#his wry smile in the last one 💞

[sainz100]

some Max + the media pen moments via Mariana Gertum Becker's insta

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Burning Love

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 26. Burning Fandom: MCU, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, f!reader Summary: When you and Bucky are captured, HYDRA scientists try to force you to use your powers to kill him. But you refuse to hurt the man you love, regardless of how much pain it may cause you... Word Count: 2171 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Whump, Burning, Torture, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Inflicted Wounds, Laser Beams, Damaged Vision, Bucky Carries Reader, Happy Ending Notes: Thank you to @ohtobeleah for looking this over for me 💞 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

“Doll, please, open your eyes.” The desperation in Bucky’s voice as he pleads with you breaks your heart, but it’s better than the alternative if you comply with his wishes.

You twitch your head as much as the leather restraint across your forehead will allow, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Through gritted teeth, you grunt, “Not gonna happen, Sarge.”

The pain coursing through you is horrible, but knowing what it would do to Bucky if you gave in is enough to make it bearable—somewhat. Unlike his body, yours is more equipped to handle the damage caused by the laser beams you can shoot from your eyes. While it has taken maybe an hour to get to this point—where your eyelids and surrounding skin are charred, bubbly, and blackened like a flamed-broiled marshmallow—you would have cut through Bucky’s flesh in seconds. Which is why you are fighting so hard to protect him from your open eyes. 

“Turn it off,” a frustrated voice growls behind you. “We'll have to try something else.”

The searing sensation in your eyes disappears and you shift against the numerous restraints holding you into the metal chair. It feels so violating to have these HYDRA scientists hooking you up to their machinery, digging through your brain, and activating your beams as they see fit. You wonder if this is how Bucky used to feel back when he was the Winter Soldier.

As the scientists fiddle with the equipment behind you, you hear a tender voice call out to you. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain,” you mumble. “How you doing, Buck?” The last thing you saw before you began forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed was Bucky being strapped into his own chair directly across from you.

“Horrible. Watching you barbeque yourself just to spare me…Doll, you can’t keep doing this. You won’t survive it much longer.”

You gave him a wry chuckle. “I’ve been accidentally burning myself with these things my entire life. I can take it.”

“For how long?” You don’t answer. “Please, look at me. I need to see you’re okay behind all of this.”

As much as you want nothing more in this world than to stare into Bucky’s loving gaze one last time, it’s not worth the potential cost. “I can’t. They could turn them back on at any second and…I can’t risk it.” 

“I’m not worth all the pain they’re putting you through. I don’t deserve this kind of sacrifice—not after everything I’ve done.”

Smiling in his direction, you whisper, “When will you stop blaming yourself for what they made you into and see the man you truly are? The man I love.”

It sounds like Bucky is about to say something else but, before he can, an angry voice from behind you barks out, “I’m tired of this game. Increase the power.”

Bucky screams, “No!”

Suddenly, the pain behind your eyes increases exponentially and the pressure within your head becomes unbareable. An inhuman screech is ripped from your lips. Something in your vocal cords snaps under the strain. You smell the faint whiff of burning hair mixed in with your cooking flesh and wonder if the last of your eyelashes have finally been seared off. Your bare toes scrap against the cold concrete as they involuntarily curl as all the muscles in your body contract. Every other part of your body is restrained by the straps holding you down, but you begin violently shaking as the tension within you becomes too great.

The small part of your mind that’s still coherent wonders if your eyes roll back into your head if you’ll fry your brain and end this torture. Maybe it is worth it to try.

You have no idea how long they keep your beams on this time—all your remaining focus and energy is on keeping your eyes closed. Bucky is screaming, crying, begging, but his voice sounds echoey and far away so you can’t make out his words. You aren’t sure what HYDRA will do to him once you’re gone, but you pray he fights them with everything he has.

Finally, the machine behind you is flipped off and your body sags against your restraints. Without them, you know you’d topple to the floor, no longer possessing the energy to hold yourself up. Everything hurts now, not just your eyes. But you’re still alive which means you aren’t done fighting.

