#how many of us have felt the cold metal of an ice pick?

[piss-stained-jorts]

it's an unfair tragedy that you were born into a world that doesn't want/know how to help you yet

[hellishjoel]

red

1.3k / pairing: javier peña x f!reader

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summary: Javier Peña doesn't love in black and white - he loves in red. warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), allusions to some smutty vibes but no smut, javi in love, reader is described having hair and wears a dress and heels, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: this is for the lovely @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! congratulations baby <3 this is an ode to you! I was dutifully given the prompt of forehead kisses - and if anyone gives good forehead kisses (see example above) it's obviously javi. lastly thank you @saradika-graphics for the banner!

You’ve got your red dress on tonight. 

The one that paints your body in confidence and allure. Dusted in a silky, satin red. 

Javi’s never had a favorite color until now. 

Your mere presence demands attention and captures the longing gazes of all who inhabit the room you grace with your stride. You dazzle, you shine, and you’re self-assured.

Your anniversary falls on a rainy night in Bogotá. Thunder claps outside, echoing each step he takes up your apartment stairwell. He brings red roses, a fresh bouquet to honor the importance today holds. 

One year. That’s four seasons of love that Javier has never felt before. 

He wraps his rough knuckles against your door and listens patiently to your delicate steps on the other side. 

“Oh, Javi,” you breathe with a pearly smile, “they’re beautiful.” You thank him with a kiss on his stubbled cheek and he squeezes your hip in return, feeling the soft satin of your dress dancing beneath his fingertips. 

That fucking red dress. 

It transports him to a warm summer night, where the sun blazed an orange-yellow hue across the horizon. Ice-cold drinks giving him the courage to ask you for a dance. Your perfume, that smile, those eyes. Dancing in close proximity, your bodies dripping in sweat as Javi took the lead, your heels clicking across the old wood floors of the cantina. But that was many moons ago. The first dress he ever saw you in, still his favorite. 

“Anything for you, hermosa.” 

And he knows you by now. Knows to make a late dinner reservation to allow you extra time to get ready. It’s a process, you’ve told him. He sits at the edge of your bed and watches you in silent admiration. 

Your bedroom is cloaked in darkness, the only illumination coming from the candlesticks, their gentle orange flames flickering in the breeze wafting through the open balcony doors. Outside, raindrops perform a delicate dance on the metal roof, creating a mesmerizing symphony of tinny notes.

Like an angel, you float across the room. Where are your wings? Where is your halo? Maybe left long ago in that cantina where you traded them for Javi. But you’re still an angel in his eyes, the most beautiful goddess he’s ever seen, the woman he praises day and especially night. In the lap of his lover, he is never alone.

He notes how articulately you pick your accessories, bringing earrings up to your lobe and seeing how they complement the look. Maybe a necklace—no, the bracelet he bought you a few months back. He smirks at the sight, and you catch his gaze in the vanity mirror. 

Javi wonders why he showers you with gifts - maybe a hint of possession, more so that he thinks you deserve the finer things he can offer you. And you’ve always been so gracious and excited with every gift wrap you delicately tear or ribbon you untie. Money doesn’t matter compared to that million-dollar smile. 

“Javi, pick my perfume for me, will you?” 

And now, getting ready becomes a two-person job. But he likes this part; he likes dressing you up, picking your lingerie in the shops, and choosing which heels you wear. There's an undeniable allure in your reliance on him, allowing him to fulfill the role of being essential in your life. Needed. 

He chooses a sweet-scented perfume—not blossomy, more like vanilla and cinnamon—sweet enough to fit your personality, thick enough to make him drunk on you. With his eyes closed and lost in a room full of people, he could find you. And he would. 

“Heels?” He offers, already opening your closet and staring at the different colored stilettos and slingbacks. 

“Yes, please, baby.” You coo, delighting in his attentive presence as the melody of your perfume fills the air, each spritz a tender caress upon your neck, shoulders, and a playful touch in your tousled hair.

He bends down to one knee and guides your hand on his shoulder. 

You hum sweetly, nails grazing the back of his neck and gently scratching the base of his scalp. His jet-black hair is soft and thick, weaving perfectly between your fingers. 

He wasn’t always like this, so warm. He was all the things he wanted to appear as, strong and confident. But that was all an exterior façade, one that took months to slowly chip away at like a chisel to marble.

A boulder was in place of his heart, only growing larger and harder with trauma. Each painful memory, each betrayal and loss added another layer to the stone, making it more impenetrable and cold. Eventually, the weight of it threatened to crush his spirit entirely, leaving him numb and distant from the world around him.

But then you came along, chipping away at the hardened exterior with your warmth and kindness. Your presence began to erode the layers of pain and sorrow, softening the edges of the boulder. Slowly, bit by bit, you managed to reach the core of his heart, bringing light and hope where there had once been only darkness.

Javier Peña had fallen in love. 

“You’re so handsome, Javi,” you praise, “I love you.” The sentiment never grows old. You feel Javi’s head move in and gently place a kiss on the inside of your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. Goosebumps quickly sprinkle across your skin. He always has such an effect on you. 

“Estoy enloquecido por ti,” Javi purrs as he lifts your ankle and slips the heel onto your foot, careful fingers buckling the strap around your ankle. You point your toes admiringly, allowing him to work on the next heel. 

As he stands, his fingers skim up your sides and his height looms over you. His cologne melts your inhibitions, forcing a subtle sigh from cherry-lacquered lips. 

His forehead rests against yours, letting the magnetic charge between you both finally reach its peak. His nose brushes against your own, mascaraed lashes fluttering closed. 

Just as Javi moves in to place a kiss on your lips, you’re quick to gently rest a hand against his chest. The moment pauses and your eyes dance. 

“I just put my lipstick on,” You whisper and softly giggle. 

Javi breaks into a small smirk. His woman has priorities. 

The lipstick is a fantastic red, soft, and a little dangerous. It's subtle, but also not subtle at all. Like the color was made for you, a perfect shade that heightens your beauty and charisma. You’re an artist, the way you perfectly glide the lipstick across your pillow-soft lips; not a smudge or mistake is made. 

“You’re right, mi querido.” Javier reroutes his path, closes his eyes, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The subtle gesture is just as good as a kiss to the lips, maybe even better. It wraps around you like a warm hug and it stays there long after he’s gone. Your insides dance with a delightful flutter, a warmth cascading down your spine, enveloping you in a sensation akin to heaven itself.

You nuzzle your nose against his own and sigh peacefully, feeling Javier’s arms tighten around your waist. 

“Do you like my dress, Javi?”

He playfully hums as his fingers teasingly graze the fabric, gently squeezing the globes of your ass beneath it.

“Love it,” he damn near growls. 

You swiftly swat his wandering hands away, sensing his desire to tug at the material. If you stay in your bedroom any longer, you fear you’ll miss the standing dinner reservation you’ve had for well over a week. 

You reward him with a kiss on his neck and you distantly taste his aftershave. 

Javi adores the beautiful mark you leave on his neck, a lingering stain that refuses to be simply wiped away with a napkin and water. It remains a constant reminder of you until he showers, and he thinks about you all over again. You’re forever there, forever his. 

He stares at your figures in the mirror, wrapped up in one another.  

One kiss on his tan skin, and he’s no longer Javier Peña. He’s yours. 

Yours in red. 

[mistydeyes]

Mission gone wrong ?

Where reader and ghost are stuck in Oymyakon during winter,freezing in the snow waiting for backup?

ahhhh anon! thank you so much for this request!! i love the idea so much (like cmon who wouldn’t want to be stuck w simon in a cabin)

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summary: After the mission goes completely south, you and Ghost are left trudging through the wintery landscape of Oymyakon. When you finally arrive in the comfort of a secluded cabin, you two try to make light of the situation.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, violence

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"Just a little bit further," Ghost encouraged as you trudged through the meter-high snow. His voice echoed across the frozen landscape. As far as the eye could see, there were sparse trees coated in a heavy blanket of snow and ice. Getting away from the guns and snowmobiles was half the battle but now you were making the expedition to this fabled safe house. Out of all the missions you had with him, of course, this one had to go to absolute shit. "That's what you said 30 minutes ago," you mumbled, following in his large footprints. You had lost feeling in your lower extremities and you wondered how he could continue. With every step, you could feel pins and needles shoot through your sore body. Your breath felt harsh on your knitted balaclava and you secretly envied the many layers of fabric and silicone of Ghost's infamous mask. "If you quit complaining, it'll make the journey quicker," he said and you could tell the bastard had a smirk on his face. "God I hate Oymyakon."

Eventually, you could see a small cabin on the edge of your vision. "A mirage in the cold desert," you could hear Ghost joke and you picked up the pace. "Price did say this was isolated," you said through your chattering teeth, finally seeing the full picture of the home in arm's reach. You gripped the cold padlock in your gloved fingers and inputted the memorized set of coded numbers. Ghost shoved the iced-over door and gave way into the darkened, freezing cabin. "Home sweet home," you joked half-heartedly as you checked the bare-bones setup. Safe houses were all the same, only having the most simple of necessities and furnishings. As Ghost rummaged for a life-saving space heater, you looked through the cabinets to see if there were any food or hand warmers. The metal handle felt frigid on your fingertips and you saw two sizable mugs at home on the empty shelf.

"How romantic," Ghost said behind you and you jumped at the sudden baritone of his voice, "You gonna make us some tea?" You rolled your eyes at his typical British humor. "Maybe, if you got that space heater working," you replied and he gestured exaggeratedly to the small glowing machine that lit up the living room. "Speaks for itself," he smirked and you rolled your eyes before brushing past him to warm yourself. You took off your frozen boots and shook out your socks and jacket before you were left in your thermals under your gear. You could hear Ghost rummaging around in the adjacent bedroom before returning with two blankets. "No clothes but I do have these," he said and held up the flannel blankets. You nodded and he added his outerwear and gear next to yours.

As you sat wrapped in your blankets, you watched the snowfall and wind whip through the air. "If we weren't stuck here, this would actually be nice," you smiled as you stretched out your fingers in front of the space heater. "I got a cabin up in the Isle of Sky," he mentioned, "if we make it out of here, remind me to take you there." You beamed up at him and nodded eagerly at the offer. "That's in Scotland, right?" you asked and he let out a small grunt in confirmation. "This isn't some boy's cabin you and Soap share, right?" you questioned and he chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. "Fuckin' hell, I'd never," he swore, "just something I bought with a Lieutenant's salary." You thought for a moment before responding to his initial offer. "Well then, is that an offer for a romantic getaway, Lt?" you questioned and he quickly looked away from you. Despite the dim lighting of the room, you could see the subtle hint of pink on his ears. "Depends, hopefully evac gets here before we freeze to death." You shared a dry laugh as you continued to look out the window.

Before you knew it, the sun had set over the horizon and your body began to shut down from the day's events. You tried to suppress your yawn in your blanketed arm but Ghost noticed your small action. "You should sleep, there's one bed in the room over there," he gestured as you laughed softly. "Only one bed?" you smirked and you could almost hear his eye roll. "Not the time," he mumbled before he moved his hand in dismissal, "I'll keep the first watch." You got up slowly and dragged the blanket behind you. You reached the doorway and turned to him, wishing him a quiet goodnight. As you settled into the warm sheets, you turned to face the doorway and smiled as you saw Ghost perched over the small heater. If there was anything that was motivating you to survive, it was the potential to spend a weekend in a snowy cabin with Simon and no threat of danger.

[hernakedmuse]

Speaking in Tongues

Part VI

Disclaimer: I'm sorry I update this one so much, honestly it's just always in my head and I'm obsessed with Minka's wardrobe. But now I'm like having total writer's block with this one at the moment.

Also not many warnings in this one just allusions to sexual situations, it's an adult story so avert your eyes please if you get offended.

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Minka's POV 

"I have to go home, come on monkey, stop being silly." I chastised the handsome man who was behaving like a child.

He has hidden my clothes and is standing there with his arms folded. He looks so handsome with that stubborn look on his face, blocking the door.

"You're not, not yet, please?" He then made his way over to me and I backed away. "No, no I know that look. Don't seduce me to stay in your castle, beast." Timothée cornered me, his imposing presence looming over me before he pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek then my lips and I whimpered. I was reminded of how good they felt on my neck. 

His hands slipped beneath the borrowed Bauhaus shirt I wore. Feeling the cold metal of his rings on his fingers was arousing. "Chouchou, please…postpone it, I've made dinner reservations for us…" he nuzzled my throat and my heart was racing, my heaving breasts were forcibly pressed against his chest by how close his body was to mine. 

"Where?" I found myself asking. 

"It's a surprise, but I'll have your outfit ready and your favorite bottle of wine too "

"Sparkling Syrah?" Oh he plays dirty. 

"But of course, little moth." He slid his hands up my naked thighs.

"You play dirty, I'll text Stone." 

He smirked and licked where he left his mark on me on my neck. I whined, I lost and knew it. It was his game and he made the rules after all…

…

It was a gown, but hardly. A black, completely sheer, primrose floral velvet, devoted, one shoulder, kaftan dress designed by Tom Ford.  There's a high slit that exposes a generous portion of my thigh. And nothing was underneath except for a black, elegant floral lace, Agent Provocateur thong. My ample breasts were completely exposed to any eye. The heels were Tom Ford' gold padlock ones, and by the same designer there's gold soaked padlock earrings to match. My scent he chose for me was their private blend of Vanille Fatale.  I painted my lips a dark plum and did my eyes with smoky lilac like a flapper. 

I walked out of the bathroom that was more like a dressing room. "Koza, I have no purse-" but I stopped as I looked down to see lavender rose petals making a path to the balcony, spa smelling candles were the only light guiding me and the soft romantic music of Gene Loves Jezebel played from outside. 

"Timothée?" A smile threatened to tickle my lips. I walked out onto the candle lit balcony that had a beautifully dressed handsome Timothée standing by an ornately decorated table. The round table is draped in white cloth, antique candelabras, a vase of lavender and orange roses. A bottle of sparkling red by Rosa Regale in an ice bucket, there was brick oven pizza with prosciutto and arugula.  There were some French and Italian  cheese board goodies too.

"Monkey, what is all of this–" Timothee quickly made his way over to me. He slid an arm around me and his large hand rested on my hip and he kissed my jaw and then my lips, in a way that made me a little empty headed. He rubbed my hip and pulled back a little to look at my body and licked his lips. "Damn." I giggled at his reaction.

"I thought we were gonna go out with my tits out. Such a daring choice.'' I brushed a curl out of his face and fixed the collar of his black blazer. I picked a piece of lint off of his collar, he looks so fucking delicious.  Beneath the crisp blazer was a black, sheer mesh top that provocatively displayed his nipples and he had the black high waist trousers that cinched in so razor sharp. I felt easily seduced and started kissing his neck.  Both of his hands were on my waist and he was holding them in such a tight grip his nails dug through the fabric.

"I'd never let you wall out like this." He raped as I sucked on his incredible smelling neck.

"So possessive already?" I teased in his ear.

His hands slid down to my ample backside. 

"Hell yeah baby," his voice deepened. "I can't taste you and not want to keep you. We fit together so well." He slapped my ass and I whined. "It's like we were made for each other like you were made for me." He ended weakly.

I felt dizzy and deliciously weak, my body pressed against his sweet smelling hard one. He was massaging my ass lazily. "I've gone out in less."

"I know, I've seen you…I was always there watching you." He said quietly. 

I felt my body set on fire, that was creepy in the hottest way. His arousal was pressing against me and I shivered. "Let's try and get through a meal without fucking, monkey." I breathed.

He chuckled and dipped me a bit as he pulled me against him, his laughter brushed against my neck as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "No promises, chouchou."

–

Timothée's POV 

It wasn't until a week later that I allowed her to leave my house. 

The brutal adjustment of leaving our cozy little cocoon was a lot, and not just on me but my little moth as well. As we finished getting dressed she watched me from my bed, the bed we spent seven days in, her big lilac eyes looked so forlorn and her pouty bottom lip trembled in anticipation of a cry. I felt my nose sting with upcoming tears as well, shockingly enough. How quickly we have become so dependent on one another, just to breathe, only to exist.

She's such a beautiful little crier. I had her clothes brought here after the third day, right now to block out the weirdly cold southern Californian autumn, she wore a chic, oversized, black and cream vertical striped turtleneck. Her shapely bottom and legs were encased in high waist, creamy white Ulyana Sergeenko jeans with black leather tapered at the top, black and white juicy couture Georgette heels showed off her pedicured dark amber colored toes. The only jewelry she adorn was a black vegan leather gold heart watch, gold Moschino peace earrings, and…my diamond snow leopard ring. I have taken a liking to her wearing at least one item of mine.

Her makeup was matte and in her typical vamp style, black lipstick and black mascara. I slid down onto my knees and moved between her legs, my elbows resting on her legs and she immediately cradled my face in her incredibly soft hands, stroking the bones that formed my face with such tenderness.  She smells too good, like her woody and earthy Laurel Canyon perfume, and her sweet English lavender soap. I laid my head on her lap and my face close to her clothed center. We've made love twice this morning and fucked three. "Why do you have to go?"

"Monkey, you have work today, you're filming remember?" She spoke so soft and sweet and I nuzzled her thighs. "And I have to meet with my manager who isn't happy with you right now, and have lunch with Anya-"

I scowled and lifted my head. "Anya." I spat.

She frowned, we went over this yesterday.  Anya Taylor-Joy is one of my little moth's best friends, but Minka used to have a crush on her, they fooled around and she convinced me there's nothing there between them anymore. Anya does seem enamored with her rock star boyfriend but I can't stop this large green beast from trying to swallow me whole. "I'm sorry." I apologized to her and raked my hand through my hair. I helped her up onto her feet, now I was towering over her. I took off my baseball cap and put it on her pretty bob in backwards fashion before kissing her gorgeous little face. Her beauty is a huge problem. "Perhaps I should get you pregnant so you would have no choice but to stay by my side."

