard,” You told Sunghoon again. You skated circles around him. “Eunkyung says that with a couple more months of training, I can make it farther than you ever did.”

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon began following after you, the two of you facing each other, skating sideways to form a small circle around the spot you guys had just been standing in.

“Yes, it is.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “But seriously. It’s so much work ‘cause you’re known for doing the most.” You rolled your eyes, remembering the countless laps Eunkyung made you skate around the ice rink. You brightened up when you remembered something else. “I’ve been getting a lot better at salchows, though, which we all know I am terrible at. Look.”

Sunghoon watched in amazement as you skated around the rink, performing salchows over and over again. Your landings were a little slopping, but you could easily fix that.

“I wanna show you something else before you go.” Suddenly Sunghoon remembered that he had to leave soon, as your break would be up, and he had to see his mother in a bit. He followed you out the ice rink.

You opened your backpack, which Sunghoon had just now noticed was left out on the bleachers. He would have to remind you not to do that. If the rink got crowded, someone could steal your stuff. You pulled out a black notebook and handed it to Sunghoon.

He opened the notebook, puzzled at the lines and numbers all over the pages along with little doodles. However, his confusion went away once he realized that the little doodles were diagrams of figure skating tricks, and the lines and numbers all matched up to physics calculations.

“After you left, I honestly forgot a lot of your tips. It was hard using your methods without you being around to coach me.” You looked down at your hands. “I take physics in school, so I’ve been using it to help me with figure skating.”

Sunghoon was in awe. In his mind, he had been selfish to keep wishing he could be back at the rink just to help you. If he had stayed, he would just be stopping you from finding your own techniques, from realizing your full potential. He now realized that he didn’t have to keep worrying about if you were okay. You were doing just fine without him, and although that thought would be negative to most, Sunghoon was proud of you.

“____, this is amazing.”

“You don’t think it’s nerdy?”

“Of course not. You’re a genius,” Sunghoon stated. The embarrassment that had just filled your senses was quickly replaced by fluster. “Um, thanks, Hoonie.”

The two of you continued to flip through the book together, you pointing out tiny notes that you wanted Sunghoon to see, and him asking questions and nodding his head in intrigue. Sunghoon flipped to the most recent diagram, and examined the page.

“What’s this?” Sunghoon pointed to a diagram of a trick he had never seen before.

“Oh! Eunkyung says that if I want to stand out I should combine a couple of moves and form my own tricks, and name them something cool. I need to show the judges how I stand out from the other contestants.” You looked over the page, and caught a small note in your handwriting. Suddenly feeling nervous, you tried to change the subject. “Uh, why don’t we skate some more.”

Sunghoon glanced at you before scanning the page once more. And then he saw it. The diagram was a mix of a salchow and a toe loop, two moves Sunghoon was very much known for perfecting. Under the diagram were two words that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

Ice Prince.

[batarella]

The Commander - Bucky’s Time (Arkham Knight x Reader x Winter Soldier)

IT’S BUCKY BARNES MY DUUUUUUUDES. YES THE COMMANDER IS HOT STUFF AND THE BADDEST BITCH THERE IS WHICH ONLY MAKES SENSE THAT SHE GETS TO HAVE TWO OF THE HOTTEST MEN ALIVE. 

THIS IS SET IN THE TIME BETWEEN THE COMMANDER CHAPTER 1 AND CHAPTER 2. ALSO A VERY SINFUL FIC. PLS READ THE WARNINGS. (I’m not gonna mention about me going to hell cuz I’ve been running it the past few weeks lets be honest)

WORDS: 8124 (DID I HAVE TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS? FUCK YEAH) WARNINGS: VIOLENCE. FIREARMS. COMBAT. INTOXICATION. THREESOOOOOOOOOME (ORAL SEX BOTH or should I say all three RECEIVING, VAGINAL SEX, FINGERING, DOUBLE PENETRATION)

MASTERLIST

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

“You’re gonna love him. He’s gold.”

“Then why am I only hearing about him just now?”

“He was based in Sokovia.”

“Sokovia?”

Slade enthusiastically pushed the double doors open. Deathstroke, the Arkham Knight, and the Commander stormed down the empty halls, all the way down to the combat grounds where Slade said this new recruit was waiting.

“How’d you get him to join the militia?” Commander Y/N asked. Slade didn’t turn. “He came to Venezuela for some other shit. Asked him if he wanted the extra cash.”

“The amount this guy is asking for definitely isn’t extra cash,” the Knight’s eerie voice filtered.

“He was Hydra’s best man. What do you expect?”

The Commander’s eyes shot up. “HYDRA???”

At the sight of their superiors the men’s muffled voices faded out, and there were salutes, whispers, and shushes. Slade led them into the crowded combat grounds where several of her men were in the middle of sparring sessions. The Commander nodded at them to carry on.

And when they went further into a flock of soldiers circling a rather familiar figure standing in the middle, Commander Y/N felt her whole bodily system stiffen in cold ice. The long, ruffled hair. The metal arm. The machine gun strapped to his shoulder. There was no denying it.

“Barnes.”

He turned around.

Slade placed his arm on his shoulder. “Knight. Our newest recruit. The Winter Sold-“

“BUCKY?!”

Everyone turned their heads at the Commander. Bucky Barnes, the said prized soldier, lost his calm, brooding façade the minute he locked into Y/N’s eyes and shot up with the same astounded gape on his face. Bucky removed the mask covering his mouth. “Y/N???”

One. Two. Three painfully long seconds.

Not one person in that room dared to move a muscle.

“Uh,” Slade stepped in between them. “You folks know each other?”

The Commander ran her teeth through her lips and coughed out the itch in her neck. She looked away from everyone’s prying eyes.

Bucky did the same. “We, uh-“

“I was called into Sokovia about a year ago,” the Commander started. “Bucky- The Winter Soldier here needed a sniper to cover him on a few melee assassinations.”

“So Hydra hired Y/N,” Bucky continued. “We worked together.”

The Knight turned his visor at the Commander, who was too occupied biting back a smile as she stared at Bucky. He looked just as irresistibly rugged as the last time she saw him.

Slade managed a laugh. “Whatever. Knight, give him everything he wants. We don’t know how long he can stay but let’s just hope it’s after we finish in Gotham. I’ll leave you to it.” Then Deathstroke left.

Bucky held his AK with his other hand and extended his impressive metal arm at the Arkham Knight. He stepped in, head held high, then took it.