You hear footsteps approaching and you recognize the voice of the man in charge as he curses, kicking one of the legs of your chair. “This is ridiculous. How many of you fucking idiots does it take to make her kill the Soldier? Just pry her eyes open, clamp them in place, and turn the machine back on.”

You grin weakly, feeling blood dripping down your chin where you had bit your tongue. With your ruined voice, you croak, “You can try, but the second any of you put a finger near my eyes, I’m burning it off.” 

The man beside you yanks on the restraint across your forehead, tightening it to the point you feel bones crack. You let out a soft whimper as the man growls, “Fine. We’ll turn it up to full power and leave it on. Let her burn completely through her eyelids. Then we’ll get the results we want.” You hear him turn and march away.

For the first time, your resolve wavers as a small sob bubbles up in your chest. Your body may be resistant to your beams and can repair wounds sustained from them, but it takes time. If these scientists can make you burn through your eyelids—and based on how everything is starting to look a little brighter through your closed lids, it seems like a very real possibility—then there is nothing you can do to stop them from hitting and killing Bucky. 

You hear the scientists murmuring and fiddling with equipment somewhere far behind you, but you still don’t dare open your eyes in case someone is still at the machine and flips it on the moment you look at Bucky. Yet it won’t matter for much longer if they carry out their plan. 

“Doll…” The word is whispered so low you can barely hear it.

“Buck…,” It’s hard to whisper with your ruined voice, the sound more of a croak than a real word. But you hope he can understand you with his super-soldier hearing. “I’m sorry. I-I can’t stop this.”

“I know. You’ve done so good so far.” Even in a whisper, the love in his voice feels like a comforting embrace. “But I have a plan. You just gotta trust me.” 

“I do. You know I do.” 

“Then when I tell you to open your eyes and turn on your beams, whether they’re making you or not.”

You sob, “But Bucky—”

“Trust me!” he hisses. 

“Okay…okay, I’ll do it.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Doll. Whatever happens, I love you. And this isn’t your fault.”

A single tear escapes your ruined eyes and rolls down your scared cheek. “I love you too. But we both know, it is.”

Bucky doesn’t respond. However, you can hear a soft scraping and shuffling from his vicinity. Maybe he found a way to escape. Or maybe…he couldn’t be asking you to kill him. After all the pain and suffering you’d put yourself through to keep him alive, he wouldn’t have you take him out now just to end both of your pain…would he?

But you promised to trust him and you do, so when you hear him mutter, “All the way down and to the right. Now!”, you follow his instructions.

Shifting your gaze behind closed lids as far to the right and downward as they’ll go, you open your eyes and blast without a second's hesitation. 

Your beams strike Bucky in the center of his left forearm, just a few inches above his wrist. Even though it is his metal arm, you are horrified. You thought he had found a way to get you to blast open his cuffs or melt his chair, and in a way, even killing him instantly would be better than this. His vibranium arm is advanced enough that it still allows him to feel sensations such as texture, pressure, and—what concerns you in this situation—temperature and even pain. Instead of ending his life with one blast, you are now forcing him to endure the same agony you have been going through. 

As the metal begins to glow under the intense heat of your beams, you want to screw your eyes shut once more. But Bucky told you to do this and you promised to trust him. Even though he is grunting and panting because of the pain, he isn’t telling you to stop so you keep your beams focused on his arm. 

Eventually, the red-hot glow expands and soon reaches his wrist. In moments, the metal restraint liquifies and Bucky wrenches his arm free. Without having to be told, you slam your eyes shut once more.

You can hear the sounds of fighting all around you: guns firing until their clips run empty, flesh sizzling against metal followed by screams of agony, bodies being flung around the room and crashing to the floor. 

But then everything goes silent.

For a minute, nothing happens. You are just about to call out when a pair of lips press lightly against yours. Jumping slightly, you quickly recognize the kiss. You try to lean into it but the strap across your forehead holds you firmly in place. 