She giggled like it was a joke. It wasn't. "Koza, I'll be back okay?" She took my hand leading me outside. Her assistant, her little brother Stone, was waiting outside by a 1985 teal corvette.  She squeaked when I lifted her a little and pulled her into a bone crushing muscle bruising hug. I kissed her and I was greedy with it, and I bit over the violet bruise I gave her on her neck. She cried weakly and winced. I smiled and licked the abused skin. She tangled her fingers in my hair. "Pick me up at eleven tonight, okay?"

I grinned and kissed her again. "Okay deal!" She pried herself out of my unbearable hold to scurry off to her sibling. "Don't forget about me while I'm away at war!" She teased before hopping in. They were gone so fast, she was gone so fast. Meanwhile I needed to try and remember who I was before Minka Farrah slipped into the bathroom at Chateau Marmont.

@meetmyothersouls @sufferingstarlight

[madeofthreads]

His teams final trial had been special. A VR test. The first time they had done that - and mastered it. Though it had felt so realistic. So disgusting. Glenn could've sworn he needed a shower afterwards from all the monster guts having splattered on him in VR.

But this new tech also was SO fascinating... of course Glenn wanted to show Leif. He practically dragged his brother into Shinra HQ on one of his visits to Midgar, not shutting up about this VR stuff. It was late evening, no one would mind.

Leading Leif into that training hall, Glenn was almost giddy.

"I swear, its insane, you just gotta look! It feels so real! They said they made the program up out of past missions that really happened!"

Scrolling through the computer, Glenn was surprised how many new missions he seemingly had unlocked with advancing in rank.

He picked the surroundings of Gongaga. The VR kicking in, creating trees and leaves out of nowhere. Thick, heavy warm wind in their faces. The roar of a monster that came charging through the undergrowth.

Glenn chuckled, changing to some other random mission.

The ice plains close to Icicle Inn. Snowflakes falling down, leaving little cold pinpricks on their skin. 'Exterminate 50 monsters within the time limit.' was the robotic announcement to this.

"Pretty cool, huh?", Glenn boasted, again switching to a random picked program.

The lightpanels changing, the snow stopped - instead making up their new surroundings. Rocks, Cliffs. A running river down below. A bridge spanning out in front of them. The air was thick and red dark with smoke and embers flying.

The heat of fire could be felt. There were voices. Screaming and shouting. Humans.

There immediately was an uneasy feeling. This was different from the former VR missions, where they had to fight monsters.

'Exterminate the terrorists and destroy their delivery paths.'

There was a small shrine by the bridge. Such an unimportant detail. But it clawed into Glenn's mind. Long past memories bubbling up, where he had stood on his tiptoes to reach to the small platform, fighting with Leif about who got to place a candle for save passage there. His eyes wandered from the shrine to the bridge. The metal structure like a skeleton in the dark. He... knew it in daylight, looking up. Using a branch to hit the metal posts and make noise. And beyond that... the towers of a village. He could hear the echoes of bells ringing, as Leif and he had run across a market place.

"That's..."

...where we had lived before Midgar....

There was a sense of unease being topside. Leif didn't outwardly show it, but he didn't much like the metal structures of Midgar, precisely why he bailed from the city as soon as he could afford a small plot in the grasslands. That had taken him years, while Glenn trained in the soldier program he scraped together every bit of gil that he could and shoved it into his savings.

Felt weird to be standing in his brother's place of occupation. He wasn't an extremist, but he didn't particularly buy what the Shinra company was selling. If a Shinra logo was stamped on something the price suddenly skyrocketed and the competition died out, and the way the media harped on about heroes and joining the cause for a war that wasn't worth fighting really didn't sit right. He left well enough alone and kept his dissatisfaction mostly to himself.

Hell, that had been the cause of most arguments between him and Glenn. They couldn't see eye-to-eye on it. Where his brother thought Shinra was the future, Leif saw them as the epitome of greed that had a chokehold on the common folk. He did his time in the filth of the slums. He saw enough.

Though he was old enough to swallow down his opinions. He knew how much this all meant to Glenn, and he had a feeling his brother was trying to win him over with this future tech. He went along with it all for Glenn's sake — not worth smashing their heads together or potentially shattering their bond, he'd try to keep an open mind.

Try.

"All this mako for make believe?" he mused, and when he shot a glance to Glenn he help up his hands out in a show of peace. "Alright, alright. Show me what you got."

He stood there with his hands on his hips. Watched their surroundings change to Gongaga. He glanced around. The same trees extended into the distance, copied over and over. The air in their face had a metallic edge to it, not the wet forest litter he'd expect. Head cocked, that monster's roar was... wrong. They really used the call of a Fonadu belonging to Junon.

He blinked and the environment changed again. Somewhere he hadn't been. The northern continent. Though he had a feeling it ought to feel a lot colder.

Leif hummed to his brother's question. Better to bite his tongue, he was supposed to be making an effort here.

Right as he started to try and loosen up for Glenn's sake, his stomach dropped. The hands at his hips slowly fell away and his entire expression and demeanour changed. It was a stone cold shock that froze him on the spot.

'Exterminate the terrorists and destroy their delivery paths.'

This was the iron islands. Some crude recreation of...

His stomach twisted, and slowly his shocked expression hardened. "What are you playing at?" he asked his brother lowly, with a barely controlled temper. "Why on Gaia— what is this??" Arms opened wide, he stepped around Glenn to gesture around. "Why the fuck is our home mapped out like a fucking game, Glenn?!"

In a moment of anger he shoved his brother back as if that would help anything at all, barely gave Glenn the time to respond. He paced towards that bridge with the same anger, a hand pushing his hair back harshly as he made long strides for the metal structure. "Don't you dare quit out of this!" he bellowed, already halfway across the bridge.

[pleasantanathema]

Kenny Ackerman | of Death and Cigars

Pairing: Kenny Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Bloodplay, Blood Tasting, Bloody Bathwater, Biting, Age Gap, Kenny says cunny because of course he would 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Back by popular demand, it’s the dirty old man. This is part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate ❤️

          The warm bathwater was ghoulish, slowly bleeding from pink to red the longer you sat in it.

           At least Kenny didn’t look bad wet. Or bloody, for that matter. But you were used to seeing him caked in crimson, often found stains of it left in the rough patches of his beard. It’s all part of the job, kid. And it was, blood was something you expected out of mercenary work. What you didn’t anticipate was how much you’d enjoy the cleanup, how much you’d take pleasure in sitting between Kenny’s naked legs and let his calloused knuckles wipe someone else’s blood from your skin.

           “Got a little on your mouth,” the water splashed as he raised his hand, swiping at your bottom lip, having to repeat the motion a few times to remove the smear, “what did you fucking do, drink his blood?”

           Your eyes rolled, “I bit him, he was trying to reach around for my knife.”

           Kenny only huffed, flicking water on your face before leaning back and stretching his arms along the edge of the tub. His knuckles popped and his neck cracked as he rolled it, little echoes into the dimly lit room as you fell into silence. You continued to rake a soiled cloth across your arms, most of the water still streaking red over your skin despite your persistence.

           “Got some on your back,” he noted, and you could feel his eyes on you, burning spots into your spine.

           “Well, wipe it off. Isn’t that what you’re here for? To ‘wash my back’?”

           “Nah, I’m just here to look at you naked.”

           You groaned, attempting to reach around to your back to clean, fingers aching from the reach. Kenny watched you struggle for a bit before swatting your hand away, gathering the rag in his fist so he could scrub rather brutishly at the elusive plane between your shoulder blades.

           The embarrassment of being naked around him had washed away after the first few times you performed this ritual. It was just easier to get clean this way, and you didn’t particularly enjoy waiting for him to bathe first just so you could step into ice cold, murky water. Plus, there were some nights when he was actually tender, started to open up withered petals in the sun and talk about his past whenever he’d had too much to drink before sitting in the water.

           You glanced over your shoulder at him, not bothering to hide your curiosity as your eyes flickered over his features. His long hair clung to his shoulders, wrinkles pulled around his mouth from where he held it to the side in concentration. His lean shoulders were freckles from days in the sun, muscles in his arms rolling as he attempted to wash away the scarlet splotches from your skin.

           He’d taught you how to slaughter people in his own gruesome, throat-splitting way. He’d hand picked you for the Anti-Personnel Control squad—said he saw something vicious in you, and maybe he did.

           “Don’t look at me with those big eyes, kid. You’re gonna make my cock hard.”

           “Your cock’s already hard.”

           “Then maybe you should clean that next. Sure your mouth would do better than a rag.”

           You mumbled something about him being disgusting, but kept most of it trapped in your throat. His hands felt particularly good kneading into your back. Not to mention the last time you’d been too sassy with him, he let you go to bed bloody. You reeked of iron for days.

           You stood in the tub, carefully posturing your feet around his outstretched legs, keeping your back to him as you stretched and prepped to leave. But as you turned to the side, you caught a glimpse of blood in his hairline, something he never thinks about since he’s always in his fucking hat.

           “There’s—ugh fuck it,” you knelt back down, caging his thighs with your own so you could sit in his lap and work at chipping away at the dried, grimy substance with your nails.

           “Now that’s more like it,” he unabashedly moved his hands to your waist, long fingers skimming upward to brush the underside of your breasts, “shame you have to keep these pretty tits covered all day.”

           “You’re such a fucking pervert.”

           “Hey, you agreed to bath time with dear old Kenny.”

           He had a point, but you didn’t have to explain yourself. Not to him.

           You kept having to tilt his chin up and away from staring at your chest so you could weave your fingers into the surprisingly thick strands of hair. Droplets started forming at his forehead from your actions, water turning red as it absorbed the remnants of a very dirty and very busy night.

           “You feel good in my lap,” he hummed, rocking you forward so you could feel just how much he meant with it with the cock straining against his stomach. You attempted to lift yourself away from him, but he only pulled you closer, brought your breasts up to his face so he could lick the water away from one of your nipples. You hated the jolt of pleasure that raced down your skin at the lewd touch, biting your tongue avoid any untoward sound slipping out.

           Kenny repeated the action when you didn’t pull away, this time his tongue flat, placing a long, hot stripe over your nipple and over the curve of your breast.

           “Stop that.”

           “Do you really want me to?”

           He didn’t give you the chance to answer, instead enveloped your hardened peak with his warm mouth. You shivered at the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, the hands in his hair pulling him toward you instead of pushing away. He smirked against your tit, tip of tongue circling your nipple until he finally heard you moan. It was the faintest sound, one you barely recognized came from your mouth, but he heard it.

           His hand on your hip sunk lower under the water line, thumb tracing the inside of your thigh, creeping closer to the one place he hadn’t dared to touch before. Well, that wasn’t quite true; he’d attempted once before, but you scratched his wrist so hard that he bled. This time you didn’t bother to stop him, the curiosity of what his fingers would feel like nearly killing you.

           “Bet you’ve got a real tight cunny, don’t you?”

           “Kenny—” you scold stopped mid-breath as his middle finger brushed your clit, pushing farther back to probe at your tight hole. He started sucking at your breast, taking the fat in between his teeth as he groaned at the feeling of your folds against his hand.

           You were glad you couldn’t see the delight in his eyes when you sat deeper into his lap, urging his fingers to explore further, to press up inside you just so you could know how it felt. He obliged your silent request, sinking his finger into your heat and feeling the moan that reverberated from your chest.

           It felt good, and he knew just how to curl his knuckle, how to swipe his thumb against your clit in the same motion to have your head falling back. Your hips rolled against your better judgement, encouraging him to nestle a second finger inside of you, pumping them both and stretching you apart.

           “Yeah you like that, don’t you? Little whore likes her cunny stuffed.”

           “If only I could stuff your fucking mouth.”

           “Next time.”

           You weren’t sure if it was frustration or ecstasy that trickled down your back and settled in your stomach, but you didn’t care, not when his fingers started pushing a little harder. Kenny’s lips started to make a trail up your chest, messy, wet kisses that had your skin burning under his beard. He stopped at your neck, wicked tongue daring to lap at the bloody water that pooled against your collarbone.

           “Fuck I can’t take this teasing shit. Sit on my cock.”

           Demands from him weren’t uncommon, he was your superior, after all, but this one had your cheeks flushing. You gasped when he uncurled his fingers from inside of you, shaking his wrist under the water like he was cleaning them. Your hands fell down to his shoulders, nails pressing into the muscled sinews as you lowered yourself just like he told you to.

           You tried to look away from him as you felt his cockhead breach that first ring of muscle, your cunt too willingly sucking him in, but he caught your jaw, making you look down at him. His grey eyes were always piercing, like they were cutting through you like a knife twisting in flesh, and this time was no different. It was like he was looking through you, reading the jumbled thoughts rolling in your head as you started to sink down his length.

           A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, “You’ve still got a little blood on your lips. Let me clean that for you.”

           His kiss was rough, assertive, mouth slanting against yours in a mixture of control and desperation. For a moment, you thought not to kiss him back, a metallic flash of crimson hitting your tongue signaling that he was, indeed, telling the truth. But your mouth opened of its own will when his lengthy cock finally bottomed out inside of you.

           One of his hands looped around the back of your neck, crushing your mouth against his as he started to rock you in his lap. You felt startlingly full, cock spreading your insides as you started to move with him.

           A small pang of disgust hit you when his tongue snaked into your mouth, but you washed that down with the taste of him, with the taste of blood and tobacco, of death and cigars.

           Your clit was sliding perfectly against the thatch of wiry black curls at the base of his cock, pleasure brewing in your pussy and traveling to your fingers, your toes. When he pulled away from your lips, his tongue licked at your cheek before he started to bounce you harder in his lap. Bloodstained water sloshed from the edges of the tub, sinking into the grout and tiles.

           “I’ve come in my hand so many times thinking about you, kid.” He laughed at the look on your face from his confession. “Ain’t gonna take me long to cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

           “God I fucking hate you,” you hissed, but you kept up the pace, feeling that rather blissful and dreadful pull of orgasm.

           “That so? Then why’re you just getting tighter around me? Feels like you like my cock.”

           You didn’t have the effort for a retort, your head falling to his shoulder as you began to ride him harder, ready to cum and go dwell in the shame afterwards.

           Kenny was panting, clearly enjoying himself as his big hands groped at your ass, helping you slide along his cock under the water. You hated that he smelled good, hated that he felt good, hated that he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling your cheeks apart and making you spread and used.

           “Bite me.”

           You almost didn’t hear him over your own whimpers, gritting out a simple, “What?”

           “You h-heard me, kid. Bite me like you did that fucker earlier. Wanna see what it feels like.”

           It was an opportunity you weren’t going to pass up. You caught your breath, blinking your eyes for a second so you could see straight through the haze of pleasure. You chose the tender spot between neck and shoulder, sinking your teeth into his tawny skin slowly, putting pressure on your canines so he’d feel that thrill of pain.

           He moaned so loudly it actually made you flush, made your ears burn from how lewd it sounded. It spurred you to bite harder, to sink so deep into flesh that you felt his own blood slip past your lips.

           The pulsing of his cock made you see colors, made you gasp and release his shoulder and nearly double over from the euphoria that rippled through your body. He stopped moving, but your body still shook, slapped with a climax you didn’t expect just from feeling cum pour inside your cunt, from feeling his cock twitch and throb and explode inside you. You spasmed around him, brows pinching together as you tried to come back to your senses.

           You supposed he wasn’t kidding about not going to last long, you just felt embarrassment creep over your psyche at the fact that you’d fallen right behind him, wasting away in his lap.

           After a few moments, you finally sat back, groaning at that too-full feeling of still having him inside of you. You gripped his jaw like he did yours earlier, bringing him back to life to look up at you.

           “You can have your blood back,” you slid your messy mouth against his, both of you moaning a little too deeply as you shared his taste between your tongues.

[dimensionwriter]

100 Days

Part Three

Part One Part Two

M! Alien x GN! Reader

Warning: pinning

Word Count: 2296

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Today’s the day. A whole month has passed since Experiment 337 became conscious, therefore that means that he is now in the clear to be able to leave his containment. The reasoning for the 30 day period is to see if the alien holds the ability to breath in our atmosphere. So, slowly throughout 25 days, the liquid in the container gains more oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide until it reaches the point of similarities with Earth’s. Then the final 5 days are just checking on the vitals and making sure there are no complications.

And Shark was able to withstand it! Of course Shark would. There was no doubt in your head that that crazy alien wouldn’t be able to. He’s amazing like that.

Do you know how hard it is to try to look professional and calm while speed walking down the halls? Every time someone would stop to ask you something, you did not stop. You would yell the answer or tell them the name of someone who may know the answer while you were way past them. Luckily, no one pointed out how weird you look speeding to your door.

“Examiner, good morning. You made it just in time,” A low voice spoke to you. You looked away from your door to see your vector’s manager walking towards you. He was the one who’s always speaking through your earpiece. You assumed that he wouldn’t bother you anymore, except for meetings, since Shark was now conscious, but seeing him walk towards you told you that he must have found something new that interested him. Sadly, it must have included you.

“Morning, sir. Have they already started the movement?” You scanned your ID card across the reader causing the door to open. Stepping through, you were met with what felt like a completely different room. The container was broken down into its four glass panels and were laying on the floor in the corner. Your computer was now moved into the corner with a wall around it with windows that peered out into the room. In the middle, was a long table that had the main attraction on it.

Shark was still fast asleep, thanks to the sleeping medicine still being pumped into him. His grayish blue skin seems to look almost matte out of the liquid. Glancing at his limb, the black color that it turned to was a completely different texture. What type would it be most similar like?