“The Winter Soldier.”

“That’s what they call me.”

Y/N looked at Bucky, at the Knight, then bit both her lips.

“Nice arm.”

“Mmm,” Bucky growled.

“Decent profile as well,” the Knight said. “Experienced. Heavily trained. Been here for the last few decades. You a metahuman?”

“Super soldier.” Bucky held his gun tighter, looking straight at the Knight’s visor. “Hydra’s serum.”

The Commander didn’t know if the Knight’s groan that followed was from being impressed or repulsed at that.

“Sergeant Whitman will show you to your quarters. We have a few weeks left here before we head to Gotham. Tomorrow, you show us what you got. Then I decide where to put you and your terms.”

“Slade and I already settled my price.”

“I think your price is preposterous.”

“I was told your militia needed a guy like me badly.”

“I’ve never even heard of you until today,” the Knight said.

“Either I get what Wilson promised me or I go.”

“I get the final say.”

Bucky stepped forward. “I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Neither am I.”

“For fuck’s sake,” The Commander pushed on the Knight’s armored chest. “Beckett. End the sparring. We’re done for the day.”

The Sergeant saluted Commander Y/N and went over to the soldiers at the grounds.

“Knight,” her voice lowered. “Be nice.”

“So you worked with the Commander?” the Knight crossed his arms.

“Commander, huh?” Bucky smiled at Y/N. She smiled back with a bite in her lip.

“For how long?”

“A week. In the deserted high mountains just outside of Sokovia,” she said in a weirdly high-pitched tone, as if she were sighing, yearning for the times.

“Deserted?”

“It was just us two,” Y/N said.

Bucky was still eyeing the Commander up and down with a quirk up his brow. “You really leading this army, Y/N?”

“Were you expecting any less?” she smirked.

“My god, you haven’t lost your touch, kitten-“

“KITTEN?!” The Knight stammered. Y/N side eyed the Knight and rolled her eyes, before grinning back at Bucky.

By then, almost everyone in the grounds had left. The Knight, glaring at the both of them behind his visor, stepped back and scoffed. “Just get him to his quarters.”

“Oh, I will…” she breathed, her eyes locked into Bucky’s. He strapped his gun to his back and reached over to Y/N. By then, they heard the doors slam closed and they were alone.

The Commander joyously yelped as she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck, letting him carry her up in the air in a tight bear hug. His metal arm was careful around her waist, and with a smile just as bright as hers, he laughed. Even as he placed her back down on the ground, Y/N continued to hold him close.

“God, I missed you.”

“Never thought I’d see you again.”

“You’re the one who left, jackass.”

“Sorry,” he ran his metal finger down her neck. “You know how it is-“

“I know,” she whispered. “Are you coming with us to Gotham?”

“Hope so. What’s with the Batman mock up?”

“The Arkham Knight. He put this all together,” she said. “Some revenge plot against Batman he won't say.”

He snorted. “Figures.”

“How…” she raised her arms in astonishment. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to remember me.”

“I got out of Hydra just after our mission. They didn’t get to brainwash out that very memorable week-“

“Memorable, huh?” she smiled. “You have to stay, Buck. The Militia definitely could use a guy like you.”

“Well,” he cupped her jaw, then his long hair fell to his cheeks the way that made her head spin in circles. “Now that I know you're here, I just might.”

She leaned in, inhaled that musky, rugged scent that sent her guts flying and her eyes glancing down at his lips. “Wanna hang out in my room?”

“You sure that Knight fella’s not gonna mind?”

“Mind?” she laughed.

“Come on, don’t hide it, kitten. You’re sleeping together.”

She punched his good arm and he chuckled. “Lower your fucking voice.”

“Shit,” he smirked. “Seems like you have a type.”

“We did it once. And we promised not to do it again.”

“Ah. At least I had you for a whole week-“

“Have I ever told you how hard it was firing a mile away from my target with you breathing down my neck?” she said.

“Kitten, I definitely wasn’t just breathing.”

Bucky traced his thumb down her lip, but Y/N pulled away. “My room. Not here.”

She stopped herself from holding his hand on the way back up to the quarters, especially when there were men around who could have seen them. Bucky was just as gorgeous as he had been. His big blue eyes, incredibly muscled build, his long, scruffy hair she still fantasized running her fingers through. And Though he wasn’t as tall as the Knight, he looked just as equally terrifying, menacing, intimidating,

And painfully hot.

They reached the Commander’s quarters and locked the door. The minute it was safe, Y/N pushed Bucky against the wall and kissed him as violently as she were beating him up. “Fuck, I missed this…”

They tore off each other’s armor. His metal arm, snaking up her back to trace the line of her spine, she let him grab onto her ass, then the back of her thighs, before hoisting her up around his hips.

She cried as her ass hit the table, and Bucky cleared everything on the surface. She threw her head back, legs spread wide, and let the brewing hotness in the air take over her core.

Fuck, did she miss that metal arm.

-----

One hundred men. The first batch out of a few others. They were lined up just beneath a string of trees and shade at the edge of a wide-open field, a few minutes away from the barracks where they’d fixed a training ground out of crates, barrels, and sacks stacked on one another. The day was bright, not a cloud watching from above. It was large enough to be the size of a football field, and usually they came here for shooting ranges and obstacle courses.

The Arkham Knight stood in the middle, arms tucked behind his back. The Commander was at his side standing straight and tall.

“If you are here, it means you’re not as well-trained as the others,” the Knight continued with his speech that had been going on for the last few minutes. “All of you should know that the alpha target isn’t the only threat to worry about. There will be thugs around Gotham. The GCPD. And you’re all gonna have to fight each other. After our demonstration, it will be you against everyone else. In batches of ten, you will fight in this field-“ the Knight pointed. “And the last man standing gets to move up a rank.

“New guy. Get over here.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, walked over from his place leaning against one of the tree trunks, then stood right beside the Commander. She smirked.

“It’s me versus the Commander versus the Winter Soldier. You can use your guns. Just make sure you keep away from the head.”

The most dangerous type of training session there was. But only if it were with anybody else than the three.

The Commander pulled out her AK from her back, pulled on the barrel while cocking her hip. Bucky licked his lips while staring at her and did the same with his own gun.

The Knight, noticing it all, screamed. “Get to it!”

“Good luck,” Bucky whispered into her ear.