Parting from your lips and pressing his forehead against yours, Bucky whispers, “It’s okay. You can open your eyes now. It’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The world is cloudy and out of focus with huge black spots obstructing your vision. And yet, there was no mistaking the person kneeling in front of you. 

Weakly, you smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmurs back.

“H-how bad?”

Bucky’s brow furrows as he runs his thumb gently around the edge of your eye socket, the now cooled metal somewhat soothing against your damaged skin. “It’s really bad, but I’m hoping it’s worse than it looks. Once you get checked out—”

“Not me,” you whisper. “How badly did I hurt you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t make it out. “I’ve had a lot worse. And it’s because of you that it was as minimal as it was. You should’ve just vaporized my head from the very start.” 

“Nah. I knew we’d find a way out eventually.”

“Liar,” he teases. Then, with a more serious tone, he asks, “How’s your vision? You’re blinking an awful lot and that can’t be comfortable.”

You try to think of how to describe what you are seeing. “I can see some shapes, colors, movements…that’s about it. No details. But even that’s a miracle at this point. I’ve never burned myself this badly before.”

“Will they…will they heal?”

You try to shrug but you are still strapped to the chair. “They should. They always have before. Healing the burns is tied into my powers.” You swallow and flinch at the sharp stab of pain cutting down your throat. “My voice, however, might be another story.”

Bucky gently runs his fingers down the side of your neck. “I’m sure SHIELD has some specialists who can help you. But first, we’ve got to get back to them. So let’s get you out of that chair.”

He began unlocking each of your restraints and you can’t stop a moan from escaping. Your skin had been rubbed raw where the metal dug into your skin, and your muscles ache from how tensely they had been clenched in pain. Bucky must have noticed this, because as he undoes each strap, he massages the area, loosening up the muscles enough to ease some of the tension. But every inch of you still throbs in pain. 

As Bucky unlatches the last restraint, he asks, “Do you think you can walk?”

“I’m not sure. Everything hurts. But maybe once I get going—” You try to rise from the seat but barely make any progress before collapsing back down. You look up at Bucky sheepishly. “I guess that’s a no.”

Carefully, he lifts you into his arms and carries you towards the exit. You can’t see where you’re going and the slight bobbing of your vision as he walks is giving you a headache. 

Leaning your head against his chest, you let your damaged eyes drift softly closed. Then you mutter, “I think I need to sleep for a bit. Helps my recovery time.”

You feel Bucky’s lips brush against your temple. “Rest, Doll. I’ll take it from here.”

Nodding softly, you begin slipping into a deep slumber. You are still in a lot of pain, but you don’t regret a single moment of what happened. You’d do it all again if at the end you could be safe in Bucky’s arms once more.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Konig and 141 boys hearing "Ok, boomer" from a younger so. Not in a mean way, though, but as a joke. Maybe they disagreed on something. Ty so much.

ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʙᴏᴏᴍᴇʀ﹖

Task Force 141 (+König) + gn! reader

OMG. I LOVE THIS IDEA. AHHHH thank you for the request Anon! Hope you enjoyyyy💞💞💞

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König

As you and König sat on the couch, engaged in a passionate debate about the merits of modern technology, your voices filled the room. The topic at hand was the increasing reliance on smartphones and social media, and the generational gap between you was apparent.

"Well…" König stated firmly, his voice laced with skepticism, "You are too consumed by your smartphones. Back in my day, we didn't have these distractions."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, come on, König. You're sound like a boomer."

Silence filled the air and you watched as König's expression shifted from one of determination to confusion. His brows furrowed, and they fell into deep thought, comprehending your remark. The room grew quiet as könig processed the joke, his mind caught between questioning if it was satire or an actual insult.

Ten minutes passed, each second filled with mounting tension and anticipation. Finally, König broke the silence, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Y/N" he said cautiously, their eyes meeting yours "did you mean that as a joke?"

A mischievous grin spread across your face as you reassured him "Of course, König! It was just a playful jab, nothing more. I didn't mean any harm." You didn’t think he would really think about your statement.