“Morning, Examiner. We are almost done here. I am changing their vital readers to be inside of them , so there won’t be cords everywhere that could trip you. I have also added a microchip in their neck, just in case they try to escape. It’ll send a big enough shock to take down an elephant,” The vector’s doctor explained walking around Shark and pointing them out. So he had vital readers in his right thigh, middle left arm, and one in the center of his chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you guys,” You apologize seeing how much was done without you. You walked over to your metal closet to put away your personal belongings and grab a fresh pair of lab coat and gloves. You actually get a chance to actually use the gloves.

You watched as your manager didn’t even try to put on any of the sterile clothes and just walked in. He’s the manager, so he should definitely know the rules, but is choosing to ignore it. This man sometimes gets on your nerves.

“So, this is the little shape shifting bastard,” your manager teased, poking Shark in his face. Not the bare hands. Who knows what germs this man has been exposed to and he’s directly making contact with the creature.

“Sir, I would advise that you do not touch Experiment 337 with your bare hands. It is unknown the result that may have on them,” the doctor spoke. The dark bags under their eyes made their statement feel a lot more firm then it would have coming from you. He may be the manager, but the vector’s nurse is equal to him.

He let out a small scoff and started walking around the room looking at things. The nurse went over to the corner room to probably make sure the vitals are actually reading correctly. With everyone busy, you walked over to Shark.

With the tips of your fingers, you brushed away at the spot the manager had touched. Woah. His skin was so cold. It felt like you were touching ice. Lightly, you trailed your fingers down his face to see that the texture was actually similar to something that was matte.

The skin underneath your finger begins to poof out. Looking back at his face, you see that his thin lips were spread out showing his sharp teeth. No way. You looked further up to see a pair of black eyes staring at you.

How was…. There can’t. You looked down to see that there was still a tube going up his back that was pumping the blue liquid. It has been confirmed that this formula worked good enough to put him to sleep. How was he awake?

“Do plan on bringing the bed in later today?” You watched as the manager walked towards the corner room, not noticing the two pairs of eyes on him. He disappeared around the corner and your head snapped down.

“You can resist the medicine,” you accused him. He gave a smirk and let out a quiet laugh. His top arms were folded across his stomach. He reached a little and grabbed the end of your lab coat and began twirling it.

“As I have stated before, Yeah and you can’t. It’s not my fault you humans are so, how do I say this kindly, incapable.” You didn’t even have it in you to argue with him. A million questions were flying through your head.

How did he stop the effects of the medicine? Does it have something to do with him being a shapeshifter? How long has he been doing this? Should you report this?

Wait, why are you doubting reporting this? This is definitely something that should be reported. If everyone thinks all aliens are asleep and there’s little security, he could become a real threat. Going rampant, freeing other aliens, or worse, going onto the outside.

Would he really be that much of a threat? He would probably just try to flirt with all of the security and get them to be his ‘mate’ or something.

“Darling, you look so cute when you think so hard,” his voice purred. You looked over at him to see he was smirking at you. His black eyes drifted down a little and that’s when you noticed that his hand holding your lab coat was raised up. He stretched his neck a little to look underneath it.

“What are you even looking at?” You held no personal items in your pants. Maybe he was analyzing the fabric of clothes better to recreate it better. Has he ever held this type of fabric before? You don’t really know where he came from or his history much. One day, you got a promotion to this vector to be an examiner and got assigned to him. No previous records were given to you.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the view,” he mumbled leaning a little farther over to look. Your brain seemed to freeze as you realized what he was doing. This pervert.

Stepping forward, you yanked your coat out of his hand and smacked the back of his hand. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he started to softly laugh. He was enjoying teasing you a little too much.

“Examiner?” You turned around to see the Nurse and the manager staring at you. You blinked in confusion at them. Why were they looking at you weird when Shark was clearly awake? “Can you please not smack the alien? They may be unconscious, but I’m sure they can still feel it?”

Unconscious? You turned around to see that Shark had his eyes closed and his arms back in place. It looked like he was truly ‘unconscious’ it wasn’t for the edges of his cheek twitching from trying to hold in his smile. He was trying to get you in trouble.

“I apologize. Thought I saw a bug or something on his skin. However, it was most likely his skin shifting around due to his ability to shapeshift." You hoped they didn't pick up on the bull crap you just let spewed from your mouth. It's one thing for a manager to touch him, but for a subordinate like yourself to slap him, that's an instant ticket to being written up.

"Bugs? Many workers have been moving in and out of this room. It's a small chance, but still is possible," they grumbled walking towards you. They glanced around the room before letting out a small sigh. "I'll make sure to send a cleaning crew in here just in case."

They actually brought it. You didn't know who to thank. Thank the nurse for being kind and not doubting you or the workers for moving around a lot. Well you thank both.

"Whelp, Examiner. Congrats on getting that thing to live for this long. Definitely thought the damn thing was going to kick the bucket ." His harsh laugh echoed through the room. You didn’t say anything, only allowed a tight lip smile to come on your face. The nurse just rolled their at his dumb statement.

“Examiner, you need to complete your training for in person examinations for Experiment 337,” the nurse reminded you. Their eyes drifted down to Shark next to you before looking back up at you. You swear you saw a small smirk appear on their face. “We will be outside waiting for you to finish up in here.”

They dropped their lab coat in the waste bin and slid their black gloves into their back pocket. Scanning their ID, the door slid open and they walked through. The manager appeared confused by their statement, so where you to be honest, but didn’t question it much and just walked out.

Did the nurse know that Shark was awake? If they actually knew, hopefully you won’t get into trouble for it. That would look so bad if you looked like you were hiding stuff for them and you could get written up, or worse, fired.

“Why do you always leave me?” You turned towards Shark to see he was sitting up now. You tilted your head up to be able to look him in the face. Something to document, he’s tall as hell. His torso to leg ratio is a little less even than humans. His legs are quite long and thick making you believe that’s where his height would mostly come from. But that theory is thrown into a fire seeing as his torso was the length of your entire upper body.

“Now that everyone has left the room, now you want to ogle my body. You perv,” he teased, covering his body with his six hands. The claws protruding out of them pressed into his grey skin. Small little bumps and rises appeared all over his skin. It really was like leather in a way. “Honey?”

“First, I know you didn’t just say I was ogling you. You were the one raising up my lab coat to look at me. You’re even more of a perv. Second, don’t call me honey. I don’t want anyone to hear you say that and get that wrong idea,” you ticked off with your finger. He unwrapped his first set of arms to let the elbows rest on his thighs. Gently, he rested his head on them and stared down at you.

“Then, can I call you babe, sugar plum, my starlight, darling, and/or angel? It would please me if all of the humans on this planet knew you were mine. And I do plan on making you mine,” he whispered. He leaned down towards you with a small smile on his face. In his dark eyes, you could see your reflection through them. Did you really look that flustered?

You stepped away from him and walked towards the door. You took off your lab coat while taking steady breaths. This is your job. You are getting paid to deal with this flirty alien. “Well, I see you're still stuck on that whole mate thing. While you continue to go on about that, I have work to do. See you later.”

You grabbed your ID to scan it when a hand landed on top of the scanner. Then another wrapped around your waist pulling you into a hard surface. Two hands went above you to the door while another grabbed your face to tilt it up.

“I’m not joking when I say you’re my mate. I’m adamant that you are and I don’t plan on letting you go.” His usual smile was wiped on his face, but instead a joyless frown was there. The sparkles in his eyes were all gone. He really was serious about this.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you go. Just this time.” Every hand around you retreated back to him as he turned away from you. He walked towards the metal table with his tail low to the ground. “But next time, I would actually like some time with you. Please.”

All you could do was give him a small nod as you exited the room. Your mind felt fuzzy from trying to process everything. But you have plenty of time in the future to get answers to these questions.

70 days.

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I actually wrote something. It’s something short but I’m proud I actually did it. I miss Shark and this story. Hopefully, I’ll get to get something else out. Anyway, make sure to Like, Reblog, and Comment. I love to see you guy’s comments. 

[whump-a-la-mode]

It’s blue again with a prompt for u: villain gets captured and tortured by hero and escapes, extremely drugged, and shows up on the doorstep of supervillain (who they are absolutely terrified of) because they have nowhere else to go

🥺🥺🥺 This is such a cute prompt. I hope I did it justice! Thank you fren blue!

CW//Injuries, implied past strangulation, hypothermia, drugging

When one is busy, it is terribly easy to forget, and calling Supervillain anything but busy would be either an understatement, or, perhaps, an insult.

Such was the case when one was the most powerful villain in Metropolis after all. They'd long since given up any semblance of free time. And, yet, as of recent, they had managed to have their schedule even more full than usual.

If there was one thing Supervillain didn't like, it was prison. If there was another, it was the fact that the city's heroes had spent the last few weeks carrying out an all-out war against those who opposed them. Their goal was ludicrous, and yet, at the same time, very, very clear.

Their target? Every villain in the city. Each and every one, taken into captivity. Within the past few weeks, nearly everyone that they kept contact with had scattered like rats into the city floorboards.

But Supervillain was not so cowardly. Not so quick to break and flee. No, that was what kept them at the top of the pecking order. The situation didn't matter-- they weren't leaving their lair. And, so far, they'd fended off the many attacks that had pounded against their walls.

So far.

Regardless of method, unlike their opponents, the city's villains were smart. They knew how to disappear when they had to.

When they had enough warning.

With just how chaotic the last few weeks had been, they had nearly forgotten just how the whole situation had began. The only warning sign that any of them had had-- The fall of a friend.

Well, maybe not a friend. But an ally, surely.

Villain. They had all been too busy. They'd forgotten young Villain, plucked from their home in a siege, broadcasted for all the world to see. It was a tragedy, but sometimes, people died. That was how the world worked.

People died.

They didn't show up on the doorsteps of the most powerful villain in the city, curled into the fetal position, moving only to inhale the tiniest, the shallowest of breaths. They weren't supposed to do that, at the very least.

And, yet, here Villain lay. Against the odds.

When Supervillain had heard the knocking, the weak, almost whimpering of flesh on wood, they had assumed the worst. The next attack. The next attempt to break into their lair. And, yet, their surveillance systems had reported nothing of the like, and a quick sweep by their henchmen had confirmed that there were no heroes laying in wait nearby.

It wasn't a trap. At the very least, if it was a trap, it wasn't obvious.

If it had been a trap, they could have at least cleaned up their bait a little better. That was their first thought when they at last felt confident enough to open the door. What in the world was one supposed to do in this situation? At the moment, their reaction was, more or less, 'staring in shock.' While perhaps not being the most helpful, to them, it seemed the most natural.

Closing the door wasn't an option. They knew that.

Supervillain didn't take pity, not on anyone. There was a reason they were feared-- they weren't known for their mercy. But, leaving a fellow villain like this... It was something that was just wrong. Evil as they were, villains still had morals. They took good care of their hostages. They released children, the elderly and the sick. They kept their own henchmen in good health and spirits.

And...

And they didn't leave fellow villains on their doorsteps, half dead.

Biting the inside of their cheek out of nerves alone, they leaned down, picking up the shivering burden. The cold struck them in an instant-- a terrible, shivering cold. The kind that was reserved only for those with powers that related to ice and snow.

But Villain- No, Villain was a pyrokinetic. A firebender. And they always ran hot.

Not frigid. With a hiss, Supervillain spoke a few words into their earpiece, before disconnecting it. Ordering their henchmen to keep watch, while they dealt with something very, very important.

They laid the pyrokinetic upon a couch-- having holed up in their living area-- and examined them in the better light.

Their eyes were closed, as was their mouth, except for the slightest parting of blue-hued lips to inhale the tiniest of gasps.

Moving downwards, their neck, skin pulled taut and pale to the point of nigh-translucence, was marked pointedly with a series of angry, red lines. They seemed to wrap all the way around. Some were broader, while some were fine, delicate, nearly sharp enough to draw blood.

Strangulation marks.

If their body showed anything, it was that either whoever had kept them captive had had no intent for them to escape, or had simply not cared in what condition their bait was found. They were draped in a cotton top and trousers that were only thick enough to maintain their modesty, but not nearly enough to maintain the slightest fiber of warmth. Sprouting from sleeves and neckholes, bruises of both a deep blue and a sickly purple bloomed, formed into shapes did not so much as attempt to hide that they had been sourced from hands or bats.

It was only when Supervillain's scan reached their feet that they found definitive proof of escape. A single foot, the left, had been torn nearly to shreds, as though it had been chewed by a wild beast. The biting circle of a metal restraint could be seen marked into mangled skin, from where it had once sat upon the ankles, to where it had been slid all the way down, without care for bodily destruction.

Villain had escaped. Villain had escaped, and they had come to see... Supervillain? It didn't make sense.

But, with all the others in hiding...

They were their last hope.

It was with an almost superhuman speed that the supervillain contacted their medical staff, stating to arrive as soon as possible, that any traffic tickets would be paid off.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes to their arrival. Could Villain make it that long? They were so, so cold.

Supervillain was just about the furthest thing on the planet from a doctor, but they were also rather far from being an idiot. No human was meant to be this cold, especially one whose body was designed for the production of flame.

They took a decorative fleece, draped over a nearly ottoman, and held it nervously before their chest. What were they supposed to do?

Villain was too cold. Supervillain wasn't going to let them die!

They pulled the blanket about their back, wrapping it around their front, covering as much skin as they could manage. They expected a reaction, a shout, or- Or something.

But, their newfound, injured ward did little but blearily open their eyes. Behind them, there was nothing.

"Are you okay?" Supervillain spoke to a brick wall. "What happened? What did they do to you?"

A heavy blink, and their eyelids drifted back closed. What was wrong with them?

"Villain!" They snapped, raising their voice loud enough to scare away any wildlife in a one mile radius. "Look at me! Wake up!"

Their tone took on that of what they used during interrogations. Anything to wake their ice-cold ally up.

Their eyes once more opened, focusing ever so slightly. They opened their mouth, gaping momentarily like a fish, before once more closing their jaw.

This wasn't exhaustion, Supervillain realized with a start. This was drugs. Heavy sedation. Nigh-paralysis. That was all that could be seen in their gaze- exhaustion and fear.

What were they afraid of?

"My henchmen have cleared the perimeter." They spoke as though someone in such a state could understand words of such a length. "You're safe."

It did nothing. With a shaking hand, Supervillain reached a hand forward, placing it upon their shoulder.

That elicited a reaction. A whimper.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay."

In their eyes, something shifted.

"Whoever did this to you..." Public enemy number one, the most dangerous person at Metropolis, the terror of every child growled. "I'm going to make them suffer."

When Supervillain's medical staff arrived, it was to the sight of their terrifying boss, coaxing soup through the lips of someone who was identified as a threat to national security.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste. 

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone! 

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67​. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean. 

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag. 

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows. 

The closet. 

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding — 

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet — 

— ready or not, here I come — 

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier. 

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly. 

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do. 

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea. 

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade. 

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time. 

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things. 

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red. 

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps. 

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him. 

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him. 

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating. 

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him. 

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares. 

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like — 

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood — 

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but — 

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and — 

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and — 

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams. 

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders. 

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side. 

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin. 

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.” 

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over. 

“Sorry.” 

“No biggie.” 

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” 

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy. 

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.  

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing. 

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but… 

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out. 

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw. 

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks. 

“No.” 

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.” 

“But I —” 

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.” 

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue. 

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck. 

His body used to be a weapon. 

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him. 

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.” 

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down. 

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit. 

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile. 

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine — 

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock. 

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment. 

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good. 

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door. 

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late. 

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip. 

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and — 

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and — 

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck. 

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red. 

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off. 

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories — 

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations — 

— invade his reality every day. 

It didn’t feel like a memory, though. 

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his. 

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor. 

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.  

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way. 

Messy. 

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares. 

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —” 

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep. 

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner. 

No witnesses. It’s an order. 

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes. 

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.” 

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed. 

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock. 

Christ, she’s gorgeous. 

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her. 

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off. 

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls. 

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock. 

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly. 

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately. 

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth. 

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —” 

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan. 

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips. 

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning. 

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?” 

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.” 

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock. 

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair. 

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water. 

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.” 

“Why is this freaking you out?” 

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?” 

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.” 

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning. 

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.” 

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.” 

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.” 

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again. 

“Fuck.” 

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?” 

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you. 

“Okay.” 

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it. 

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle. 

He wants —

 — so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but — 

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and — 

— fuck, he wants her. 

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan. 

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other. 

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated. 

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and — 

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.” 

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?” 

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.” 

“Do it.”  

Oh. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips. 

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts. 

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.” 

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal. 

“Yellow,” she says.  

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face. 

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.” 

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.” 

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says. 

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod. 

“Green.” 

Companion fic is here. 

[writingtoforgetreality]

The Way You Make Me Feel (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Steve sent Bucky & you on a mission together. Nothing special, you worked well together, after all. This time, you had to go undercover. Pretending to be a couple. Your frustration after an unsuccessful night needed to be released. Bucky had something in mind.

Words: 3,137

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, protected sex bc Buck’s a responsible person, this is pure filth, I don’t know what else you want me to say…, language, undercover mission gone wrong, I wanted to write angst??? What happened? …oopsie? I’ll go take a cold shower now.

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Bucky Barnes. Used to be the Winter Soldier. Now the White Wolf. Muscular body. Broad shoulders. That metal arm of his that did unspoken things to you. Basically, he had ruined every other man for you. Unfortunately, he was not yours. He never would be yours. Coworkers. You were coworkers. Nothing more, nothing less.

The teasing was a given. Both, Bucky & you, had personalities that made it impossible to not flirt with each other. It was all playful, of course. Nothing would ever come out of it. Though, you would have lied if you said that you did not wish for it to change. His strut so manly, so strong. Thank God he was oblivious to how your body reacted whenever he was around. Those accidental touches. His hand touching your lower back. Everything set your body on fire. If it was not enough for him to be so hot, of course he had the most charming smiles to top everything off. It was unfair.