The air was a smoky, earthy musk, one that calmed her nerves the way she needed them to with her eye dead focused onto the scope. A few minutes had passed, and still there was silence. The Commander walked into a pile of sacks and waited patiently for any whip of a sound.

She heard gun shots. A few yards away. The Commander hopped onto the pile and caught sight of the Knight just narrowly missing Bucky’s metal fist aiming for his head. She pointed her gun at them and fired at their legs.

They noticed in time, fleeing to cover at the racket her bullets were making flying everywhere in the field. She reloaded her gun, eye on her scope, then fired at the wooden cover she saw the Knight roll into. But he wasn’t there.

She turned to her left, and just as she saw Bucky aiming right at her, she rolled down the heaps of sacks and landed on her back. Sparing no time to pull herself up, she hid behind the pile and stretched her neck. The Commander laid her head back, listened for any more gunshots, and once she heard more, no longer aiming at her, she crawled out.

She made sure her back was covered, then continued maneuvering through the field. Following the sounds of the Knight’s guns, she crouched over and held tightly onto her AK.

She was sure she’ll catch sight of the Knight at just a sharp turn to her right, where a barrel was covering her just barely.

The gun fire stopped. He was reloading. Commander Y/N stepped out and opened fire.

Bucky had gone away, and it was just the Knight, taking cover at one of the crates. Just a split second after the Knight held out his gun and fired back. So she hid, holding the gun with just her one hand and blindly fired at the crate.

Except, she wasn’t exactly blind. Not with her.

At the sound of the Knight’s faint hiss, the Commander smirked.

More gun shots. Coming from her far right. Bucky was on top of the barrels and was opening fire at both her and the Knight. She rolled over to a cement block and reloaded what was left of her gun. The Knight, no longer where she left him, had gone. But Bucky was firing at a pile of sacks near her. He must be there in hiding.

But she couldn’t go after him. Not with Bucky on watch.

The Commander crawled under covers where the Winter Soldier wouldn’t be able to see her, moving so quietly he must’ve thought she hadn’t left at all. She reached his right. Far enough to be out of his line of sight.

She whistled at him, then fired at his metal arm. The bullets bounced off him but it wasn’t without flinching at the impact. The Commander hid behind a crate just as Bucky turned his attention to her and rolled his shoulder. “You're gonna regret that!”

“Sure!”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Bullet after bullet. Bucky kept on his heightened stance, with Commander Y/N barely being able to get away from her cover. She managed to land a bullet or two on his arm again, but it only delayed him by a few seconds before he’d start firing again.

She peered over, ever so slightly just to see where he was, then the Commander saw the Arkham Knight creep over from behind him, landing a good punch right at Bucky’s face to send him toppling over to the ground.

Her AK was out of bullets. She had to throw it out. The Commander pulled out her two pistols, loaded them, then stepped out into the open.

She rolled on the ground just narrowly avoiding the Knight’s shots at her, firing a few of her own when she could. The Commander hid behind barrels. They were so close to each other. And it was impossible to run away now. The Knight started firing at Bucky, who was firing at her. She had one chance.

The Commander waited for that one moment where Bucky had to reload before running up the tallest pile of sacks standing between the two, vertically until she was up in the air, then she flipped over so fast, not a single bullet came close to her body. Her arms outstretched, her eyes making the quickest glances, she fired both guns.

Two shots. It was all it took. She managed to hit Bucky’s metal shoulder and the Knight’s ankle. They both hissed and stopped for the one split second she needed, then she fired at their hands. Both guns dropped to the grass.

When she got to the ground, she grabbed one of the sacks, threw it at Bucky, then used her leg to swipe at the Knight’s discarded gun and fling it across the field. Bucky was on the ground, and just as he stood up, his gun had been thrown away as well.

The Commander, the only one left armed, held her guns at both of them. The Arkham Knight on her left, the Winter Soldier on her right.

“I win,” she panted.

But, instead of holding their arms up to surrender, the Knight and Bucky looked at her, then at each other. She would have moved if she was expecting them to conspire.

Bucky was first to charge, but his metal hand blocked her incoming bullets at almost every direction she fired. The Knight took it as a chance to grab her wrist, hold it up in the air before she could fire. Then the Commander elbowed her way out of his grip. He squeezed on her hand, painfully so until she lost her hold on the gun, then the Knight threw it out of the way.

With just one gun left, she aimed it at the Knight, arms up to surrender.

Then Bucky grabbed her in a headlock and kneed her down until she could no longer stand. She grunted, but his fucking metal arm was like trying to move a cement wall off the ground. The Knight charged after her.

Then she used his brick-wall like body to hoist her legs up, pushing her feet against his armor so her boots eventually made their way up to the Knight’s visor. Locking her knees on his head, she head-butted Bucky until he released her from his grip. Her hands landed on the ground, then she flipped over to fling the Knight to the grass, landing on his head.

She won't last so long. Not without her guns. These men will beat her at combat into a bloody fucking pulp.

She dodged, rolled, and backed away before either of them could land a hit. She saw Bucky grab a sack with his one metal arm, then he flung it over to her, sending her flying until her back met a crate. “Fuck!”

“How’d that feel, kitten?!”

The Knight, his words angering him even more, charged after Bucky and pinned his arm down his throat, all the way until his back hit the pile of sacks. It burst beneath him and a cloud of dust started flying across the air.

Thankfully, Bucky had his mask on and the Knight had his visor.

The Knight continued to push down on his neck. Bucky choked, struggled for some air, then his leg came flying up until he kneed his stomach. He grabbed the Knight by the jaw, flipped them over until he was the one pinned to the wall, then threw his arm back.

The Knight barely dodged it, and his metal fist tore a hole through the sacks.

Fuck.

He kicked him off, then the two started throwing punches and kicks and everything they could at each other, Bucky barely being able to block almost every throw the Knight hit and the latter holding onto the last of his armor to endure his stronger punches.

Bucky grabbed him by the throat, but the Knight flipped over and kicked him in the face. Bucky’s body was thrown into the barrels and broke everything in its path.

He got up, cracking his neck, then stared the Knight down.

“You sure you're enhanced?” the Knight’s filtered voice growled.

“Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The Arkham Knight and the Winter Soldier charged after the other, dust parting as they epically ran, their arms thrown back.

Then they were both flying in the air as a barrel of gun powder exploded in between them.

Commander Y/N, smirking her face off as she stood at the highest point above the piles of crates, blew on the muzzle of an AK she found.

