#if I don’t get a winter release this year I wILL go feral

[mrsbridgerton]

I just want benedict bridgerton on my screen again is that TOO MUCH TO ASK @netflix

[buckyownsmylife]

I’ve Told You Now - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where alpha!Bucky fucks you in front of the other avengers

Warnings: smut, a/b/o dynamics, public sex, oral (f), p in v, possessiveness

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you to my lovely @wakingbeauty​ for giving this a read for me! This is strictly the product of mine and @navybrat817​‘s belief that public sex should be more common in A/B/O dynamics, so there you have it 😊 Also, I used a prompt the sweet @jbreenr​ gave me ages ago for a headcanon and I asked to save it for this story since it made such perfect sense! Hope you guys like it! I might write more public sex A/B/O smut in the very near future!

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Everyday was the same. I’d wake up and join the rest of the team for breakfast to find out that despite the fact that someone had saved me a seat, that same someone had thought of a new joke to make at my expense.

If I thought Tony’s nicknames were bad, this was a whole new level. It’s like she wanted to find all the little ways to annoy me, while still remaining mindful of my recovery process and triggers.

I’d never met an omega like that before. Back in my time, omegas were mostly prim and proper, almost shy around alphas, even if they were starting to show a little more skin and entertain the possibility of staying closer to us for longer periods of time.

I wasn’t used to someone who felt so comfortable with my intimidating aura, and the alpha in me definitely couldn’t grow used to seeing so much of her skin all the time. By now, I was sure she was doing it on purpose.

She knew how it affected me, she could smell it - every omega was able to identify when a nearby alpha was aroused. And I knew it turned her on in return. I was also biologically wired to sense that.

It was basically a game of who would break first. And I knew she thought she would win, but my resolve still wasn’t broken.

“Ah… What a lovely day. So full of possibilities… if you’re not a hundred years old,” she quickly added, throwing me a glance that had me rolling my eyes. “What do you say, grandpa? Feel like going out for a run?”

Who knows what I would have answered if she hadn’t decided to pull her hair up right at the second Wanda opened the window to look out into the field? The smile that had been on my face quickly dropped when I was hit with a heavy wave of her scent and my knees buckled as I tried to hold myself back from just jumping on top of her.

Unfortunately, because awareness was not something she seemed capable of having, she did not realize my struggle. “What’s wrong, old man? Can’t even keep up anymore?” The growl that escaped my chest at her joke was all the warning she needed to finally understand what was going on.

“I’ll show you what I can keep up.” I was on her in a second, my consciousness of our surroundings reduced to absolutely nothing. It was only her and me, and the way our lips moved as I guided her back to the couch, until we both fell on top of it.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” I asked as I tore her shirt with a simple flick of my wrist. “Is this how you wanted it to happen? For me to lose all control and just take you right here?” All that left her was a garbled sound, her hands clawing at my back as I easily got rid of her jeans until they were nothing but scraps on the floor and then exposed her pussy to the tower’s living room.

“Fuck yes,” I growled, immediately leaning down to get a taste of her. Sweet and wet and mine, all mine. I had no idea where that possessive instinct had come from, but I would be crazy to ignore it - especially since it felt like I’d kill and die for her at that very second.

Her hips jerked up, instinctively searching for my tongue, but a breeze of clarity seemed to brush over her and make her sit up on her elbows, looking down at me. I knew what was running through her mind before she said it, and I wasn’t having any of it.

“You better lay back down and let me savor my meal,” I warned, knowing the rest of the team had gathered around to watch the show. I didn’t have to take my eyes off her debauched state to know it, but her gaze was on them, even if the rest of her body was still spread open for anyone to see, uncaring of the fact that we were being watched.

“You poked the beast, now you’ll entertain it,” Steve warned, shaking his head as if to scold us, but when I met his eyes, I could see the glint of desire in them. He wanted to be in my position, he wanted to have his own tongue shoved deep inside my girl’s pussy, and it only made me eat her more hungrily.

“Eyes on me, ‘mega,” I called out to her once I saw her eyes linger on Steve. “Let them watch, that’ll keep them away from you.” She groaned at the possessiveness in my words, but it was the sounds of someone who was relishing in it. And I was relishing in her juices.

“Fuck!” She cursed when I buried my tongue as far as it could go in her, something deep inside of me desperate to be drowning in her scent. “Should have gotten you mad before.”

The thought was amusing to me. Did she really think this was only the result of pent-up anger, and not months of desire and lust that had finally spilled from my weakened resolve?

“Well…” I started, pushing two fingers inside of her to scissor her open for me, although my scent had already made her body as prepared for an Alpha an Omega could get.