It was even worse that the entire team had picked up on the way you eyed Bucky. How whenever he entered the room, your eyes could not fixate on anything else. How your smile got wider whenever he talked. No matter how hard you tried, you fell for him. Harder & harder each day. The chemistry between you guys was no secret. Which was why you usually got teamed up with Bucky to complete missions together. But that was all there ever was. Constant flirting, teasing. Anything beyond that did not exist.

Another mission with him. Undercover. Your absolute favorite. You would have been fine with Sam or anyone else for that matter. But Bucky? Things were bound to get complicated. It was inevitable. Posing as a couple? Really? As if things were not bad enough already. A couple usually shared a room. You understood that. The thing was that you guys were not together. Not outside of this mission. So you had to deal with your emotions for him while being in the exact same room. With one bed. Yeah, things were starting great. After finishing up here, you would kill Steve for sure. He knew about your crush on Bucky. Probably the reason he liked to send you somewhere together. Apparently, it was incredibly exhausting to watch you guys dance around your feelings. You were a lot of things. A dancer was not one of them. More like an observer. Watching from afar to avoid stupid mistakes. That was more fitting.

Gala number one was over. Without any luck. There was no new information & nothing that brought you closer to your target. Just hours of unnecessary pretending & fake laughing. That was exhausting. Especially if Bucky had to be close to you all night long. Always an arm around your waist. A kiss on the cheek for effect. If it were not for this stupid mission, you would have enjoyed every single second of it. Sadly, it was an act. That thought alone broke your heart into a million pieces. Not even you were sure when your feelings for Bucky started. It was like you were thrown into ice cold water all of a sudden & now you had to deal with the aftermath.

Unsuccessful missions always left you frustrated. This type of frustration that let you overthink every little detail. What if you did this? What if you did not do that? What if, what if, what if. Mind being filled with so many thoughts, it was barely possible to stay sane. Even worse, you still had a couple of nights ahead of you. If you did not finish this job then you should not head back. Great. If all nights turned out like this, you would throw yourself out of a window. No, really. You were exhausted.

His body language revealed how stressed he was as well. Completely tense, clenched jaw. He did not like it any more than you did. Truthfully, he was even angrier than you. While the two of you worked well together, when things did not go your way, it could get pretty heated real fast. Words thrown at each other’s heads. Blaming the other one for that particular thing because if that did not happen, then you would have finished this mission already. It took a few hours until the tension died down again. An apology later & you were back to normal.

Not today, it seemed. The two of you were worse after that gala. Maybe it was because you felt uncomfortable all night. Maybe it was because you had to stay here for however long. Maybe it was just him. Him acting like a shy gentleman. Like the husband obsessed with his wife. Wanting to show her off whenever the chance was given. Tonight, you were her. You were his wife. You were the one he wanted to show off. But you were not really her. Just a fraction, if anything. He pretended & so did you. At least that was what you told yourself. Deep down, it was so much more than just pretending. It was like giving in to a craving you had had for years. And while it was not much, it had to do. Had to be enough. Because that was the most you would ever receive. The most he would ever give you. How you wished this were not the case.

So why the hell was he staring even more intensely than usual? Why the hell did he eye you up & down like a hungry animal waiting for the perfect timing to attack its prey? Why the hell did his hands clench into fists? And why the hell did it affect you so much? So much, in fact, that your thighs pressed together involuntarily. An action that did not go unnoticed by him. Standing up, flexing his muscles. Eyes that looked darker in the barely lit room. His never leaving yours when he approached you carefully. He took his time. You knew he did it to give you enough time to escape this situation if you really wanted to. You did not, though. For once, you wanted to give in. For once, you wanted your body to fully feel. Feel him. All of him.

His body was only mere inches away from yours. The exposed skin on your back pressing against the cold wall of your hotel room. The dress did not cover much. Enough to keep the others interested. And apparently to keep him interested, too. Both of his arms came up to rest next to your head. By now, he was caging you with his entire body. An action that let goosebumps appear. You breathed the same air. It seemed like the time stood still. Everything that kept on was you & him. In that hotel room. Against the wall. If he decided to lower his head just a little, your lips would be touching. He did not. No. If this was about to happen then he wanted to take his time with you. Tease you. Hear you. Feel you. Your breathing picked up its pace. He had not even touched you yet but you were already reacting like this. His smirk showed you how much he truly enjoyed having you putty in his hands. One of his legs moved slightly. Until his knee opened your legs slowly. His thigh pressed against your center. Barely, barely enough pressure to give you any form of satisfaction. Yet, you could not help but whimper at his touch. To shut you up, he pressed his soft lips against yours in a passionate kiss. There was no hint of gentleness behind his actions. Just purely heated with a desperation that made you weak at the knees. You melted into his touch, your hands roaming all over his chest. Any way to bring him closer to your body. His metal hand found itself at your waist while his other one cupped your cheek. An almost tender action that balanced out his rough & relentless kiss. It was like he was your drug & now that you got a taste of him, you would never let go again.

When his hands brushed over your shoulders to push the straps of your dress down, your breath hitched in your throat. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking & gently biting every now & then. You moaned when he reached a certain spot. Staying at this place, he focused solely on it all while pushing your gown further down your curves. The moment it reached the floor, he took a step back to take in your full beauty. To him, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. Not wasting another second, he dropped to his knees in front of you. So close to where you wanted him the most. Where you needed him. His hands grabbed your hips tightly. It would sure leave bruises but you knew you would love looking at them after waking up. Because he did that to you. Kissing his way down your belly, he made sure to focus on his task. His eyes opened when he reached your panties. Silently asking for permission. You were too far gone already so you eagerly nodded at him, threading your hands through his soft locks. A slight push earned you a groan. One, that went straight to your pussy. But he would not give in that easily. After all, he had waited so long for this to happen. He would savor it in great detail. His flesh hand kneaded one of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You were in a state of bliss & he had barely touched you. That was enough to let him know what he did to you. Before you could even process what he was doing, he pulled your panties off in one swift motion & slid his metal fingers through your slit. The coldness of it made your excitement grow even more. Usually, you would feel embarrassed by how wet you were. But this was Bucky. With him, it was different. An approving hum coming from him was enough confirmation. You had no need to be ashamed.

His fingers worked slowly, almost lazily. He knew how to push your buttons. By the way he touched you, so skilled, with such certainty, it was like he knew your body better than you did. Bucky encouraged you to be noisy, he wanted to hear you. The sweet moans, the whimpers, that he caused. He was the reason for them. Finally, he found your clit & put more pressure on it. Rubbing it in a steady motion. You could feel your orgasm building up already. You wanted to warn him, wanted to let him know that you needed a tiny bit more. He got the message when you pulled his hair tighter. While his finger stayed on your bundle of nerves, his head dipped lower, using his tongue to eat you out. And holy shit. That man knew what he was doing. He was so skilled, you assumed he had had tons of women before you. Right now, you could not care less. Your entire focus was on his ministrations & how his tongue entering you mixed with his fingers on your clit brought you higher & higher. Gripping his hair harder made him groan into you. That was all it took for you to let go. Your thighs shook & if it were not for Bucky steadying you, you would have fallen to the floor. For a few seconds, your vision was all blurry. That had never happened before. All the people who you had been with had never managed to satisfy you quite like this.

Again, his lips met yours. This time, you could taste yourself on them. And if it were possible, it turned you on even more. Both of his hands went to the back of your thighs, lifting you up with ease. He walked over to the bed & laid you down gently. All while his lips stayed locked onto yours. He propped himself up on his arms in order not to crush you with his weight. It was only then when you realized that he was still entirely dressed. Which was not really fair, considering that you were completely bare in front of him. Your hands went to open the buttons of his shirt but since you were still shaky after that first mind blowing orgasm he gave you, you could not quite succeed with that. A low chuckle escaped Bucky & his face left yours to help you out. His frantic actions showed you how he did not want to waste any more time. You barely had enough time to appreciate his body in its full glory. His muscles. His soft skin. Bucky knew what he wanted & he wanted it now.

He topped you, this time you opened your legs for him to slip in between. The kisses grew more & more passionate. But before you could get lost into it once again, he pulled away from you entirely. Your eyes opened, concern written all over your features. Bucky shushed you before you had the chance to ask if you did something wrong. Crossing the room in no time, he came back with a condom in his hand. The wink he sent you made you breathe easier. So he was not about to leave you. Opening the package, he took one of his arms to stroke over his thick cock. Sitting up, you kissed him while taking the condom from him. Your hand grabbed his wrist & you replaced his with yours, mimicking his previous motions. He groaned lowly & you smirked at his reaction. Twisting your hands just right, you picked up your pace. By the way his breath got heavier, you assumed that he was enjoying it. Suddenly, he pushed you away from him. Not hard, just so you would get the message. You knew what he was getting at. Giving him another short peck, you rolled the condom on & laid back down on the mattress. He followed your motions & set himself between your legs again. One arm on each side of your head as to not hurt you. His tip teased your entrance. Slowly sliding up & down to gather you slickness. Whenever he touched your clit, a moan left your mouth. That went on for a while. After all, Bucky made it his job to tease you. When the whimpers got too much, he asked you a simple question. In that deep, lust-filled voice of his.

“What do you want, doll?” you knew what he was trying to do. He wanted you to beg for him. But you were not that type of person. Not usually. Bucky was the exception. And he only had to ask that question twice before you gave in, the frustration clearly audible.

“Please, Buck. Please, I need you.” that did the job. In one swift motion, he entered you, filling you up so painfully right. That familiar, delicious sting. He stilled for a second. While he knew that he wanted to make this rough, he did not want to hurt you in any way. So he let you adjust to his size. Only when you moved your hips slightly & when you moaned out his name did he start his thrusts.

At first, he set a steady pace. Long, deep thrust that made your breasts bounce in the sweetest way possible. Not once did he close his eyes. No, he wanted to remember everything about this. Everything about you. You being under him. It did not take long for you to beg him for more. Giving in, he quickened his thrusts. Now, much deeper than before. He reached places inside of you you did not even know existed. The entire bed was moving & for once, you did not care if anybody heard you. All that mattered was the man on top of you. The man who made you feel like this. Like you were a goddess that needed to be devoured. During this moment, you felt like the prettiest woman on Earth. Bucky made you feel like that. You hated your body’s reaction to him. Because you could already feel your second orgasm building up. You did not want this to end so soon. You did not want to let go. But you knew you could not hold it back. Not much longer. Not if Bucky kept going like this. Somehow trying to signal that you were close, Bucky got an idea. His entire weight was now on his right arm while his metal one made its way between your bodies. Before he touched you there, he gave you an order. One that you could not help but obey.

“Open your eyes, doll. I wanna see you cum for me.” he said it in such a sexy way, barely above a whisper, but loud enough for you to understand that he was serious. So you did. You opened your eyes, locking them with his. That was when his metal fingers started rubbing fast circles around your clit. The noises coming from you got louder & louder. You were so close. When his thrusts did not slow down, you knew you would be there soon. The last bit it took came from Bucky, lips brushing your over your cheek, breathing another order in your ear.

“Cum for me. Yeah, that’s it. Cum all around me.” you had never heard something so hot coming from him. His words brought you over the edge. For the second time tonight, you saw dark spots clouding your vision. Bucky watching you cum under him made him reach his high as well. He bit your shoulder when he did. The pain mixed beautifully with the ecstasy you were currently experiencing.

He stilled inside of you, the two of you breathing heavily. You had never felt this satisfied after sleeping with someone. Slipping out of you, he rolled onto his side, propping his head onto his arm. There it was again. His charming smile. While he was a shy, polite gentleman outside of this room, he sure as hell did not hold back in bed. And you were glad that he did not. Smiling at him, too, he leaned in one more time for another kiss. This time, it was soft. Delicate. Not like the ones you shared only a few minutes ago. This sweet, romantic moment got interrupted when Bucky gripped your hips & rolled you on top of him so you were straddling his lap.

“I’m not done with you, doll.” yeah, it was about to be a long, tiring night.

Published (04/07/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @sweetserendipity65, @buckysleftarm420, @longinusfilibuster, @kathsheaven, @your-local-awkward-barista, @xfeliciahardyx (thanks for your support <3)

[lailannajacobs]

Heart of the Night

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky finds you after a mission that didn’t quite go as planned. 

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: lil bit angsty 

A/N: This is my submission for @wkemeup​​ 9k challenge, it’s not quite as edited as I would have liked but the end of the school year is always super busy so here it is! Congrats Kas, you are such an incredible writer, your talent absolutely blows my mind, it’s just unbelievable and I hope one day to have a tenth of your skill! You deserve everything great and more! <3

The needle trembled, metal glinting off the fluorescent light in your bathroom as it hovered just above the skin of your abdomen. The air reeked of copper. The pristine sink was marred with the dark red streaks of failure. You tried to swallow, but it felt like you were choking on your own throat. 

The needle approached the bloody canyon made by a knife you’d been too careless to avoid, and hovered there, trying to find its mark. The world swayed. You’d lost too much blood already. The needle clattered into the sink, black thread trialing behind it like a broken tether. You were somehow conscious — delirious? — enough to think you were lucky it hadn’t gone down the drain because you didn’t have time to call a plumber. Wait no. You’d just have to get a new one from the cabinet. You tried to reach for the needle. Your body didn’t react. Instead, it swayed dangerously, only your fighting instincts keeping you from tumbling to the floor by gripping onto the edge of the sink. At least there were some things blood could wash off from.

“YN!” that familiar voice burst into your apartment, “pool table. Five minutes. I swore to Sam that this was the day we finically beat Vision and his perfect calculations.”

You swore at the joyful ness in his voice. You couldn’t match that tone right now if you tried. But you had to. The mission had gone well. You’d done what you’d set out to do. Only you, the ever-present failure, had gotten yourself stabbed along the way. The only mercy was that no one else had noticed and you’d disappeared to your apartment without drawing suspicion. That was, until now if you couldn’t pull yourself together. You willed your body to close the bathroom door, but it wouldn’t move. If anything, everything only spun even more.

“Where the hell are...”

You felt his presence in your doorway. Felt his gaze like a physical thing. You were always aware of him. Even now was no exception. Maybe if you pretended he wasn’t there, he’d go away. Right. And the three-inch gash in your stomach would stitch itself up. You turned your head, not realizing how many abdominal muscles it took to look over your shoulder. Your pride and the death grip your slick fingers held on the porcelain were the only reasons the spinning didn't send you tumbling to the ground.

When your bathroom came into focus again, the only thing you really saw was Bucky taking up most of the doorway. And he was seething. His normally cool eyes were raging hurricanes, framed between hard lines of frustration on his face. They scanned you from top to bottom with deathly calm, from the sports bar you had on that exposed all your skin and the bruises you garnered during the mission to the sweatpants you’d changed into. An X-ray would have been less intrusive. You shivered. It was probably the blood loss.

You wanted to make up some excuse for your failure, but his anger was justified. You were a liability on the field. They were bound to have figured it out eventually.

He said nothing as he stalked over in a few brisk strides, fury emanating from him in waves. He stopped beside you, the pleasant smell of his freshly showered body chasing away the tang in the air. You closed your eyes. It was a coward’s move, but you’d take any peace you could get before everything you’d worked so hard to keep got taken away from you.

“Sit,” he ordered in a low, almost growly voice, “now.”

You went to sit on the toilet but tipped backward before you could make it. His arms gathered around you, easing you onto the closed seat. Your head lolled back and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“No.” He decided, “I need an explanation. Talk to me.”

It seemed like too much work. All you wanted to do was go to sleep.

“No,” he ordered as if you’d spoken the words aloud. Maybe you had.

You opened your eyes, caught in the crossfire of his icy stare, “Hydra agent during the extraction.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

The extraction of the French Prime Minister had been more than an hour ago. You should have been stitched up a long time ago. You should not have been dripping on the pale bathroom tiles.

“Surface wound,” you continued as professionally as your body would allow, knowing that even though you’d live, your failure was the reason for his fury, “came here. Was in the process of fixing it.”

“We have medics,” he growled, “what were you thinking?”

You didn’t answer. You weren’t about to tell him how your presence was a poison that would likely get them all killed eventually. Or that your constant mistakes were your own consequences to deal with — to fix. He probably knew that all ready. His question had to be rhetorical.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he were trying to steady his anger. You stared at him, the winter soldier kneeling before you, his calloused hands still resting on your hips. He let out a sigh, his breath warm on your stomach.

“I should call for a medic,” he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, “I can take care of my own mistakes.”

His lids snapped open, piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot with their ice cold intensity. He was obviously still pissed. But he didn’t call for a medic. Instead, he got up, warm hands leaving behind nothing more than goosebumps and shivers — from the blood loss, of course— and picked up the needle.

“This is going to hurt,” he murmured once he was kneeling in front of you again.

You tried to nod, but the motion sent your vision spinning again and you gripped onto his shoulder for support, the metal sturdy beneath your grip.

He looked up into your eyes, “are you sure you want me to do this? It’ll leave a scar and it won’t be pretty.”

“It’s only fitting,” you coughed a laugh, “at least the outside will start looking like the inside.”

His brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything. He knew what you were. You were a mutant who somehow got the ‘gift’ of being able to make anything stop functioning. You could make plans fall apart. Kill a software program. Stop a body’s functioning. Even ruin a functioning team like the Avengers. With skill, you should have been one of their greatest assets, ruining everything that threatened the world. But your ‘gift’ extended to yourself as well. You ruined everything you touched. Even the good. Especially, it always seemed, the good.

He pierced your skin without warning, but you were glad for the pain. It gave you something else to focus on than the echoing thoughts of your failure. But Bucky was gentle. Despite the anger you knew must still be there, his movements were delicate and focused, hesitating whenever you winced or sucked in a breath.

By the time he tied the knot, you were surprised you were still upright. He might have been efficient, but you couldn’t tell if it had taken seconds, minutes or even hours. His hands cupped your face and eyes you hadn’t realized you’d closed fluttered open. He was so close now, his expression pinched with worry. You couldn’t help but wonder how it could be for you.