The Knight skidded across the ground, and Bucky spat a ball of dirt from his mouth. They crawled and hoisted themselves up with the crates.

She slid off to the floor, running before they could run up to her, then she threw her ammo-less gun to the grass and frantically searched for a place to hide.

Bucky. He ran to her front. The Commander stopped and swallowed. And when she turned around, the Knight was there, cracking his knuckles.

“This should be fun,” she said.

She threw her elbow at the Knight’s visor, lightly cracking it but not enough to have any sort of impact beneath, then Commander Y/N ducked just as Bucky threw his fist at her torso. She slid her leg at his knees, slightly toppling him over. Her back shot up, then she stepped onto a sack to give her the leverage she needed to fly up in the air, spin with her leg out and kick both their heads in one swift move.

Bucky, with his immense superhuman strength, grabbed her leg and flung her all the way to the sacks further dispersing the dust all around the air. She groaned as she hit the floor, rolled over before the Knight could land a kick, then her leg flew to his visor once again, gaining another crack. She felt Bucky come up behind her, so she ducked, grabbed the Knight by his back, then used him as a shield against the metal arm coming right for his chest.

Both the Knight and the Commander flew across the floor.

Before she could stand, throwing the Knight off her body, she saw her pistols on the ground not far from her.

“That fucking arm,” the Knight growled. He stood up, his fist going after Bucky’s head, only to be stopped stiff cold by his hand. The Knight groaned, arm shaking at his reluctance to pull away. Bucky kept holding his fist and eyed the Knight down, now being able to look at him in the eye with the visor’s cover faltering.

The Commander grabbed both their heads, slammed them against each other, then unlatched their fists on each other before either of them could move.

On and on, they waltzed. The Commander could only dodge and duck under Bucky’s arm knowing she couldn’t in any way match his strength, and in doing so, maneuvered those punches so they’d land on the Knight instead. In turn, she did the same to the Knight’s punches at Bucky. The Knight kept at her, trying to get hold of her, and managing to grab her into a headlock once or twice and pinning her to the ground.

Bucky grabbed the Knight by the neck, held him up in the air, then threw his whole body right at the Commander, who locked her legs around the Knight’s neck trying to dismantle his visor. The Knight purposely fell to the ground, further injuring Y/N, then in a swift move, she stood up, grabbed her guns from her holsters, and aimed at them both.

The Knight stood on his knees.

And Bucky on his feet, ready to swing his arm at the first one who moves. They paused.

For seconds, none of them moved.

The Commander smiled.

They heard cheers from the men outside the field, chanting their names like they would to an athlete in a game.

The Commander lowered her guns, wiped the sweat off her forehead and smugly spun the firearms around her fingers.

“Next time,” the Knight stood on his feet, then walked over to Y/N. “No more guns.”

“I do just fine without them.”

“Keep telling that to yourself, kitten-“

The Knight stepped in between her and Bucky. “She is your commander. Stop calling her that.”

“I call her whatever she wants me to call her.”

“You want another hit to the gut, jackass?”

“You can try-“

“I can shoot both of you in the head right now if you don’t stop.” The Commander held out both her guns again.

The two men kept their silence, backed away, then walked back out of the field with their heads down without failing to give each other that side glare.

The Knight went over to walk beside the Commander.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t even go there, you ass,” she snarled.

“He’s overstepping his fucking boundaries.”

She faked a laugh. “That’s the Winter Soldier. He’s just like me. He’s just like Deathstroke. And you have no idea just how much he’s exactly like you. And he has tons of experience over any of us in this fucking country. So if you want your militia to have better chances at actually taking over an entire goddamn city, I suggest you suck up your childish jealousy and get over it.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Shut up. We slept together. So what?”

“You talking about me or the hundred-year-old man?”

“Both,” the Commander glared at him, then turned over to walk by Bucky’s side. The Knight looked like he wanted to strangle everything, even a damn puppy.

“Alright,” she said to her men. “Who wants to go next?”

-----

Booze. She found a stash in the Knight’s room days ago and had brought over few into her quarters. Once or twice she sneaks a sip, especially on days like these. She laid on the foot of her bed, leaning against the mattress, and Bucky was right by her side with his own bottle stuck to his mouth like a baby’s pacifier.

“Do super soldiers even get drunk?” the Commander asked.

“The Hydra serum was a rip-off so it doesn’t give me the full effects. I get drunk. But only after four or five times any human person can possibly take,” he laughed. “But until now I barely remember anything other than my name anyway so everyday feels like I’m having a fucking hangover.”

“Being brainwashed must suck.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She took a swig from her bottle, and her mind started to create that familiar buzzing fog that took off the pain in her joints greater than any painkiller she could take.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she touched the tip of her bottle onto Bucky’s nose. “I was starting to get bored.”

“And stressed out. I remember how much you asked me to-“

The Commander bit on his ear, and Bucky laughed before pecking her lips.

“You drunk now?”

“Well,” he looked at the clock. “We’ve been at this for five hours now. So yeah, I think I am-HIC.”

Y/N grabbed his hair, pulled him to her side and started heavily making out with his booze-scented lips. He held her neck, her shoulders, then he trailed down her hips and squeezed as lightly as he could with his steel fingers pushing into her skin. She moaned, and now that she was out of her suit and in her bed clothes, Bucky teased under her waistband.

“Mmm,” she moaned against his lips. “Please-“

“Shh…”

The metal arm. The one thing she still dreamed about every night she could the past year. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when Bucky reached under her panties, cupped her pussy like it was so delicately breakable, and started hovering the steel over her clit and folds. “Fuck…”

“Fucking miss this, kitten?”

“Yes…” she grabbed the mattress behind her, grinded onto the steel like it was a vibrator and felt the ripples into her core. Bucky, eyes red and obviously drunk, kissed her neck and collarbone and shifted so he was sitting in front of her. Y/N spread her legs wide and bit off a scream when Bucky teased her hole.

He started removing her shorts, taking her panties along with it. With the cold air fanning out her cunt, she got even wetter when Bucky leaned in raised her shirt to kiss all over her chest, then crouched over on the ground to kiss down her stomach and pelvis.

Bucky kept his metal hand on her wetness, lathering them all over, then his lips kissed down to her clit. He encircled his mouth around it, gently sucking as his hardened tongue flicked all over it. She screamed out his name, then Bucky inserted two fingers inside her. “Fuck!”