König's shoulders relaxed, and a chuckle escaped their lips. "I suppose I still have much to learn about your sense of humor." he admitted with a smile. "But let me tell you, the world can be a serious place. Sometimes it's good to find a balance between tradition and progress."

You nodded in agreement. His last sentence just proved your point but you don’t say anything. You just smile at him because he looks adorable when he tries to lecture you about random things.

Simon Riley

Simon and you never really fought since you both are scared at the thought of screaming at each other. But one day, as you engaged in a spirited debate about a current topic, a disagreement emerged between you and Simon. The tension crackled in the air as opposing viewpoints clashed. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you playfully say "Okay boomer."

Simon's brow furrowed in confusion, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for a clue. "Boomer?" he repeated, his voice tinged with genuine puzzlement. "I'm not that old! Compared to Price, I'm practically a baby compared to him."

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips let a wheeze escape, realizing the misunderstanding. "Oh, Simon" you replied, laughter dancing in your voice. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean it literally." you continued to laugh.

Relief washed over Simon's face, replaced by a wry grin. "Ah, I see" he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You certainly know how to keep me on my toes, don't you? But next time, warn me before you unleash your arsenal of jokes."

You playfully nudged him, the camaraderie between you reigniting. "Deal" you replied, your eyes sparkling. "Consider yourself warned, Lieutenant Riley. From now on, I'll make sure to give you a heads up before I unleash any more jokes."

As laughter filled the room, the tension disappeared, replaced by a sense of shared Love.

John MacTavish

The two of you found yourselves engrossed in a lively debate, each passionately defending your respective opinions. The air crackled with the sparks of disagreement as the conversation grew more intense. And just when it seemed like the tension would overwhelm the room, you couldn't help but blurt out "Okay boomer" as a joke.

John's reaction was utterly priceless. His usually composed demeanor shattered like a clay pot dropped from a rooftop. A wheeze escaped his lips, followed by a burst of uncontrollable laughter. His shoulders shook and he clutched his sides, struggling to catch his breath..

Your eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of shock and amusement playing on your face. John's laughter was too funny and soon, you found yourself doubled over, laughter escaping your lips.

The room echoed with your laughter. The weight of the disagreement lifted, overshadowed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Time seemed to stand still as the two of you laughed, tears streaming down your faces, muscles aching from the sheer force of your amusement.

Finally, as the laughter began to subside, John wiped a tear from his eye and managed to compose himself. His voice still tinged with residual chuckles, he says"That... that was unexpected." And soon you forgot about the disagreement and talked about something else.

John Price

You and John spent as much time together as you can. It became clear that your perspectives on certain matters didn't always align. One day, during a discussion about a topic with Kids and if they should have an iPad at such a young age for school, you both had different views.

"Okay boomer." you finally say as John said something only and older person would say.

Price raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by your response. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, his voice laced with confusion. "Boomer, am I? I may be old, but I'm not that old. Don't underestimate me."

Your laughter escaped your lips, filling the air that even John couldn't resist. He watched you, a mixture of confusion and amusement playing across his features.

"What's so funny?" he asked, unable to contain a smile of his own.

You composed yourself, wiping away tears of laughter. "John, it was just a joke."

Price's stern expression softened, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Ah, I see. So, it's just a harmless jab, then?"

You nodded, still chuckling. "Exactly." you said.

Price leaned back, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, I'm glad we got that cleared up."

Kyle Garrick

One sunny afternoon, as you and Kyle lounged around the base, the topic of conversation took an unexpected turn. A lively debate came up with you expressing your opinion and Kyle fervently defending his own.

"Okay boomer," you exclaimed.

A look of mock outrage crossed Kyle's face as he showed offense. "Hey now, I'm not even old! I‘m not even 30?" he replied, defending himself.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the air. He looked amused and in that moment he understood that it was satire and you didn’t mean it actually.

Kyle's expression softened, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You!" he said letting out a chuckle himself.