“I’m almost done,” he said softly, “but you’ll probably need a transfusion.”

Adrenaline kicked in. You couldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Please don’t take me there,” you begged, “I can’t hurt anyone else.”

Your abilities rarely activated while you were asleep, but you wouldn’t risk the lives of the other patients or the doctors by going down to the medical wing. Years ago, when you’d realized what your abilities were, you’d stopped sleeping anywhere near anyone else. Now, hurt, there was an even greater chance you might lose control.

If you hadn’t been working so hard for consciousness, you would have also told Bucky to leave. But it wouldn’t have mattered. For some reason, he always stayed. Even when he was within the radius of your power. Even when you told him to go. Especially then. He always stayed.

“I won’t hurt anyone else,” you choked out, “I always hurt someone else.”

His thumb brushed across your cheek, “and yet you saved me today.”

You looked away from his burning gaze, your tears threatening to spill.

He continued, mercifully ignoring your watery eyes, “even though you were hurt you dropped that Hydra agent before he could shoot me in the back. We didn’t lose a single agent today, YN. That’s because you were there.”

“No,” you tried to shake your head, but his hands held on tightly, “they — you — saved yourselves. I got stabbed.”

“You got stabbed because you were busy watching everyone else’s back,” he growled, that earlier anger returning.

“I ruin things,” you repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

But it didn’t matter. He never seemed to believe you. But he needed to. You desperately needed him to before you ruined him too.

“Please leave,” you whimpered.

His answer was simple, “No.”

He took his hands back, but it was only to find some gauze to place over your cut. Once he was done, he scooped you up so gently the movement only hurt a lot instead of blinding pain and brought you to bed.

You gripped his shirt, fist balling up at the hem with all the strength you had left, “you need to leave, Bucky. Now.”

For some reason, the bastard smirked, “Someone has to make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

“I’ll be fine,” you snapped, though it lacked any kind of force.

He didn’t look impressed, “If you were fine you wouldn’t be begging me to leave. You’d be downstairs with me and we’d be getting our asses handed to us by Vision and Sam like every other Thursday night.”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to protect him, but you had no fight left in you. And with the plush mattress calling you to sleep, the world went dark before you could figure out a way to get him to leave.

“All right Destructo, show me what you’ve got.”

You weren’t a fan of the nickname, but you weren’t about to tell the Tony Stark to shut up and use your real name. And anyways, as much as you hated using your abilities, and how you were always overcome by the tidal wave of fear that sent fear rolling like waves throughout your body, you always felt better — healthier even — after using them. And he was giving you free range now.

Eight suits surrounded you in a perfect octagon, hands out like they were ready to strike. Tony had somehow altered his suits so that they’d shoot bubbles — of all things — instead of small blasts and said you’d only be alive if you managed to take them all down before a single bubble came out.

A small grin unwittingly made its way onto your face.

“Glad to see you’re having fun,” Tony remarked, “it’ll come in handy for future testing. Ready?”

You nodded and ignored the bit about future testing. They might have thought they wanted you now but after they saw how much of a curse you really were, they weren’t going to keep you around long enough for future testing. You prayed that day wasn’t any time soon.

But you were ready now. That was until Tony’s voice crackled through the intercoms once more, “just make sure you don’t kill anyone of us in the process. I’d hate to miss Taco Tuesday.

You lifted your chin, “Give me thirty seconds with the enemies and you’ll have your taco.”

“Such confidence,” he remarked with a chuckle.

It was false bravado but you wanted this. You wanted out of your hell hole. So you weren’t about to let him see any of the very real fear that you actually might kill him. in the process.

You let out your power in a giant blast.

You bolted upright, gasping for breath. Black spots clouded your vision but you forced through the waves of dizziness, looking for the one person you couldn’t bear to hurt. He was supposed to have left. Your next breath never came. Bucky’s long limbs spilled over the edges of the chair in the opposite corner of the room, his phone resting on his chest. His eyes were closed, a peaceful look on his face but that didn’t mean anything. The dead often looked at peace.

Then his phone rose and fell with his chest. You held back a sob. Your relief would have sent you tumbling if you hadn’t been sitting. He was alive.

Without your blinding panic, the rest of your room came into focus. He’d left all the clothes you’d strewn over the chair in a neat, folded pile on your dresser. You glanced over at your alarm clock for the time, which was…off. Your dread clenched it’s fist around your stomach. It had been on. So had your air conditioning unit. And where was the constant hum of your ancient refrigerator?

“They’re all fried,” Bucky’s gruff voice came through the silence as if he’d actually been sleeping, “the phone gave a nice little shock when it died. Snapped me out of my sleep that’s for sure.”

Your heart was still trying to hammer its way out of your chest when you said, “You could have gotten hurt. I don’t know how you’re not.”

“I do,” he replied simply, eyes finding yours.

“No, you don’t,.” you shook your head more than you had to, “No, you can’t.”

“I can because I’ve trained with you almost every day since you got here. I know that your gift,” you scoffed at the word but he kept going, “your gift works differently depending on who and what you’re targeting. And I know you don’t target people. Not unless you have to and even then I see that it kills you to do it.”

You looked down at your sheets, hating the way his words resonated through your body, refusing to go away. But you could still ignore it.

“That might be true, but Tony has been making his suits to withstand me. In case I can’t control my powers and they hurt anyone on our side. He might say it’s in case we meet another mutant with powers like mine, but we all know that’s not true.”

“Why can’t it be both?” he huffed then took in a slow breath. It did nothing to hide the growl in his voice when he asked, “None of us are perfect, why do you have to be?”

Because, even as a full grown adult, you were afraid you’d somehow end up back in that orphanage, unloved and unwanted because all you did was ruin things. And you didn’t know what you’d do if you ruined the closest thing you’d ever had to family. Perfect kept you here. Perfect kept you safe.

He stood from the chair, and came to kneel beside your bed. He brushed aside the hair that had stuck to your forehead with sweat, calloused fingers resting gently on your cheek when he was done.

“You’re one of us now” he whispered as if he could read your mind, “and I — we — won’t let you go that easily not matter what you think of your abilities. Even if that means I have to inspect you for cuts and bruises myself after every mission. You are good, YN.”

You could only nod, taken aback by the ferocity in his voice. Still, it didn’t stop you from looking him over head to toe once more just to make sure he was okay. Then you noticed something off with him.

“Where’s your arm?”

He ran his hand through his hair, a sheepish look on his face, “it might have fallen off a few seconds before you woke up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “I hurt you.”

He shook his head fiercely, “you didn’t. I’m fine.”

“But I could have,” you protested.

“But you didn’t,” he said, “you never do. Because despite what you might think, you control this thing inside you and we all trust you with it.”

You were about to object but he stopped you by pressing a light kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back there was that lopsided little grin on his face that made you realize how light headed you were feeling, “one day we’ll get to a place where you’ll find this funny. I promise.”

And somehow, you believed him.

[tumbling-darkling]

Miraculous Ghosts

Danny and friends visit Paris and come across trouble, as well as the cities local superheroes.

Lately, Hawkmoth has been recycling villains. There are only so many people in Paris and not everyone gets emotionally vulnerable strongly enough or long enough to be akumatized. Those that do, and commonly like Mr. Pidgeon, usually had a certain fixation that was easy to exploit. The thing was, both Marienette and Chat Noir already knew their weakness, the items that would most likely get akumatized, the whole schtick. So the battles were really fast and easy.

A new face always had to be met with caution, the lack of knowledge regarding the person was dangerous and if the pair wasn’t careful, they could end up losing the battle. And their Miraculous.

With the start of summer came tourist season, and tourists could be victims of akumatization. Which seemed to be the case within the first week. 3 villains, all new faces, but the pair had gotten lucky with the similar powers that the heroes had faced before and the three were all defeated in a timely manner.

There was a short week of nothing happening.

And then all hell broke loose.

—————————————————————

Marienette knew the start of the tourist season had begun just based on the filled streets of strange faces, sunglasses, cameras, and the use of foreign languages. This also was noticed based on how busy her parents' shop had become, and how rarely she was managing to escape outside to enjoy some of summer's freedom. The good thing was she was able to brush up on some of her English, since the tourists usually spoke the common American language and the experience was always welcome to help boost her grades in the upcoming year. Even if it was a few months away.

She’d figured out the best way to sneak off during any attacks was to ‘use the bathroom’ or ‘accidently’ make a mess and excuse herself to clean up. It had worked during the first week and she didn’t have to do anything the past week since Hawkmoth seemed to take a break. She finished serving a young pair of Americans, a tall girl with orange hair, and a lanky boy nearly the same height with raven black hair.

She had to admit, some Americans had a certain charm, but the bustle of the kitchen quickly caught her attention as she was back to serving the next person in line.

Just as Chloe waltzed in, basically knocking the american boy over as she strutted to the front of the line, causing people to cast glares in her direction. The boy hissed when he fell, the American girl offering to help him up in English as he shook his head and stood up, dusting himself off as Marienette went to deal with the walking form of pure rich privilege. “Urg, Dupain-Cheng’s dingy little cafe? Of course she works here, it just smells like burnt bread.” She huffed.

Marienette bristled, but put on her customer service smile, noticing the poor Americans victim to Chloe leaving the shop. She was hoping to offer them a replacement after dealing with Chloe but it was a little late now. “Ma’am, unless you are here to pick up an order, you will have to wait in line like everyone else.” She strained.

“Ma’am? I am Chloe Dubois! I don’t need to wait in line like some sort of peasant! Just give me whatever you didn’t make.”

Marienette had to swallow down any returning insults and put down one of their most expensive items, handing it over with a clearly strained smile, ��have a nice day.”

Chloe huffed with her baked goods in hand but left as soon as she appeared, allowing Marienette some relief. Very little damage. A little annoyance but nothing worthy of an akuma-.

An explosion was heard from outside, and Marienette groaned internally.

She just had to jinx it.

—————————————————————

Ladybug dove off to the side as the villain shot out a ray of white, plasma-like energy. Adrien, fighting as Chat Noir, and his partner were having a hell of a time with this dude. He spotted the chaos on the news, the villain calling himself ‘Black Hole’ and giving his poor Lady a hard time. When he finally arrived on the scene, he wasn’t able to do much either.

The villain was basically a godly powerhouse, floating in the air, shooting burning rays of heated plasma, or even ice! Ice and plasma! Sometimes he MIXED the two beams to create an even WORSE beam! Whenever either of the heroes got close enough to land a hit, their punches and kicks would go right through him. Then he would DISAPPEAR. REAPPEARING AND LANDING ANOTHER HEAVY BLOW. He would fly around like gravity was non-existent, and these abilities didn’t stop there. Every so often, he would yank out this thermos looking thing and shoot out these wormholes. Or… possibly black holes. Calling them black holes felt wrong though… since they glowed green and swirled before disappearing after a few moments.

The villain's outfit was a change of pace too. It was impossible to figure out his age since he was completely covered in a thick fabric material that reminded him of space suits. Yet looked a lot less bulky than actual space suits, thin yet sturdy metal covered his forearms, and formed a backpack that was attached by a wide metal collar that spread to his collarbone and slightly covered his shoulders, as well as a metal strap that wrapped around right under his chest. A plated, metal belt circled his waist with a clip for the green black hole thermos, and thigh high boots with a similar fabric to his suit covered most of his legs, thick plastic looking platform soles attached at the feet. Black bands wrapped around the ankles of the boots. A helmet covered his entire face, a metal frame covering the bottom half like a muzzle while the top was a tinted glass dome following the shape of his head, the inside of it entirely black except for the eerie glow of a single, left eye. The helmet had a tube on the back of the helmet that connected to his backpack, but neither he or Ladybug could figure out if it was essential or for decoration. His entire colouring was monotone, much bleaker than their previous villains. His suit was black, the boots, forearm cuffs, belt, backpack and collar were all a middle shade of grey, the only flash of colour being the glow of the single toxic green eye amongst the darkness of the helmet.

The dude was disturbing. He didn’t make any sound, in fact he seemed to ABSORB the sound around him. Like they were in space.

Paris was getting destroyed more and more by the second and the two didn’t know what to do. The Lady’s lucky charm turned into a thermos, which she didn’t have a clue how to use in the situation in front of them. Maybe it was a hint? A clue about soup? Or getting the villains thermos?

The problem with the last idea was that neither he or Ladybug could TOUCH this villain. And each of them were getting worse and worse for wear by the second. He could tell Ladybug was getting ready to get some sort of help, but who could make something untouchable… touchable? Chat even tried to use cataclysm on the villain's thermos while Ladybug had distracted him, but he twisted at the last moments and grabbed Chat's hand, draining cataclysm before he tossed him aside like it was nothing.

Another blast of plasma sent the two tumbling away from each other, and then a blast of ice caught Chat off guard. Cold shot up his arm as his muscles convulsed, a scream caught in his throat as the ice trapped his arm in such a tight and sturdy prison. He twisted to try and use his free arm to claw the other out of the ice, a shadow in the corner of his vision causing him to twist and jolt in surprise as the villain stood right in front of him. The glowing green eye was cold as it bore into him, and the villain grew closer and closer, drifting off the ground and absorbing every noise around him, the air around them dropping to freezing temperatures. Chats breath formed in front of him as gasps, panic clear in the quick breaths, fear intensifying as the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and blood roaring through his veins.

The villain's hand shot out and grabbed his free one- the one with his miraculous.

Chat heard Ladybug cry out as the villain gripped onto the ring, a quick glance showing she too was trapped.

That she was next.

Chat tried to keep his fingers curled, but he was battered and weak, and the villain hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Prying open his fingers was easy, the ring vulnerable. This was it. He used cataclysm too soon and now he was powerless. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t save anyone. He was a failure. This was the end of Paris.

They lost.

—————————————————————

Fucking. Vlad.

This entire trip had Danny on edge and it was all because of Vlad.

At first, he thought maybe, for once, Vlad wasn’t being a piece of shit when offering the family a fully paid trip to France for two weeks. He was suspicious. He probably just wanted the family out of town to do some shady shit. But a two week trip to France wasn’t the WORST thing a man could do. Especially in comparison to kidnapping and cloning.

But then his parents got sick. A common flu. Right before the trip. And they wanted Jazz and him to experience Paris. Then Vlad offered to be a chaperone.

It was all a play to get Danny alone for two weeks and try and manipulate him.

He did manage to get Tucker and Sam to tag along, something about friends being his family and the two unused tickets his parents left behind. But Vlad knew how to separate the group. How to corner Danny at the worst moments and whisper annoying remarks in his ear as he tried to get away.

He survived a week. He only had one more week to go. Tucker and Sam were off checking out some places for lunch while Jazz and Danny went to pick up sweets for everyone to share after their meal.

Vlad was off doing who knew what so Danny had put him to the back of his mind.

The cafe they found was… well it smelled incredible. There were so many baked goods on display and the air was filled with the warm and sweet smell of the goodies. He let Jazz do most of the talking, she wanted to practice her French and Danny had recently discovered that being dubbed the ghost king meant that now he had a natural grasp on all verbal languages, including the dead ones. This meant his speech in French was almost flawless, and his understanding was like he was listening to someone speak English. He couldn’t read other languages though, just speak them. He was told though by a few locals he had an odd accent. It wasn’t an american one, just… odd.

So Jazz ordered the treats and the pair was headed out to meet Danny’s friends.

Then some blonde girl with way too much make-up basically knocked him to the ground, not even sending him a glance that indicated she knew what she did. It was annoying, but he dealt with bullies on a daily basis back at Amity Park. Well… used to. But he knew better than to waste any thought on some jerk like her. He sadly looked at the ruined cat paw shaped cookies, the icing ruined and the cookies crushed under his weight when he fell.

Standing up with the help of Jazz, they left the shop as Danny insisted on finding somewhere to wash off the icing stuck to his shirt. He liked this shirt too… he hoped it wouldn’t stain too badly. It was better than ectoplasm at least, that stuff needed to be burned out, there was no such thing as washing out ectoplasm.

Jazz asked to help, but Danny brushed her off, telling her he could easily clean himself off by himself.

And then Vlad chose that moment to corner him.

—————————————————————

“Hello Daniel.”

Danny splashed water wildly as he spun around to glare at the older Halfa, hissing out an ‘Ancients!’ in surprise. “What the hell, Vlad?” He spat, “sneaking up on a kid in the bathroom? I should just call the police and tell them about all that stalking you like to do.”

“Aren’t you tired of this childish game?” He hummed.

“Not really, seeing as I’m a child and I love games,” Danny sneered.

“I’m older, more experienced, and stronger. I am also patient, little badger. And it’s easy to wear you down. By the end of this trip, you are going to be begging to be my-.”

“Son? Pet? Little slave that does everything you ask? Sorry, Vladdy, but I ain’t the type to listen to crazy fruit loops. How about you go enjoy the company of your French rich friends like that Agreste dude instead of stalking me and trying to get with my mom and kill my dad. Might do you some good to make more friends than just your cat.”

“Oh Daniel, you throw your petty insults but I know ways to break you even further. You know, a lot of accidents happen in Paris. Terrible things.”

Danny felt his eyes flash as he spun on his heel, “listen to me, if you even consider-!”

“Not to mention your brand new ghostly responsibilities as… the ghost king? Imagine that. A child as the king. You don’t even know everything about ghosts.”

“Neither do you!” Danny spat.

“Oh but I know so much more. And I could easily teach you-.”

“Just shut up!”

“When you mess up, when the ghost zone begins to fall apart, you will wish you took my offer, but I may not be as forgiving when that happens.”

“I said shut up!”

“And we both know the moment the ghost zone falls apart, so will this world. All because a boy became king and didn’t take help he was so graciously offered.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Something inside him shifted, and Danny suddenly felt his mind cloud, a deep voice echoed his mind.