He kept going, mouth on her clit, fingers inside her pussy. The sweet, warm metal contrasting greatly against her flesh. She saw the same stars she always did every time she remembered how Bucky Barnes had given her the best cunninglingus in all of history. She shielded her mouth with her arm, biting into her skin.

BAM!

The door. Only one knock served as a warning, then a strong hand pried it open despite the lock. Bucky shot up and Y/N shielded her bottom with her arms.

The Arkham Knight, in nothing else but a red hoodie and jeans, leaned against the doorway with his own bottle of booze in hand. He didn’t flinch nor look even the slightest bit bothered at the sight before him, and instead rolled his eyes as the two scrambled to cover. He drank from his bottle.

“What the fuck!?”

“You took my booze.”

“Get out.”

“Give me my booze back.”

“Bucky drank it all up.”

Bucky leaned against the bed beside Y/N and snarled at the Knight, who glared back. Y/N pulled her shorts back up. “Don’t have to do that, kitten.”

“Stop fucking calling her kitten.”

“You wanna know why I call her that, asshole?”

“Enlighten me,” the Knight growled.

“’Cuz of the way she just mewls when I use this hand right here-“

“Trust me, I know what she fucking sounds like.”

“You did it with her once, jackass. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Just as I said,” Y/N groaned, pinching between her eyes. “I have an entire armory’s worth of guns stashed in that closet right there and I’m not fucking afraid to use them on either of you morons.”

They both scoffed.

The Knight looked just as drunk as the both of them. And despite Y/N telling him to go out, the Knight walked in, shut the door behind him, then made his way to her bed like he owned the place. He sat down and finished up his bottle, placing it on the ground, then collapsed on the mattress.

Y/N, incredibly horny and her head boiling beyond reason, turned her head over to Bucky.

“I really wanna fuck but this guy’s like a fucking boulder.”

“We can continue. Right here. Fuck that guy.”

“I can fucking hear you,” the Knight groaned, hand over his eyes.

“GOOD!” Bucky called out. “Come on…”

He started kissing Y/N’s neck, but she pushed him away. She’s seen the Knight like this a few times. And only her. Not many got to see his face at all. And when he was like this, hoodie over his head smelling like stale rainwater, she knew something went on. Y/N stood up, ruffling Bucky’s hair as he leaned against the mattress with his eyes closed, then walked over to stand in front of the Knight.

He took his arm off his head, eyed her with his eyes tightly squinted like she was too bright a light in the midst of complete darkness, then propped himself up his elbows. The Commander crossed her arms and took him in.

So hot…

The Knight, slowly, and with his head looking like it was about to topple away from his body, leaned over to Y/N and placed his arms over his knees so he could duck down. Y/N, without thinking much, took hold of his head and craned it up.

His eyes weren’t blank, but they weren’t so expressive either. She couldn’t tell what it was he was thinking, or feeling. But his skin felt burning hot under her touch. She took a step forward, still holding his head.

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t like kissing Bucky. It never had been. He was rougher, so eager to take her and all of her for himself with the movements of his tongue. Bucky was softer and kinder, but all the more wanting.

And in so many ways, they were different, yet eerily the same. They were both, in the worst way possible, taken away from any sort of their humanity, twisted, hurt, bent, until they were no longer in that sane, human demeanor with so much antagonism to show for the world. Nothing but anger. Borderline villains. Brooding bad boys. Dark hair. Blue eyes.

Okay. Maybe she did have a type.

She breathed in, heavy deep breaths, then started to deepen the kiss into something so much more longing. The Knight had his hands on her waist, pulling her to the bed. And on her knees, she went with him, never leaving his lips. The Knight started to lean back, wanting to pull her with him.

But she broke the kiss and gasped as Bucky grabbed her from behind, metal arm around her torso. He kissed her neck, biting, sucking. Y/N leaned against his shoulder and grabbed onto his hair, pulling him to her lips.

And if she weren’t wrong, she swore she felt the Knight growl beneath his breath. He ended up taking his shirt off. They were probably eyeing each other down for all she cared. She kissed Bucky, moaning too hard when his good hand snaked up her shirt, pulling it up. She happily obliged.

When her shirt left her skin, and without a bra in sight, the Knight swooped in and took her lips in his before Bucky could do anything. Y/N started to inch forward, moving the Knight with her, then Bucky took his shirt off and moved over to the bed with them, on his knees, pressing his chest against Y/N’s back just as the Knight as pushing his chest against Y/N’s front.

Holy fuck.

The two hottest men in the fucking universe. And she was sandwiched between them.

Hooooly fuck.

She threw her head back, breathing, moaning inaudible cries. Bucky started for her shoulder licking all the way up her neck, and the Knight pulled on her waist to have at it with her chest, her tits, her nipples sticking out at the burning touches happening all around her. She turned her head back, kissed Bucky while moaning when the Knight slightly bit on her nipples.

She pulled away, grabbed the Knight so she could kiss him on the lips, then Bucky started reaching over her cunt with his metal hand, making her jolt and bite onto the Knight’s lip at the sting of the steel rubbing over her clit like a goddamn vibrator. He kissed her neck, and the Knight bit on her ear. She was on fire. She never felt so alive. Everything was hot. Sweaty. Deep, heavy breaths filing the otherwise silent air.

She pulled away from both of them. She was in control. She could tell with the look on their eyes glaring at the other and worshipping her, determined to make her feel better than the other one ever could. Y/N traced her finger on Bucky’s cheek. “Eat me out, Buck.”

“My pleasure.”

“And you,” she pulled on the Knight’s chest, smirking as he went with it. “I want your cock.”

The Knight grabbed the back of her neck, kissed her so hard she would have fallen over, but she pulled away so she could lie down, Bucky already kneeling in front of her, breath ghosting over her thighs. The Knight pulled down his pants, pulled out his incredible hard on, then positioned himself right beside Y/N’s head.

Bucky lapped at her achingly wet cunt, the tip of his firm tongue drawing hard circles around her clit and letting his drool add up to her wetness. His metal arm, she could feel resting on her stomach. Y/N looked up at the Knight, looking so desirably at her she could feel her skin burn. Her hand wrapped around his cock, pumping ever so slowly and letting her fingers brush against the tip.