“A cruel man harassing a young teen that wants nothing to do with him. A shame when someone can’t take a hint.

Black Hole. I am Hawkmoth. I can give you the power to show this old man that he never should consider looking in your direction ever again.

All I ask is for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. Do this for me, and Vlad Masters will never be an issue for you ever again.”

Danny’s clouded mind and building rage smirked at the offer, his voice echoing as he glanced up at Vlad who was giving him a confused look. “Yes, Hawkmoth.”

Darkness engulfed him and then his memory began to fail him.

—————————————————————

A boomerang slammed into Black Hole’s head, causing it to jerk to the side and a small crack formed on the glass that was hit. The metal boomerang dropped to the ground and Black Hole slowly looked down at it as a robotic voice cried out from it, “ghost detected!” And then a recorded voice spouted out, “take that, spook!”

Black Hole’s head slightly tilted at the noise it made, a hand subconsciously rubbing the crack it left behind. Then he twisted his gaze back to Chat Noir, going back to taking the hero’s miraculous.

Then a shout came from behind Black Hole and Chat caught the eyes of a teenage girl yelling and holding a bat over her head. Black Hole twisted, his body turning that transparent look whenever Chat or Ladybug had tried to hit him before, and Chat knew that it was useless. “No! Stop! Get out of here-!” He screamed at the citizen, but stopped when the bat connected with the villain's head and sent him flying into a wall.

Chat was at a loss for words for once in his life, watching the villain slowly pry himself from the wall from being hit by a baseball bat when he and Lady couldn’t land a single hit. He looked back at the citizen and shrieked as she raised the bat above her head and swung down at him, flinching and squeezing his eyes shut. She hit something, causing it to shatter and then- his hand was free!

He opened his eyes and looked at his hand in awe and then back at the girl, “who the heck are you?”

She huffed, dropping the bat casually on her shoulder, “Sam Manson. Friend of the idiot that didn’t do his research before taking a trip here. I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

Chat blinked, “you- you know that’s your friend? And knew this would happen?”

Sam shrugged, “the booo-merang is never wrong. And yeah, my friend there is not exactly the most emotionally stable person on the planet. Sorry it took us a while to get here. You guys really do move fast.”

Chat just opened and closed his mouth a few times, then yelled as she suddenly swung the bat again and smacked the villain in the gut as he got close during their exchange, knocking him sideways but not down like the first time. Black Hole turned again, making a snarling sound before he was blasted by some sort of green ray and sent flying sideways, rolling along the pavement before smashing into a car. Another teen jogged over with Ladybug behind him, dropping his hands to his knees as he wheezed, “I have ran… way too much for this to be considered a vacation.”

“M’Lady-, what is going on?” Chat asked.

“This is Tucker, and his friend Sam, and they know how to help,” Ladybug quickly explained, glancing back at Black Hole. “We need to draw his attention and get that thermos off of him, then Sam and Tucker can use this,” she held up the thermos from her lucky charm, “and we can get his akuma.”

“Akuma is in the thermos, knock it off,” Chat summarized. He heard his miraculous beeping, a sign he was close to his limit.

“Let’s end this fast.”

—————————————————————

Ladybug held the booo-merang in one hand as the two teens and Chat drew Black Hole’s attention, the teens equipped with weapons that seemed to get past some of Black Holes abilities.

She narrowed her gaze, waiting for the perfect moment, then threw the weapon, watching it arch in the air then knock the thermos off of the villain's waist. The thermos clattered to the ground and drew his attention, he quickly twisted and dove to try and retrieve it, which was when a bright beam erupted from the polka dot thermos Ladybug had given the teens. The beam caught the villain's legs and he was tugged back, his form pulling towards it like taffy as he twisted and a horrid scream of anger burst from him. He tried to escape it, flailing and reaching for anything to hang on to, but in a matter of seconds he was pulled into the canister and Sam slammed the lid shut. The screaming stopped and Ladybug made her way over to Black Hole’s thermos, stomping on it and crushing it, releasing the Akuma hidden inside. With a flick of her wrist her lucky charm turned back into its original form, dumping Black Hole onto the street, then the butterfly was caught and purified, and another click of her miraculous, she let the little bug flutter away harmlessly. With a shout, ‘Miraculous Ladybug!’, everything around them was engulfed in black and red as the damages were undone around them.

At last, the villain's form was released of Hawkmoth's influence and it left a lanky teen laying on the street. He slowly sat up with a groan and a hand to his head and she then realized it was the same teen as from the shop. So once again, this was Chloe’s fault. She turned her attention to the two teens that helped her, noticing Chat let out a hasty farewell and thanks and disappeared around a corner. “Thank you, both of you. Without your help… well, without your help we may have lost that battle. But how in the world did you do that?”

“What the fuck just happened?” The teen groaned, “I feel like the booo-merang smacked me in the head like… fifty times.”

“That’s because I may have smacked you a few times with the fenton creep stick,” Sam shrugged as she helped her friend up who gave her wide eyes in return.

“You fucking what?”

Tucker took a step forward to answer Ladybug’s question, “let's just say back in our town, we have very specific supervillains that have abilities that make it hard for regular attacks to land. So we have specialized gear. Sam and I did a bit of research before heading here and figured if any of us got Akumatized, we may reflect some of those traits.”

“I… see…” Ladybug hummed, “and where did you say you were all from?” The three cast a few glances between each other, but before any of them could answer, her miraculous beeped angrily as she quickly realized she was out of time. “Thank you again for your help, if we could meet again to exchange some of that tech to make sure this never happens again-,” she quickly tried to set up a meet up before Sam held up a hand.

“This won’t happen again. A lot of what happened here is very unique to Amity, so once we finish our vacation, you won’t see this kind of thing ever again.”

Ladybug only had more questions but the angry beeping only forced her to nod and bid a quick farewell before getting out of sight to let Tiki take a rest. Marienette held out a few macaroons for Tiki as her thoughts swirled in her head. The questions about the odd American trio and how they knew how to deal with a villain as unique as Black Hole.

She may be able to corner them later. They did say they had to ‘finish their vacation.’

And in the meantime, it was time to do some research on this place called ‘Amity’.

—————————————————————

Danny didn’t remember a lot of what happened while he was the villain, Black Hole. It was like a dream, he kinda remembered the feeling, vague details, but nothing specific.

What he wished he remembered was whatever he did to Vlad. He must have done something because his memories cut out right after Vlad harassed him in the bathroom and after the event, the froot loop avoided him during the entire trip. Even refused to make eye contact!

What he would give just for a few seconds of that memory! Or for someone to have recorded it!

For now though he got to reap the rewards, flashing his eyes green when Vlad would glance over and causing the man to flinch. Oh man, he was going to abuse this newfound intimidation ability till the bitter end.

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 2

AN: I’m so glad you guys liked the first chapter!! I’m sorry it’s taken longer than expected to get out!!

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences.

In This Chapter: You wake up to find Zemo has taken you hostage to find out information on the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau. 

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,721

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language

Zemo caught the young woman’s body as her eyes rolled back. He couldn’t help but let out a grunt as he lifted her up over his shoulder to remove her from the sewers before her accomplice could catch up. 

As he returned to the surface, he peered around the surrounding streets and then carried her over to a parked car. 

He placed her down beside the vehicle as he worked on opening it and getting it started. 

Laying her across the backseat, he made sure he had another syringe handy in case she woke before reaching the desired destination. 

Zemo pulled inside the large building, one of the many he confidentially owned, and removed the flagsmasher from the vehicle before taking her down to the basement of the building. 

He took a moment to remove his large coat as he began to sweat, tossing the expensive garment on the ragged old couch in the corner of the room. 

He carried the girl to the shackles on the wall and stood her up long enough to get the cuffs around her wrists and the thick metal band around her neck. It was a precaution taken to stop her from kicking off the wall if trying to escape. 

Zemo tipped her head back to allow access for the band to wrap around her neck, clasping it on wall behind her. He contemplated removing the flagsmasher mask but ultimately decided it would be easier to gain information from the woman if he couldn’t see just how young she was. Was it wrong for him to admit that? Yes. But he knew it would keep it less personal this way. 

He chained the girl’s ankles together before wiping his brow with his handkerchief and returning to fetch his coat. He figured she may not wake for a while so returned upstairs to make sure the site was secure. 

--

Zemo was grateful when he finally noticed signs of the woman stirring. He had waited long enough to be able to get his hands on one of Karli’s acolytes. 

He introduced himself but you already knew who he was. 

“We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.” Zemo admitted. 

“Like what?” You scowled at the man. 

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.” Zemo pressed his hands together behind his back as he looked upon you. 

You scowled at the man with his mention of Karli. 

“Why would I tell you anything?” You scoffed. 

“Because if you don't, I will simply find the means to force you to.” Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he spoke. 

“Go ahead and try.” You daringly invited him despite the hard knot in your gut. If someone had told you that taking the serum meant being stuck in some freaky torture chamber with Helmut Zemo a few months ago, you weren’t so sure you would’ve taken it. 

Zemo was infamous both as an agent of Sokovia and for single handedly ripping the Avengers apart. 

“Are you really that willing to die for someone who doesn’t even know or care where you are?” Zemo frowned, tilting his head at you. You tried to deflect his mind games but there was a speck of doubt starting to crawl into your mind. 

“They’ll come for me.” You proclaimed. 

“Perhaps they will.” Zemo shrugged, “Perhaps they’ll willingly come to their deaths or perhaps they’ll leave you here to be a martyr for their cause.” 

“You can’t beat us all.” You argued against his threat. 

“On the contrary, I can.” Zemo lifted his finger, his lips turning up into a small smirk as he began to slowly move around the room. “I have experience, and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

You tried watching him through your mask that had become increasingly more uncomfortable the longer you wore it. 

You decided against fuelling the fire and remained silent. 

“What's the matter?” Zemo cocked his head towards you. “Cat got your tongue?”

Again, you chose not to respond. 

Zemo quietly scoffed as he started to approach you. 

“Holding your tongue, Miláčik, will not aid you in any way.”

Once he seemed close enough, you tried to jolt forward against your restraints but ultimately failed. 

You choked against the metal neckband and your wrists cried out against the cuffs. They had been much stronger than anything you had encountered before. 

“Vibranium.” Zemo gestured to your holds. “Very difficult to get hold of and very expensive.”

Zemo’s fingertips pressed together as he studied you. You were avoiding eye contact with the man but instead searching the room for any way to get out of your restraints. 

“There is no escape.” Zemo announced as he clocked your behaviour. “The only way you are leaving this place is if you give me the location of Karli and her comrades.” 

“I’ll be leaving this place in a bodybag you mean.” You spat back. 

“Well, that all depends on how long it takes for you to give me what I desire.” Zemo’s smirk dropped. He lifted his chin slightly, glowering at you. 

“Fuck you.” You sneered. Zemo didn’t react to the deprecation, his face cold and hard as he stared unblinking. 

You almost thanked the universe when Zemo’s phone began to rang. 

Zemo answered it swiftly, walking off to the furtherest corner of the basement to take the call to stop you eavesdropping in any way. 

You tried fighting the restraints on your ankles but they were just as strong as the holds on your wrists. You wondered how long Zemo had planned to take one of you hostage. You internally scolded yourself. You should have been more careful. 

“I have some business to take care of.” Zemo interrupted your thoughts as he pulled his mobile away from his ear. “If I were you I’d consider my options whilst I am away. Once I return, we shall be having a little conversation one way or another.” 

You felt an ice cold chill roll down your spine from Zemo's threat. His voice sent goosebumps over your skin and his eyes held enough power to kill you right there.

You watched Zemo climb the rickety staircase without a second glance back to you. 

Sweat began to roll down your forehead under your mask. You growled, rubbing it against your arm to try and remove the damn thing. It didn’t take too long before it was clattering against the floor and you felt like you could finally breathe again. 

You inhaled the damp air deeply and rested your head back against the wall. 

Your mind diverged back to Deedee, you hoped she had gotten out before Zemo could have done anything. You knew he’d take her out if she tried to help you, he only needed one of you alive for information. 

You closed your eyes to try and hone in your senses. You tried to listen for any hint that might tell you where you were. The building was eerily silent despite the howling wind from above; you figured there must be some kind of broken window or hole in the wall causing the whistle. From the state of the room around you, you could tell this was an older building, vacated for a while. 

You couldn’t hear any cars, planes or voices. You had to be somewhere pretty secluded from the rest of the city.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the latch of the door at the top of the stairs. 

Zemo’s footsteps were heavy as he descended back down to you. 

Your eyes found his hands as he rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbows. 

“Are you ready to talk?” He asked. When he lifted his head from his arms back to you, he froze in his step. Not that you noticed. 

His mouth closed and his jaw seized as his eyes absorbed your features. 

He hadn't expected you to have removed the mask. He recognised you from the mugshots but you looked very different in person. 

You were young, with soft features and your eyes were narrow with vexation. You were also very beautiful. He couldn’t deny that. 

He had to drop his eyes back to his sleeves when he felt an odd familiarity about you begin to impel. 

“What happened to the other woman I was with?” You asked, taking a minute before responding to the man. 

“She left you.” Zemo announced. You felt a wave of relief, realising that she escaped unharmed. 

You watched the man turn his back on you, approaching the small metal cart to his left and picking up a small scalpel. He examined it as he spoke. 

“This isn’t personal.” Zemo muttered. “I have no quarrel with what you are trying to do. It’s how you have decided to do it. Super soldiers should not be allowed to exist. I have spent years trying to end the super soldier line and I won’t stop until my work is finished.” 

“Until we are all dead.” You corrected him. 

“Not all.” Zemo shook his head. “You may still have a chance of survival after all this.” 

“To live whilst the people I care for are dead? That isn’t a chance I want to take.” 

“You may care for them but I am certain they don’t care for you. Your so-called comrade left you alone in the tunnels despite your cries about trouble. Your death means nothing to them.” Zemo finally looked back at you. “You were a sacrifice they were willing to make.” 

You were hesitant to answer. You knew Deedee had only left because you had commanded her to. The team must all be sat around now wondering where you were, wondering how to get you back and if you are still alive. They wouldn’t just leave you. Karli wouldn’t leave you. 

“How can you expect me to give up any information if I know you’re just going to murder them if you find them?” You catechised Zemo. 

“Murder is a strong word. Would you say you murdered those innocent people in Vilnius?” Zemo’s mention of Vilnius made your stomach twist tighter. Nausea began to creep up on you and Zemo noticed the paling of your complexion. “Everybody has a breaking point. We just have to find yours.”

AN: NEW PART NEXT WEEK! Ask to be added to the taglist to keep up to date with all new parts!

Taglist  

@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97 @shannon-posts @dxnxdjarxn @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @trelaney  @sierrabaltzer  @daydreamer-in-training @e-barba @ornella0910 @natty13 @bry-97 @cherieweasley @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda @candicerace @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005 @viviace @fillechatoyante @sapphiredreamer26 @misssilencewritewell @caligrl1992 @bbakugaan03 

[saturatedboy]

Hai! I have another request ( if it's okay ) can you do a donna x fem pirate reader where Donna is just wondering around with Angie when she found a portal to another dimension that leads to a beach where the reader's ship is alongside the shore then they went to inspect it but ended up being caught by the crew and brought her to the captain of the ship ( which is the reader )

Donna Beneviento X F!Reader

Quick talk, this will be in two parts. I missed some of your idea to keep for the next part because I had ended up getting caught in writing this that I completely forgot to check through the request again. My deepest apologise for that but I promise to have the next part up soon.

Part 2- https://saturatedboy.tumblr.com/post/657437883445166080/donna-beneviento-x-fempiratereader

Requests: Open

Words: 3k

The fragrance of sugar and chocolate had diffused around the small room. Sat back in her chair was none other that Lady Beneviento, Donna. Brining the china cup up to her slightly chapped lips, she sipped the Earl Grey tea and sighed in delight as the steaming liquid ran down into her stomach system. Gently placing her cup down, she looked to the other side of the small round table that was surrounded by nature's plants. At the other end was Angie, the doll, chewing down on some Victorian sponge cake. Donna raised her dainty hand to her lips to hide the small smile that had sketched itself onto her face. Keeping her lips pursed together, she held in the chuckle that threatened to escape from Angie having some icing around her mouth. Pushing the chair out, the metal scraping amongst the wooden floor, Donna had raised herself out from her chair and walked over to Angie, picking up a napkin that was settled in the middle of the table.

Making her way towards Angie, she took the doll's head within her hand and dapped at the white smooth icing that had coated her mouth. "I know you can't feel but please do try to be careful when eating." Donna spoke softly, folding the used napkin up and placing it next to Angie's now finished plate.

"Yeah yeah, I know. But now we have had our afternoon tea, I think it's time for an adventure!" Gliding up from her own chair this time, which was stacked with books so Angie could reach the table when sat, the doll had grabbed it's toymakers hand and whooshed out through the many corridors.

"Angie, I wasn't finished with my drink," The whine came from Donna's mouth, her veil flying behind her unmasked  face as she tried her best to keep up with her doll's quick speed when flying. Angie however completely ignore the cries of Donna and dragged her to he front of the manor by the cloak rack. A stern look had edged its way onto Donna's features as she was still upset about her tea going cold.

"I will make you more after a walk in the woods!" Angie swirled herself around the cloak rack and grabbed a black cloak for Donna to ear. Twirling herself around Donna, Angie placed the cloak on and tied the front into a bow. "There now lets go!" Donna shook her head slowly and flipped her veil over her face, only to follow Angie out of the manor, still wishing she could of finished her cup of tea.

"10 green bottles on a wall...10 GREEN BOTTLES ON A WALL!" Donna mentally screamed in her head as she listened to Angie scream. Although her behaviour would be accepted in the manor, Donna was very against of any attention outside her territory, which to her was mostly the manor.