Her other hand was on Bucky’s hair, pulling, then the metal arm now snaked down between her legs and she could feel the cold metal deliciously tickle at the throbbing wetness. She moaned, and to conceal them, she hallowed her mouth out and started sucking on the Knight’s dick. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She was the only one fully naked. And yet, she felt so much power, surging through her veins at every stroke of Bucky’s fingers curl up inside her, at every suck on her clit, and at the Knight’s cock lodged in her throat, with half of it being held with her shivering palms. She pulled away to scream when Bucky switched over to let his tongue swirl inside her and his metal fingers rubbing her clit, while her hand still pumping the Knight’s cock. The latter ran a hand through her hair, his soft, human hand so hot against her flesh, and she kept his eyes on him as she moaned and filled her mouth up with his cock.

Faster. Faster. She was about to cum. So hard. She closed her eyes shut and made sure the Knight’s cock was still in her throat as the overpowering gushes of a pleasurable waterfall rained down every hot inch of her flesh. Over and over, like the incoming waves of the ocean continuously flowing. Her moans were concealed, but both men kept their eyes on her as she shook hard and gripped the sheets like her life depended on it.

The Knight didn’t even cum yet. She looked up at him, then at Bucky. She was far from being tired. It only made her want more. Fuck, why hasn’t she done this sooner.

Bucky reached over to kiss her, and she sat up, arms around his neck. He pulled her up until she was leaning into him, on her knees, then he unzipped his pants to let his cock spring free.

Then the Knight was against her back, hands on her ass. She started arching her back so much that her ass felt the Knight’s dick rubbing all across her skin while her tits were rubbing so nicely against Bucky’s chest.

She got on her hands and knees, the Knight pumping his cock with her slick while Bucky pulled her hair out of the way so she was facing directly at his cock. The Knight entered inside her first, the long, painfully delicious drag of his cock drawing the sweetest moans out her lips. Bucky leaned in and kissed her, hard, feeling her moans out with the violent swirling of her tongue. She grabbed onto the sheets, feeling her wetness drip down her thighs. And after a few good thrusts, letting her adjust to his size, Bucky pulled away to replace his lips with his twitching cock.

In. Out. In. Out. In either opening. In a sweet, sultry rhythm. Bucky licked his lips and thrusted into her mouth just as the Knight held onto her hips so harshly she knew she was about to bruise when the night ends. His hips snapped into her ass, in a set momentum that only he had the stamina to maintain (other than a super soldier, of course). It felt so good to be so filled up in either ends. With every pull from the Knight, her mouth dragged along Bucky’s cock with it, drawing moans and hisses from the both of them. This was all too overwhelming. The sight of them both. The water seeping through her eyes. How his fucking magical cock did wonders inside her in so many ways she’s never felt before. It was all so… so…

“Fuck!” she screamed, and already, she came. And unlike last time it came to her like one, giant blow to her body that almost whipped her out of her physicality. Everything went white, and all the clouded thoughts in whatever part of her mind they were hiding, it was all washed away for the instant. Every nerve ending made her shiver, and she stiffed. And the boys didn’t seem to notice, as they kept thrusting inside her still.

Y/N held her hand out, stopping them both. The Knight stopped thrusting and Bucky pulled his cock from her mouth. “Fuck, kitten, did you cum already?”

She fell face down onto the sheets, trying to remember her name.

“See,” the Knight said. “I did that.”

“Fuck you, no you didn’t.”

“Am I right, kitten?” the Knight stressed.

“Only ‘cuz I warmed her up, you ass.”

“You two,” she panted. “Shut up. I want you both inside me.”

“Fuck…” Bucky said.

“Holy shit,” the Knight breathed.

Y/N threw herself onto the mattress, on her side. Bucky laid facing her front and wasted no time to have her lips all to himself. The Knight crept up behind her and started sucking onto her neck. Y/N pulled away from Bucky, letting him bite onto her collarbone, then kissed the Knight with every last ounce of strength she had.

She held his jaw, biting his lip, then pulled away so she could look deeply into his eyes.

Bucky inserted his cock into her pussy, and she hissed at that while the Knight kissed her neck.

Then the Knight, his cock wet from her own juices, ever so slowly slipped into her asshole.

The screams she tried so hard to conceal, and failed to do so. Her leg hooked around Bucky, while her arm was around the Knight’s head. He gained his pace, at her pussy that had adjusted yet still fit him inside her so tightly that Bucky groaned with his lips on hers. The Knight, taking his sweet time at the new, foreign feeling of her ass, both for him and her, slowly started to thrust.

The two cocks, moving inside her in amazingly complimenting rhythms, she took turns in kissing either of them and moved her hips to match their movements. She could feel their cocks dragging against each other through the thin wall between them, at the spot that was so overly stimulated, at the feeling of being so filled up, she couldn’t possibly think of anything there was. She could only feel. The fullness. The overwhelming high that seemed to go on and on.

They must have been awfully hard and so at the edge by then, that it no longer took them as long to cum. Bucky came first, filling her up with so much of his cum that she could just feel it drip down along with her own juices. Then when he kept going, she felt the coil. The fast-burning whicker of a bomb already blown out so many times. The Knight came next, her ass practically leaking with his cum even with him still inside her, and for the third time that night, she came.

And fuck, just as she did, everything went white.

She passed out. For a good five minutes, she laid on her bed, panting without another word. The Knight was just as tired as she was, but with Bucky being a super soldier and all, he didn’t seem too bothered.

When she came back to her senses she sent both men out of her room before any of the militia army’s hundreds of men woke up before them.

-----

The Commander never felt so high up in the clouds and so down beneath the cold hard ground at the same time. Other than the horrible hangover that sent her mind practically elsewhere than the barracks, she wanted to hide at all the thoughts surging through her mind at the memories from the night that she somehow remembered almost every detail as if she weren’t drunk at all. If not, the hangover worsened and her face bubbled up into a deeply flushed red.

It was probably going to be the one thing she’ll think of the most the next time she needs something to get off too. But with the fucking Winter Soldier and the fucking Arkham Knight?

The Winter Soldier. And the Arkham Knight.

Well, she was one hell of a woman for having both of them, that was for sure.

Okay. So she didn’t have a single speck of regret.

But it didn’t make the hangover any better.

The Knight was with her at the meeting room, and the whole time Slade talked, neither of them seemed to listen. The Knight, even when he took this militia as seriously as his own life, when it occupied nothing else throughout his whole day and not another thought could overpower, had drunkenly engaged in a threesome last night and was now too stupidly ashamed and hungover to properly think.

“You two. Get some coffee. I’ll be out.” Deathstroke said as he left the room.