"Angie, please keep it down a little," She whispered, closing her eyes as she followed the familiar path through her woods. Angie groaned loudly and dropped her arms to place weight onto her float. She let her eyes turns about as she started to spin in the air to give herself entertainment since she wasn't allowed to be loud.

"Spinning I am, spinning indeed." Angie talked to herself as she continued spinning, completely unaware of Donna having her eyes closed behind her veil as she herself was subconsciously following Angie's voice. As Angie was spinning, being unaware of her surroundings, she came connected to a rather large tree that had branches sprouting far and wide. "OW!" She screeched, altering Donna of the sudden pain. Donna opened her eyes and hurried towards Angie who was now sat on the dirt floor looking up at what she knocked into. "WOAH!" She cried out as she was back up floating around the large trunk. "When were you going to tell me you have a huge tree!?" She questioned Donna, circling around the trunk once and gliding towards Donna to settle onto her shoulder.

"I...didn't." Much just like Angie, Donna was also curious about the tree. She knew her territory like the back of her hand and she was more than sure that this tree had just came out of nowhere. Kneeling down onto the slightly soggy dirt, she inspected the large roots that were coted in a slimy orange substance. Dragging a finger through the slime, she fiddled with it between her index and thumb. "How strange, I haven't seen anything like this before."

"Oooooo maybe it's magic!" Angie threw her hands wide, her head doing a full 360 as she wriggled herself about on Donna's shoulder. Donna wiped the substance off her fingers onto the ground, pulling herself back onto her feet as she stared through her black veil at the now growing orange. "Erm Donna, what did you do?" Angie asked, watching as the orange had sprouted its way higher up the tree from the roots, to the trunk and so on, accompanied by a slight rumbling erupting from what sounded like inside the trunk.

"I have no idea Angie!" Shielding herself and Angie with her hands by crouching and hugging Angie close, Donna closed her eyes as the orange glow grew lighter and brighter in colour, changing into a warm white. She felt her body became much warmer as her head began to spin. Not knowing what was going on, she felt the faint touch of breeze brushing through her cloak. Letting herself fall onto her side, Angie still in grasp, Donna curled around and let whatever was going on to happen.

"-off mine. Go scrub the lower decks Decker."

"And why should I! I was only takin' a look!" Donna groaned as she felt the sudden feel of sickness wash over her body. She curled tighter as she felt like her body was swaying side to side. Trying to pride her eye open, she was met with the once darkness she had remember seeing from when she was first experimented on with the Cadou. A deep feeling of fear washed over her

"Because I'm the captain and you don't want to make the Captain angry now do ya boy?" Donna's fear increased at the sound of the voice. It was dripping in venom and threats that even she felt frightened of. The voice wasn't familiar either and the accent was one she hadn't heard before, Donna could've swore she knew everyone from the village, even the small children that had wished to see her to make flowers crowns with her when the festivals would be around.

"No ma'am-"

"Captain Decker. I am your Captain. Now off ye go boy before I get Slasher on ya. Beat it." The noise of heavy footprints had sped past Donna's head as she kept still, trying to keep her breathing to a minable. As far as she was now aware, whoever this captain was should be the only person left with her- wait no. Angie....where was Angie? More heavy footprints has walked past her head but whoever this pair has stopped right next to her head. Donna kept still on her side, not daring to even open her eyes in fear her veil may not be covering her face.

Silence was between all of them.

...

"I know you're awake~" The same voice, the Captain's voice this time was right above her ear making Donna squirm under the heat that came from the mouth. Shaking in anticipation, Donna shot her upper body up and pulled her knees to her chest, feeling small against the new person she has came in contact with. Looking up and keeping her eyes wide, she was in complete utter shock. In front of her stood a rather tall woman. Above average height she would compare her height to. Her hair was knotted, having a large Tricorn hat with a white feather place amongst the small nest of hair. A wide grin with small sharp teeth was scarred on the face of the female. She stood tall, a sword hanging from her hip with a long tail coat in white covered her body mostly with the front being open wide. Underneath the tail coat was a white waist coat, hugging the figure perfectly. White tights were worn with brown boots that reached the knee area. Donna's mind flicked to one word and one word only,

Pirate. Just like in the many stories she had read to Angie in the past. In front of her was a pirate, and a good looking one too in her eye. "Say there lassie, ye a long way from home ain't ya?" She spoke loudly, a chuckle rumbling her chest as she stared down at Donna. Donna was beyond speechless, did she transport world? Pirates were made up stories, they belonged in a book but the tree....the tree.

"Donnaaaaaaa," A satisfied sigh left Donna's mouth as she heard the familiar voice of her partner in crime. Looking around her space trying to find where she was, Donna saw blue the surrounded the scratch wood she was on. Looking back at the female pirate, she saw behind her an upper deck that had led to a steering wheel with a large male behind it with a pipe in his mouth. Looking behind herself, Donna saw the bow of what she now knew to be a ship. A sudden grip wrapped itself around Donna's back, a giggle escaping from whoever it was. "Donna we can be pirates! Oh this is a wonderful adventure!" Angie screamed out, squeezing herself under Donna's left arm to hug her from the front instead. Beneviento looked down at Angie, who now had a small hat on top of her grey veil.

"Angie, oh Angie." Donna huffed out as she hugged her doll close, being glad she was safe and not a single scratch on her.

"Gotta say, she's quite the hyper character ain't she. Pretty tough when up against Slasher as well. My mutt was gonna take a swig at 'er head there" Donna glared at the female pirate, feeling invaded and insulted that she would call Angie out on her character so easily like that.

"And you're just a...just a..." Donna threw her head to look back at Angie failing to come up with an insult to fend Angie's honour.

"Don't mind her, she's just head over heels for cute girls like yourself," Donna flicked Angie's head at her sudden words. Donna was sure she wasn't interested in fictional characters. Donna preferred to be clean, not like a pirate who would stay in the dirt and drink beer till they pass out inly to want a 'good time' when it was for their own personal needs. The thought of even dating a pirate sent shivers up her spine.

"I ain't no cute girl, I prefer the words dare devil or even maybe sexy~" The female flirted back, staring directly at Donna. Donna let go of Angie and stood up, her shy demeanour was long gone. She crossed her arms over her chest and threw her veil up not daring to take such immature behaviour from the other. The other had gasped, but not in shock but rather like she had just found treasure.

"Sexy isn't a word to describe such yourself- gosh I don't even know your name."

The pirate smirked, leaning their arm on the grip of their word as she lightly leaned back on her knee. She licked her teeth and smiled peevishly. "The name's (Y/n), however on the sea 'ere the name's Captain Silver-ring." Donna grimaced at the sudden outtake of the 'Captain Silver-ring's hand. She softly knocked it away from herself with her own hand and tutted, Angie watching from the side lines next to a rather buff dog which had seated itself on top of a barrel.

"I prefer it if you didn't touch me (Y/n). Contact by others isn't something I'm much used to." The quick explanation from Donna had created a head tilt from the Captain. She way beyond confused, what was a lassie doing dressed in full black even doing on her boat. Everyone in the area knew that contact was the only quick way to gain any booty, either by stealing or by taking- totally not the same.

The captain slowly nodded her head, a finger drumming on her cheek. "Okay, so ye on my boat with no thoughts of getting any of me treasure? Who are you working for? The Wooden Boot? Maybe you're a stealer for the Crow's Eye. I always knew she would try take me booty." Angie laughed out-loud drawing the attention of all the sailors on board the ship, even Donna.

"She said booty!" Donna covered her eyes slightly, feeling embarrassed. Her she was, a new world with new people and she may end up dying here. Great...just great.

"So if ye not 'ere to steal me booty, why are you 'ere then?" (Y/n) asked suspiciously as she then began to circle Donna, making her feel smaller than ever. Under the intense glare that (Y/n) gave out, Donna could only whimper slightly until the same light headed feeling came back to her just like before she came to be transported here.

"I don't know, I just somehow got here." Donna mumbled, letting herself drop to her knees with her head hung down. (Y/n) waited and stared at Donna, only getting bright eyes when she signalled everyone off top deck. Hurried feet ran down below, leaving just the captain, Donna, Angie and Slasher on top as night began to roll in.

"I never got ye name," (Y/n) said, kneeling down but keeping distance away from Donna after remembering she didn't like contact.

"I'm lady Beneviento-"

"A LADY! Oh my gosh, Where are my manners." Donna raised a brow as she lifted her head, it swirling around a bit, and watched as (Y/n) bowed.

"My Lady Beneviento-" A quiet gasp came from Donna's mouth. Never in her life was she ever called by 'my'- it was oddly comforting.  "-I am Captain Silver-Ring, name belonged to me mother who used to be the greatest pirate of all times. I am in her place as Captain of the white vessel, I strive to find the treasure she never found."

Angie began to bounce up and down, the sudden energy that surrounded them all made her giddy- especially the loudness of (Y/n)'s voice. "An what is that treasure?!" Angie asked excitedly, seemingly slightly affected by the same feeling of Donna with the light headedness as she would use her hands to steady herself straight.

"Well, it's simple- kinda." Donna waited for an answer, her vision slightly blurring as she looked up at the Captain who was now on two feet. Swinging her sword out, she raised it high as the sunset light had bounced off the silver blade. "And that is to find the perfect woman to be with forever!"

Just like she was hit with cupid's arrow, Donna fell suddenly to the ground and felt the same sickness run over her body. She dropped in temperature as she held tightly onto the cloak that covered her body. Closing her eye, she sucked her lips in and bit on them to keep her mouth shut. She didn't feel like throwing up t the moment, gosh no but the burning sensation building up in her stomach would want to beg her to.

Voices rang about in her mind as she curled once again. Letting ridged breaths out through her nose, she no longer smelt the salt that had clogged her nose when she was on that ship. Instead a smell of pine and mud filled her senses. Staying laying down, Donna waited until she felt like she could move and not throw up. Expecting when she opened her eye to be faced with the cocky smirk of the pirate, she was surprised to find Angie- without a pirate hat- looking down at her. "Looks like we are back home." She said, letting herself glide up into the air.

Donna closed her eye and re-opened it. Indeed this was her home. The smell of the mud was familiar to know. Pushing herself up, light headed still evidence within her mind, she watched as Angie looked behind her. "Ya know, that was quiet the adventure. I think we should do it again tomorrow!" Angie exclaimed as she pointed at something. Following her finger, Donna looked behind herself to realise the tree that had gotten themselves into that mess was still there.

"I think I'll skip." Donna said, letting herself lay in the mud. Angie hovered right over Donna, looking down at her with a smirk.

"Too afraid to face Captain Silver-ring?" She teased, wagging her finger at Donna making fake kissing noises. Donna scrunched up mud in her hand and threw it at Angie who laughed in returned. With slightly rosy cheeks, Donna protested against the idea of seeing the Captain again. "Okay okay...maybe I'll show Lady Dimitrescu the tree! ooo I bet (Y/n) would love her. A lady who loves danger, how perfect their match would be."

For unknown reasons to herself, Donna couldn't help but scoff at the name of Dimitrescu. "You know what, I will go back tomorrow. Not like we have much to do anyway," Donna dragged out, her scowl still on her face. She wouldn't let Dimitrescu see her, oh no. She wouldn't allow it.

She found Captain Silver-Ring first, she shall be the one to see her again. "Is this you saying you love her~"

"Angie love is a strong word, one I'm sure Pirates don't use. I'm only going to gather more information- who knows maybe mother would like this tree." Donna bit her lip after her sentence. "Or- we just keep this tree to ourselves and leave it like that?" She questioned mostly herself but either way, Angie replied with a grin.

"Maybe we could help her find a lover and we could ask for information in return to give to Mother Miranda!"

"Yeah....lets do..that." As Angie floated away back to the Manor clearly excited for the next day, Donna stayed laid in the mud questioning herself. A sudden flash back of the Captain's grin came into her mind making her hit her cheeks. "No no Donna, you are a Lady. She is a Pirate. A really...really- awkwardly nice pirate." Closing her eye, Donna laid there silently enjoying the look of the Pirate in her mind on repeat. How weird- she was enjoying remembering the new Captain. A new world.

Her now favourite adventure.

[bvccy]

Friend, if you are still open for request, can you please do Heliotrope with the Winter Soldier? 🥺 please thank you 💛💛💛

My dear 😭 I am so so sorry for how long this took! I just hope you can enjoy the fic. It’s a little bit spooky at the beginning, but WS is soft and so is our reader. And they get their happy-ever-after 💗

Thank you very much for this prompt also! 🌺🌺🌺

— PAIRING: soft!Winter Soldier x female!Reader — PROMPT: Heliotrope - walking in the sun, and losing each other — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

They had been living in darkness for months, and the oppressive cold that battered against the walls with fierce winds all day, and hungry howls at night — not that one could tell night from day in the sunless vastness, except by the ticking of the clock.

Hydra had installed that arctic facility at the mouth of a crater, covered by ice over the ages to conceal its dubious treasure. It was clear to the Soldier that the treasure was not made up of precious things, but it was only when the crew finished digging all the way down that he understood why all the scientists were there...

It was difficult for him to tell who the shuttle belonged to. It might have been some advanced technology from America, but then how did it get so deep down, so quickly? Maybe it was an old German prototype from the war, but it didn't look like any he'd seen before. Or maybe Hydra was just recovering their old property from past attempts... It didn't matter, he was just there to guard the scientists while they did the work.

The other soldiers stationed with him stopped taking the job seriously after the first three months, but he kept watch, and paid attention, and didn't miss the odd slimes that seeped across the floor out of those metal shells, nor the odd crunch as the scientists cut into something that looked soft and milky, but held like bone. And the smells, the cold metallic smells like iron dipped in silver... It sometimes felt like home, but he knew better than to let that grip him. And he kept watch.

The one chemist that doubled as the chef didn't make particularly good meals, but they were hearty, and if he was being honest, he was eating better at this isolated station than he did at the Base — felt freer too, almost in charge of his destiny, if one didn't count the frozen wastes he'd have to survive if he ever wanted to run. But the Soldier couldn't imagine why he'd ever wish to run.

Especially when she was here.

Studying the files of all the scientists on the mission, her portrait stood out as particularly sad, morose, with a bit of a death glare toward the cameraman. But when he actually saw her, she seemed sweet like a spring day and even happy to be there. She looked up into his eyes as she walked into the protected area to study their find, blinking up from beneath a mess of furs and protective equipment, but there was a smile crinkling around her gaze. As the months drew on and everyone got more bored with staying there, and loose with themselves, they'd sometimes play some music in the lab, and the Soldier didn't know why he liked it so much or felt the need to dance with someone.

The military staff initially had their own mess hall, a small room with a kitchenette where they could eat together, but then one of the doctors needed it to test the effects of temperature changes on some of the samples, and the place was... contaminated every since. Now, they all ate together. The girl who'd caught his eye tended to eat with her own team, the Geologists, but he could feel her looking at him sometimes, he noticed her lingering when he was around even if she was about to leave, and a few times she even dared approach him — under the excuse of getting the jar of sugar that was on his other side rather than reaching for the one next to her, or leaning down to get some plate she didn't need from right by his knees. It wasn't until she tried to reach a glass above his head, beyond her grasp, that he gave in and acknowledged her.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the cup — the first time she'd ever said anything to him. Her voice suited her, but beyond its soft tones the Soldier was struck by being thanked at all. When was the last time that happened? What did one say in response?

"You're welcome?"

And he seemed so unsure saying it that he made her giggle.

She was inevitable after that, not because she was trying to be found but because he allowed himself to be around her, to guard her door while she chipped at stones and studied them, to sit near her during lunch — not right beside her, the Soldier still had a lingering shyness about that, but at least on the table opposite, from which they could look at each other if they wanted.

The long night was almost over, four months into their stay at this forsaken place, and the pair had taken to something really dangerous: in the small barn attached to the base, where some dry supplies were kept along with canisters of fuel, they escaped together while everyone else slept. He had led her there first, asking timidly whether she'd...

"Want to see something new?"

"Always," the girl grinned.

And so they found themselves piled on top of one another like firewood, almost not feeling each other beneath the layers of fur that kept them warm, but just being in each other's presence was... something. It was quiet without being quiet, with another real soul there, thinking its own thoughts in harmony with you.

The Asset wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, though he did close his eyes sometimes and let the girl relax against him, and doze off, and during those times he allowed his arm to come down from where it propped his head up and wrap itself around her, holding her still — as if she were in danger of falling off some imaginary bed.

Nobody ever seemed to wonder where they both disappeared to, nobody noticed, which was why he was all the more surprised to hear shouting on that day. The Soldier didn't move, just tightened his arm around his little partner more. But when a bloodcurdling cry echoed through the vastness, he shook her awake.

"Wha—"

"Get up. The base is under attack," he muttered, reaching for the rifle laid beside him.

"That's crazy, who would attack us all the way out here?"

He didn't want to tell her what he thought, but only made her hide out in the shed while he went out to scout the area. Turning his radio on, nothing came through. There were no helicopters around, no trucks, no marks in the snow that anyone had attacked — at least, not from the outside. On the horizon, just the rays of a reluctant dawn were shining.

There was silence for a while, and then another symphony of screams rang out, muffled by the walls and the desperate shots of whoever was left inside, glass and metal knocked over, broken, and silence once again. Stepping away slowly, then more hurriedly, the Soldier returned to where he'd left the girl and picked her up by the elbow.

"Come on, we're leaving."

"Leaving where?" she cried out, confused and even slightly angry. "What's going on?"

"We're under attack."

"But our research..."

The Soldier dragged her to where the trucks were parked, and after the first flush of confusion she went along quietly. He gave her the rifle to hold while he looked in the back, making sure they had enough supplies for whatever drive awaited them — gas was there, some blankets too, and more ammunition. It would have to do. And without sparing another moment, he got in beside her and drove off. Against the rumbling of the engine as it drifted on the ice, a shrill scream cut through the frozen air and reached them, not sounding human nor animal nor like anything in the world, except perhaps a demon. The girl didn't look back, she wouldn't dare, she just looked quietly at the Soldier as she slowly understood. They drove into the sunrise as its rays burned away everything behind, and the snowdrifts buried it.