The Commander buried her face into her arms and the Knight took off his visor so he could rub his face with his palms.

Her head was burning, and for so long none of them talked nor moved a muscle. The Commander was the first to get up from her chair. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Your boyfriend wasn’t in his quarters this morning.”

She glared at the Knight, then went out the meeting room. Just as she did, Beckett opened the door and caught her just about to leave.

“Commander-“

“Where’s Bucky? The Winter Soldier? I want to talk to him.”

“That’s uh. That’s the thing, Commander.” Beckett licked his lips. “He got a call this morning and had to leave. Said he’ll only be taking forty thousand dollars for his five days here.”

“FORTY FUCKING WHAT-“ the Knight stammered. And the Commander glared back at him for making her headache even worse. She turned to Beckett. “When is he coming back?”

“He’s uh… He isn’t.”

The Commander shot up.

“He just… left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he leave a letter? Or a call? Anything?”

“No, sir. He just told me to tell you and the Knight. Deathstroke as well.”

Of course. Exactly like last time.

Bucky disappeared without so much as a call. This is all for fun, he once told her. A pastime. Release. Don’t think too much about it.

She knew he was a busy man with his own set of friends and enemies to work with.

But dammit, he could have at least called.

“Thank you, sergeant.”

Beckett left them, and the Commander was stuck standing near the door with her eyes locked onto the empty wall.

The Knight, unknown to her, watched her the whole time. Not a smirk. Not a smug little grin to go with it. He was as silent as her.

Nights after, the Commander laid on her bed, alone as she had been the past few days. She got under her covers and tried what she could to close her eyes and get the sleep she’s been needing for so long. But nothing.

Three knocks on her door.

She opened her eyes, then sat up against the headboard. “It’s unlocked.”

The Knight came in, with just a shirt and jeans on. He leaned against the doorway and the Commander rolled her eyes at him. “You come here to gloat?”

“About what?”

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“What do I have to gloat about?”

“Shut up, Knight.”

She looked away, arms in front of her, but the Knight kept looking at her and coughed. “May I come in?”

Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to argue, and just nodded her head. He closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of her bed.

“You seem to be attached to him.”

“I was fond of him,” she chuckled. “Fond enough to believe something could possibly happen.”

“Really?”

“He’s a good guy. You don’t have to hate him.”

“I do. He’s practically me with chin-length hair and a metal arm.”

She laughed and laid her head against the wall. “He is.”

The Knight kicked his shoes off and laid on the bed next to her. He chose to stare at the same things she was staring. She noticed. Probably to get a glimpse of what went on in her head.

“I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you're thinking.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of thinking of that.”

“Good,” she sighed.

She wasn’t exactly heartbroken. At least, she didn’t think so. She always thought that the moment she was so hurt to the point of that organ tear into pieces, she’ll know it. This. This was practically an equivalent to a teenage crush, except it’s with a really hot guy she slept with a few times, who’s incredibly handsome, has a fucking metal arm, a super soldier. Fuck, he’s dreamy.

But love? Nah. She’d know. She wasn’t in love. Not with a super soldier. Not with a robotic limb. Which meant she wasn’t heartbroken.

And that day will come. Sooner or later. Probably with someone more human, someone she can imagine eating at a small diner with. She turned her head over to the Knight.

“What are you doing here?”

He bit his lips, head against the wall like hers, then smirked.

“I’m here so you wouldn’t drink yourself to sleep and forget you’re here on a job.”

She nudged his shoulder and rolled her eyes, and the Knight grunted a very faint, yet audible laugh. He caught her eyes.

She smiled at him ever so lightly, and even when he didn’t exactly smile back, she thought he was beautiful.

The Knight leaned in, kissed her so softly that it was far too different from any other kiss she’s shared with him. His scent. The one she’d long noticed and wanted to have a closer glimpse at. She pulled herself closer to him.

Laughing as the Knight moved her over on her back, she forgot about everything else there was.

----

and. well. You know what happens next ;) Also I’d like to give credit to the the thirsty hoes in the taglist below who helped me with this fic (most especially @offendedfishnoises, @idkmanicantenglish and @knightfall05x) ((knightfall suggested the intoxication part which was a huge help))

everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11 flowersgirl02 

[myelocin]

storms, they come

synopsis: where love was a give and take battle, and bokuto shows you that sometimes, it’s okay to take the love you’ve spent your whole life giving.

characters: bokuto koutarou, you

genre: fluff, comfort fic

wc: 1300+

a/n: happy birthday bo! and this is for my daughter <3 who deserves nothing but sunshine and clear waters. ily!

-

when bokuto says he’s happy, it doesn’t take much for you to believe it. happiness, for him was winning a game, spiking through a block, eating ice cream on nights where he knows he shouldn’t be, and morning runs in the spring when the smell of morning dewdrops permeate the air the most.

so you believe him every time he tells you that he’s happy—because you can feel it as much as you see it.

then on the other hand, when he tells you that he’s happy because of you, you’d only smile and humor him for as long as he stood in front of you. it’s because he’s kind, you tell yourself, but your heart warms every time either way.

for as long as it’s always been, love, for you has been more of a give than a take.

“i love you,” you’d tell those around you, and every time, your heart would be laced with your words. and you mean it every time too, because you just loved like that. but people, you come to realize, may not return the love you offer with the same sincerity held in their hands. the reality was like that. you were one to always give, but never take.

because love, as the stories of old described it, was supposed to be selfless. and for a while it made sense, but love, you later realize is something that should also fill you instead of drain you.

“just let them go,” you read on magazines often, and at times there would be moments where those feelings sparked something in you and you’d nod your head and try to steel your heart as best as you can. It worked, or at least you think it did, because sometimes letting them go meant doing so after you’ve spent an afternoon listing out their flaws and deleting the messages you’ve archived in bouts of sadness over passed time.

then when you were alone in your room that night, hugging a pillow and scrolling through the photos they post and smile in your absence, that’s when the doubt pokes at the vulnerability you’ve tried to hide from even yourself.

“let them go,” is what an ad says as you scroll further down the rabbit hole you feel stuck in. and letting them go, you realize, just means letting them be. allowing them to grow in a direction that could be different from yours and doing so with a heat that wishes them well as it also tells them goodbye.

and when you did, that’s also when you cross paths with bokuto koutarou.

bokuto who becomes the witness to your journey of self-love as it comes and goes to you in the form of waves. where sometimes, there are mornings where you meet the water half way and the waves under your palms feel as calm as the serenity that floods you with assurance.

and in those moments, where the affirmations come from no one but yourself—that’s when you feel the most in tune with the thought of love and the world.

but sometimes, when you wake up, you find the boat you’re on is already half submerged in deep blue waters that do nothing but rage. and moments like that are what suffocates you the most. because you feel every tug of the water as it pulls you and wills you to sink with the boat.

because telling yourself “i love you,” becomes the hardest to believe in moments of self-doubt when the urge to dive becomes stronger than the urge to continue and to listen to reason.

so it baffles you when one day, instead of waking up to the stormy seas and sinking boat—you don’t.

instead, you’re pulled to a space where even as the heaviness from inside thrums, you find yourself barefoot and almost weightless in open fields that looked as warm as the afternoon glow of the sun.

the sun who walked the earth—your earth—in the form of a man with golden eyes and chimes for laughter.

happiness, is what you saw. sincerity, is what you felt.

in his kind eyes, rough hands, and tender words wrapped in layers of laughter. he always stood in front of you with one arm out, and a promise that felt so secure, and so safe swimming in pools of gold.

gold, like the sun, and its warmth, because when he comes to you in the midst of your stormy seas it feels like the world finally clicks in place.

“is i love you a suggestion or a declaration?” is a question you ask yourself before you plunge.

and the answer comes to you at 23:58 when the waters that have tried to drown you are quelled by the midnight sun on the 20th of september.

“i love you,” bokuto says and you find it a little funny because even though you’re unboxing a cake you bought for his birthday, instead he’s the one who offers you a gift.

his heart, offered for yours to take struck you that this was life’s promise.

because as cruel as life was, in a sense, it was still forgiving. and you come to learn that love was always found in the abstract.

in between the lines of the saddest story that made your heart ache the most—you read about a new beginning. where the quiet moments, that you spend alone trying to patch the holes of your half sunk boat, you see love coming as the break of the clouds as the sun comes and soothes the storm.

in bokuto’s “i love you forever,” as he whispers to you again and again within the quiet walls of your closed apartment, as the meaning of his words—his promise—trickles out until you eventually feel it.

and a promise, you guess it was. but a reminder, you decide to accept it as.

because first, you realize, before you open your heart and write the words he confesses, first you close your eyes, inhale, then smile.

his “i love you, forever,” was life’s reminder to take it easy. to feel love as how it is; how it comes and goes, and allowing it to either linger or fade.

but “i love you,” was also something you needed to tell yourself, because that was your promise. and you smile, because as it ricochets off the walls and back into your ears, you realize that before you accept the sun, its light, and the horizon beyond the water—you first have to tread through the storms within yourself.

then as you exhale, you give him a soft smile that carries your gratitude instead of words.

“i love you forever,” he beams, golden eyes becoming sort of like the midnight sun on your moonlit nights. and he smiles, even though you stay quiet, because he realizes the look in your eyes speak of healing and time.

the breeze hums, candles set ablaze, and the clock ticks back to zero.

“happy birthday, kou,” he hears, your voice soothing like raindrops tapping on a window. he smiles; it’s 00:00 when he realizes that he’s deep in love.

and it’s 00:01 when he steels himself to make a decision that as the sun—for now he’d wait in the sky and clear the storms from above as he waits for you to make it to shore.

because as he blows his candles and makes a wish, he does so with your name on his mind and the hope of your healing in his heart.

- 

love yourself kindly and patiently.

[aiden-png]

may I request: there was only one bed, but there were four restraints ... angst with Blue perhaps

okay okay so this ISN'T nsft, as requested. I had an idea that would make it sort of nsft but I decided to save that idea for somewhere other than tumblr XD so now the warning is for panic (not an attack, but nearly, so I'm tagging as such) so proceed with caution and that in mind <3

Blue focused on his breathing. In and out. That's what Green had said before they'd begun; to breathe and listen. The room was dark, too dark for his eyes to adjust well. Dark and cold, prickling across his skin, like there was someone in the room with him if he could only see them.

Blue twitched, and the bindings against his wrists and ankles strained. He tried to relax back against the stone platform, feeling the chilled stone press through his tunic. In and out, in and out. Blue grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. It was only an exercise, a simple training for if he ever found himself captured. Easy enough, Green hadn't even blindfolded him. He could hear just fine--but not through the beating of his own heart now.

This was supposed to be easy. Fucking child's play, the most basic of soldier training. Leave him shackled and somewhere unfamiliar until it was time for an interrogation. He needed to stay strong, calm, collected. Keep his head on straight so if an enemy ever did capture him, he wouldn't confess any secrets--no matter how tortuous the isolation or interrogation was.

His hands shook. His body trembled from the cold. Blue thought if he could see, his breath would be clouding before him with each shallow gasp.

His tunic stuck to the damp stone beneath him. It felt like ice was seeping through, spider-webbing up his back and down his arms, chilling him to the bone, frozen solid--

A loud screech made Blue flinch, hissing as his head collided with the stone beneath him. Light flooded the chamber and he screwed his eyes shut against it, shaking harder now, the restraints too-tight as he tried to turn away.

When a warm hand pressed against his shoulder, it took all Blue's willpower not to shatter beneath it.

"Blue, you need to breathe," Green's voice was firm, that commanding voice that always broke through. "Come on, follow my lead. You can do it."

Blue sucked in shaking breaths, let out choppy ones. Green carefully undid his wrists and ankles and Blue hissed as warm hands brushed over stinging scrapes.

Slowly, Blue managed to lift himself up. Green gave him some space, but even with his eyes closed Blue could feel him hovering. His heart calmed, breathing evened. Blue stared at his lap and flexed his fingers stiffly, still feeling the ghost of ice in his veins. With golden light spilling in from the door and Green's presence at his side, Blue realized it wasn't nearly as cold as he thought.

He huffed to hide his discomfort. Balled his fists, ignored Green's concerned sigh as he settled down beside him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Blue opened his mouth to reply. No sound came out.

Green's hand rested between his shoulder blades, heat radiating from the contact. He was safe; there was never any danger to begin with.

Blue was too tired to be frustrated though.

"I just..." Blue sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump. "I need more time."

"Don't worry about it," Green hummed with ease. "We have all the time in the world now."

Green's arm slid around and pulled Blue against his side, warm and strong and patient.

For once, Blue didn't pull away.