They didn't stop until the sky was bright as a midday, many hours later.

"Are we slowing down?" the girl mumbled sleepily.

"We're nearing a town," he said, eyes on the GPS. "Need to check that the road is clear. And that we are, too."

She stretched the shivers from her bones, but deep down she trusted the Soldier to keep them safe.

Getting out in what-felt-like days, frozen stiff, muscles aching from the shot of fear that penetrated down to her bones, the girl got out and reached for the sky with all she had. The air felt freer and fresher than ever before, even though it still hurt her lungs when it reached to their very bottom, but she loved such a pain — it felt like life.

The Asset walked slowly to her, just watching silently and smiling a half-smile at the sight of her all ruffled and soft, and safe.

"What do you think happened to the base?"

"Guess it's a mess by now," he hummed, bringing one gloved hand to feel around her head, her shoulders, down her arms, but always gently.

"We woke that thing up, didn't we?"

"You're the smart one, you tell me."

Her lips pursed — she never liked it when he teased her, but she tried never to reproach him for it, loving this sign of his personality shining through. "Are we far enough away now?"

"I don't know," he sighed, finally looking back into her eyes. "Are we?"

"The sun would kill it."

"How do you know that?"

She didn't answer but wouldn't look away either, and her determined gaze was enough for him. She did know more than he did, she'd spent months studying whatever that was, and that was fine by him. So long as none of it had managed to sneak on board.

"Stay close to me."

They walked around the car together and he checked the back, the wheels, then climbed on top and checked there too. Through the clearness of the day, he could even see the edges of a road that must've lead to that town. The car seemed clean, but they were close enough to a rescue that he'd rather not take any risks, and so picking up just a few useful things and one backpack, they started walking.

The snow got less deep and crunched beneath their boots, the wind was gentler downhill and even moved through the tendrils loosened from their hoods, shaking off the frost. In the distance, one tree stood tall, thin and dark and barren but alive, and over all of them the sun kept shining.

"We're almost at the road," said the Soldier, spotting a black snaking line a few meters ahead. He turned his head when he didn't hear anything back, but there was only the glint of sunlight on the snow.

Amorphous fog covered the horizons, and hills and dales of white, and suddenly the light felt very hot and burned his body as he turned frantically around and called for her. With mad fear, he traced back their steps up the snowy hill, nearly swimming through it as he called for her, terrified of the unthinkable.

Then, as if from the sea, a lone hand reached up and waved at him. Within one breath, he'd reached her, sitting in the snow just a few feet away.

"I'm so tired..." she huffed, burrowing like a rabbit. "Can't we rest a while?"

"You didn't rest enough in the car? Get up," he grumbled, pulling her up to her feet. He regretted snapping as soon as he saw her sad little face, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I was worried."

"I'm sorry too, for being so weak..."

Before thinking, he pulled her in and kissed the snow off her mouth. "None of that," he smiled as their lips parted. "Come on, we're so close. I'll carry you a bit if you want."

The girl shook her head mutely, face already flushed from frost but now truly heated. To be cared for, and worried about, and searched like that, and kissed... It put the life right back into her.

He kept his word and carried her in his arms at one point, but they both walked in the town together. Nobody knew who they were or where they came from and some had a few murmured questions, but by the time Hydra sent an extraction team for them, it didn't matter — they were gone, lost in the wind like two rays of sunshine.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉

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𝐵𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹: imagine-all-the-fandoms said:

Hey you 💕 I’m so in love with your imagines, you’re a great writer! I hope it’s okay to send smth in as well ☺️ a Bucky one for where you’re crushing each other and head to a mission together in the snowy mountains where you get trapped by a storm in a cute cabin. First he’s all shy around you but in the end it’s all cute as he makes a little fire and shares his clothes to keep you warm which also leads to cuddling and finally sharing a kiss and even some loving smut when you finally admit your feelings ?

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Smut, 18+, Fluff, friends to lovers, shy Bucky, fluff, did I mention fluff? Plant stuff? you’re kinda like that bitch from sky high lol

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒: this is too cute and I had so much writing this, i feel it radiates like huge cottage core energy but in the snow XD anyways hope you like it bug and thanks for the request!!

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You were walking from the greenhouse/garden room holding a small plant when you bumped into a much larger figure, accidentally dropping said plant.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the voice said.

“It’s ok. I’m sorr-” you stopped.

The person was Bucky and under his big black boot was your little baby plant that you were taking to your room to nurse. You stared at him with a shocked and upset look on your face and Bucky stepped back to see the poor plant squished on the floor. 

Wanda was a bystander and rushed over to help clean up. She used her powers and mended the plant pot back together but the poor bud was still wilted. 

“Are you guys ok?” Wanda asked, handing you the pot with the wilted plant. 

“You squished my plant,” you said monotonously.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, panicked.

You playfully shook your head in disappointment trying your hardest to burst into giggles. It was ok because it’s what you do. You did… plant stuff. You weren’t exactly sure what your abilities were but you did know that you worked with plants very well.

You looked down at the bud and softly blew. Sage green magic circled the plant and life went back into the little sprout. Bucky’s panicked expression softened as he watched you use your magic. The way you smiled when the plant came back to life. That proud smile you had on made him smile too.

“There. All better,” you looked back Bucky. 

“All better,” he repeated with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n. Bucky,” Steve called you from down the hall.

“What’s up?”

“Fury needs you two in the conference room, says he’s got a mission for you two,” Steve walked away after he informed you both.

“Lead the way darling,” Bucky gestured his hand forward.

“Ah, you’re here. Why do you have a plant in your hand?”

“Bucky squished my flower under his boot,” you said.

“It was an accident,” Bucky mumbled.

“Moving on. I have a mission for you both in the alps. Some thugs are trading alien plant life so I need you,” he pointed to you, “to collect some samples for Tony and Bruce and Bucky will be there to protect you. If any plants die or get frozen you know what to do.”

You were plenty capable to handle yourself but you’ve never had to do so in the snow. You generally stuck to warmer and sunnier places when it came to missions. Bucky was pretty used to the snow so he knows to survive better in case you get stuck; but that won’t happen obviously.

“Wheels up in 30.”

You got to hide out and you were sort of struggling considering you had maybe seven layers of clothes on. You felt like a big puffy marshmallow waddling your way to the crime scene. The mission was somewhat successful, Bucky had really done all the work fighting and you just ran around tying up bad guys with vines and holding little seedlings in your pockets.

All was going until it didn’t. The wind picked up quickly and snow started thrashing around you and the others. You were fighting on the side of a hill, well Bucky was. You were still running around trying not to get shot. There was rumbling and the ground shook under you. You looked at Bucky who had taken down someone and his face held fear and concern. 

“Run!” he yelled.

“Where!” you started running anyhow.

“Follow me, doll!” 

You tried your best to run through heavy snow and with many many layers of clothes on you but it was becoming a struggle. Especially running against the wind made it a challenge on its own. Bucky was far ahead of you but thankfully turned back to grab your hand effectively dragging you alongside him running from the tumbling snow chasing after you. 

“Think you get us above ground? Maybe a tree? Rock platforms?” Bucky shouted, still running with his arm up to prevent snow and ice from getting in his eyes.

“The snow’s too thick and the wind is too strong,” you shouted back.

“I’m sorry,” you shouted shakily.

Before Bucky could respond the snowfall did a hiccup before finally settling within feet of you and Bucky. You two were exhausted and if you had to run any further, you’d probably be consumed by snow because you barely had any energy left in you to keep running.  

The wind was still harsh and the snow fell rapidly making it almost impossible to see even 5 feet in front of you. 

“We should find shelter,” Bucky said close to your face. Your nose was nearly numb from the cold and the warmth from Bucky’s proximity made it almost feel like it was burning. 

“I’m just following you,” you said with tired eyes.

After what felt like hours of walking you were practically dragging your feet and legs across the thick snow. The blankets of snow  glistened beautiful and sparkled under the sun. despite the sun now being out the weather was still almost unbearably cold. Your body still shook from the chill.

“You know, I’ve never liked winter. It was always so plain and boring with all the snow. And it’s so fucking cold; I’d rather be laying in the sun in a meadow. But this,” you circled your arms and twirled, “This is beautiful.”

“You what’s even more beautiful?” Bucky held your hand.

“What?” you said shyly.

“That cabin up ahead,” he smirked, and you smacked his chest.

“Well then, come on. I’m still freezing my butt off, and surely the seedlings in my pocket are frozen too,” you started treading the snow, grunting every step.

You got inside after a few tugs because the lock was practically frozen shut. The cabin was seemingly abandoned, else the hosts would certainly be surprised. Nonetheless, Bucky searched the house for anything to give you warmth. You stood in the living room area of the cabin awaiting instructions from Bucky since he seemed to know what he was doing. 

“Hey, doll. It looks like this place’s got two fireplaces. One here and in the master bedroom. Take your pick.”

“How long will be here?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve hardly got any signal to send an alert.”

“That means we’ll probably spend the night. We should use the bedroom.”

“You can use the bedroom. I set a fire in the fireplace there, and then I’ll set one up out here for me when you’re taken care of,” he said.

“I thought we were sharing the room,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. See you had this little, itty, bitty, tiny crush on the fellow. But how could you not? He was perfect! You certainly weren’t going to waste the opportunity to share a bed with the guy if you ‘had to’. 

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he smiled softly.

You walked to the back room where the master bedroom was and it was beautiful. The bed was disassembled, the mattress was leaning to the side on the wall and the bed frame was taken apart. Bucky moved the bedframe to the side and flopped the mattress down to the floor. 

“Let me check for any blankets in this place,” Bucky ran off. 

You looked around and walked into the connected bathroom. To your absolute surprise there were small plants, unfortunately dead, and pots filled with dried out and chalky dirt. You could work with that. 

You picked them up and took them to the bed. You sat on the mattress and placed the pots in front of you on the floor at your feet. You pulled out the frozen seedlings and plants and placed each one in their own pot. 

That same sage green magic circled your hands and traveled to the pots where the dirt grew damp and the seedlings grew into buds. You smiled to yourself before looking up, eyes meeting Bucky’s who watched you with a grin on his face.

“It’s amazing what you do,” he said holding a bunch of blankets.

“It’s nothing.”

“No-” he was interrupted from the branches of the trees right outside the room baniging against the window hard. 

“Oh no. storm’s picking up again,” Bucky mumbled.

“Are we gonna be ok?” you asked.

“”We’ll be fine. Now are you hurt?”

“Just cold,” you whispered.

“Ok if you feel uncomfortable let me know and I’ll leave you ok?” you nodded.

“I need you to take your layers off until you reach your thermal.”

You zipped down your snow jacket that was incredibly wet from all the snow from outside. Next was a layer of your snow pants after you took your snow boots off, which were also wet; both the pants and boots.

Bucky helped you with the rest of your layers under you simply wore a thermal and your undergarments underneath. Your body was shaking still and the fire still wasn’t on yet. 

“Here are all the blankets I could find. Warm yourself up while I turn on the fireplace,” Bucky walked outside to gather some stumps of wood that were conveniently stacked next to the front door. He came back with a rock and banged it against his metal hand to create sparks which thankfully successfully lit the fire. 

“Are you feeling ok?” he asked shyly.

“Sort of, but the fire’s going so I think I’ll feel better very soon,” you responded.

Bucky was about to leave you and make his own fire in the living room when you stopped him.

“Buck, you don’t have to leave,” you said.

“Thought I’d give you some privacy,” he responded.

“I don’t need privacy, besides the fire’s already made. Just stay here,” you scooted on the bed for him to sit.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Come sit,” you smiled and patted the spot next to you.

He sat with you very closely and you feel his body heat radiating off his body like a heater. He asked if it was ok if he got rid of wet clothes too and you let him. When he took his last layer off he accidentally lifted his thermal shirt with it exposing his lower stomach. The muscle of his abdominals surprised you and you couldn’t help but oogle.

Bucky’s cheeks grew red and not from the cold. You two sat in silence. Your body was still trembling slightly and bucky wanted to help you. He just didn’t know if you;d be comfortable with the particular survival tactic. 

“I don’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable but body heat and skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm the body.

“Bucky, are you making a move on me?” you giggled.

“Uh no- sorry I, uh I-”

“I’m just teasing,” you smiled.

“I want to help you,” he whispered.

“Ok.”

Bucky moved away slightly and reached for the bottom of your shirt hesitantly looking to you for permission of which you granted. Your arms came up and the thermal slowly peeled off of your cold body. You were simply left in a bra and your arms covered yourself in coldness and also slight insecurity. 

Bucky also took his thermal off and tossed it to the side. Your eyes trained on his torso littered with little scars and bruises that made you want to reach out and hold him. He leaned back on the mattress and lifted his hips to remove his thermal pants and then looked back to you to make sure you were still ok.

You stood up and quickly discarded your pants as well as seeing Bucky turn his away from seeing you undress; which made your heart warm at his manners. When you were done you sat back down much closer to Bucky this time.

His arms wrapped around you and both your legs hitched over his thighs as you curled into him. His body was so hot, figuratively and literally. Your body instantly warmed up against his hardened muscles. You stayed this way while the fire burned and Bucky told you stories about him and Steve back in the 40s before everything happened. 

There was a moment of silence that settled between you and you looked into Bucky’s eyes. His hand came up and softly brushed the air from your face. You leaned into hand and smiled faintly to him and he smiled back. 

Bukcy leaned his forehead down to press against your and you could feel the tip of his equally cold nose on yours. You looked at each other waiting for the other to say something, anything.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered back.

“Please.”

Bucky lips attached to yours ever so gently. Your body practically melted against him, chills raising on your skin but not from the cold. His hands caressed the skin of your stomach and ribs and you moved straddled his thighs.

You felt growing wet from the way he held you tenderly against him. You started grinding yourself against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard pressing up against your core. Small moans and breathy sighs emitted from you and Bucky and his hands roamed to your ass. 

Bucky’s lips went to neck and you threw your head back for him and threaded your fingers through his hair. Bucky nipped and bit down on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue and dragged it down to your collarbone. 

You reached around and unclipped your bra and Bucky tossed over to the pile of clothes you had discarded beforehand. Bucky looked down at your chest for a second but averted his eyes to prevent you from being uncomfortable. 

His hands however kneaded the flesh of your breasts; insanely warm against your skin. 

“You’re so pretty, darling,” Bucky whispered in your ear making you shudder.

He flipped you over; the blanket fell to the side making your nipples harden from the chilly air. He stood up to remove his boxers and ran his hands up your legs sensually playing with the hem of your panties you still had on. 

He looked at you with gentle eyes before you nodded eagerly for him to take them off. After he did he crawled up body before settling between your hips. His cock was settled against your pussy and it practically throbbed, aching for more. 

He pumped his cock with his hand a few times leaning down to capture your lips with his. When he slid inside, you moaned loudly taking a hold of his shoulders with your hands. Bucky was huge! Nothing like any of your past lovers, not that you really many. 

“Hold on, hold on. I just need a second,” you told Bucky. 

He leaned down and pressed kisses all over your face; your hands cupping his face and jaw giggling. You looked into eyes once again and nodded letting him know that it was alright to move again. 

Bucky was in absolute heaven right now.

Your walls felt so soft and velvety as he easily thrusted in and out of you. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead. His hand reached down your arm and he intertwined his fingers with yours resting by your head. 

Bucky had been dreaming of this moment longer than he’d like to admit. He never considered himself to be a shy person; and definitely not jealous either. But when he met you, he always stuttered and stumbled over his feet and words barely getting a working sentence out of his mouth. 

Whenever Steve or Sam spoke to you, and generally flirted a lot of the time, he envied them for being so relaxed around you. He’d wanted to ask you on a proper date and take you home to worship you like you deserve; wake up next to you and make love all over again. But he couldn’t say hi without turning bright red.

But here you were, a dream come true, squirming, whining and moaning beautifully under him. 

“You are so gorgeous, baby. God, I can’t believe you're here,” Bucky kissed you. 

“Oh, Bucky you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, baby you’re taking me so well,” he praised.

You both moaned feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso driving him deeper in making you practically scream in pleasure. Bucky’s hips snapped in and out of you wildly desperate for that release he knows is going to be the best he’s ever had. 

When the coil in the pit of your stomach burst your back arched into Bucky and his face buried into your neck as he practically growled in pleasure. 

“Fuck that was amazing,” he kissed your neck and chuckled.

“Why are you always so shy around me? We probably could’ve done this way sooner,” you patted his back. 

“I, uh-”

“There you go stuttering again,” you giggled.

“I’m sorry. Y/n, I really like you and I have since I’ve met you. I don’t know why I feel so brain dead whenever I’m around you. I used to have no problem asking a pretty dame on a date, but when I met you, I couldn’t even say hi let alone ‘Hey wanna go on a date because I think you’re the most beautiful angel I’ve ever met in my goddamn life?’ It felt impossible,” Bucky sat up and sat you on his legs still wrapped in the blanket. 

“Bucky, I- oh,” you gasped.

“What?” you pointed to the wooden floor of the cabin. There were small buds and patches of grass coming through the cracks of the floorboards. There were also vines and branches covering the walls coming from the floor as well.

“Oh! Did I do that?” you looked back at him and he nodded.

“Oopsies,” you giggled.

“What if we had sex in the garden?” Bucky asked.

“Oh my gosh, Bucky!” you laughed.

“What?” a smile grew on his face watching you laugh in pure delight.

“You’re so silly,” you shook your head before yawning.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go sleep and we’ll see what’s gonna happen after the storm passes,” Bucky kissed you goodnight and you fell asleep comfortably in his arms.

___________________________________________

@mathletemadison 

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