I was a bit larger than usual Alphas, though - courtesy of the serum - so I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t go through any pain whatsoever. “You keep me mad all the fucking time, kitten.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“With desire or anger, it doesn’t really care,” he continued, like it was any ordinary day and we were chatting in the living room, our usual teasing banter taking over the conversation, instead of him eating me out on the couch in front of all of our teammates while I was spread out for their eyes to take in.

“You’re always a tease to me, in one way or another.” His huge hands massaged the inside of my thighs as he finally lowered himself to suck on my nub again, making me instinctively buck my hips up in search of his tongue.

“Stay…” he ordered in his Alpha tone, and the whine that broke free from my chest was more animal than human now. The way he used his mouth was nothing short of sinful, licking me from ass to clit with an eagerness I had never expected the former Winter Soldier to have.

But I guess today I was discovering all of my fantasies about Bucky had been a bit misplaced. For one, I never thought he’d be the type of Alpha to take me in such a public environment.

In every dirty dream I’d had, Bucky was far too possessive to allow anyone to explore what was his - even if it was only visually - but what I’d come to learn was that while he was definitely dominating, there was a hint of exhibitionism in his craving.

He liked to have people see him break me into a million pieces only to glue me back together with a lick of his tongue. He liked that they were seeing his talent - and I had to admit, by what I saw in his friend’s stare, that they were also admiring me too.

And he got off on that. I didn’t expect it would make me get off too.

“Delicious,” he hummed when he finally pulled away from my cunt, having brought me to my release and licked it off of me. Still, an overwhelming amount of wetness covered the lower part of his face, prompting me to raise myself to my elbows and lick my own juices off of his lips, the omega in me begging to scent him as mine.

“You’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t you?” He chuckled once the surprise faded away, easily manhandling me onto my stomach, the sound of a zipper being opened denouncing that he had undressed.

“Keep fucking me and you’ll find out.” I heard him spitting behind me, a shiver running up my spine as I realized he was playing with himself while looking at me presenting for him.

“Oh, I’ll do much better than that.” That was all the warning I got before I felt the head of his member poking my entrance, slowly but surely sliding in until he had bottomed out.

My whines became intensified when he pulled me up by my hair, his free hand covering my breast to rub my nipple as he whispered, “I’m gonna claim you, sweetheart. You think you’re ready for that? Think you’ll be able to take it?”

I was quickly realizing I had severely underestimated the man inside of me, even if not to the extent he thought I had. I was not ready for that. I don’t think I ever would be, but fuck if I wasn’t gonna take it anyway.

Because it was so much better than I ever imagined it to be.

“No more playing hard-to-get,” Bucky continued, finally starting to move and immediately settling on a punishing pace. “No more teasing me with your short skirts and tempting scent. You’ll be mine now, ‘mega. Forever. How does that sound?”

God, I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to keep exercising this complete control over my body that he had so easily managed to take. His cock was stretching me in ways I’d never been stretched before, his inflated knot slamming against my opening with each thrust.

“Always mocking me… Am I too old for you now?” I shivered as he licked a stripe up my neck. I knew he wouldn’t actually bite me in front of everyone - a claiming ritual was a sacred ritual, even the most feral of Alphas respected the intimacy of that. But the way he was taunting me was all too arousing, I couldn’t deny it. “Tell me.”

His hand squeezed my hip, looking for an answer. I tried to open my mouth, but nothing came out. His palm slipped further down, finding my clit, and as two fingers rubbed my own juices, around it, I screamed.

“N-No!” Bucky chuckled against my neck, body continuing his onslaught against mine as he nuzzled my scent gland. “Y-you’re not too old for me. Take me, take me please.” His coos were too provoking, making me cry out loud at the mocking sound.

“Aw, kitten…” His warm mouth breathed the next words against my ear, “I already did.” He turned my face towards his with his fingers tangled in my hair, engulfing my mouth with his.

“Alright.” A familiar voice spoke from not too far, startling me for a second as I once again was reminded that we were still very much surrounded by our team. “You two might just be the sexiest mates I’ve ever seen fuck.”

A growl escaped Bucky’s chest at hearing someone refer to us as mates for the first time, and I panted in need, desperate to cum, desperate for him. “Seen a lot of mates fuck, Romanoff?” He nibbled at my ear, hands roaming over my body as if to make it very clear to every person watching that they could look all they wanted, I was still his.

“You have no idea.” Looking over a bit to the side from where she was seated, there rested Sam’s almost limp body, a hand curled over his boner as his eyes never wavered from the place I was connected to the man behind me.

“Well, I know what I’m gonna think about tonight.” Something between a laugh and a moan escaped me, making Bucky growl again, hands pushing me back down onto the couch as his hips picked up the pace with which they’d ruin me.

To say I was soaked was the understatement of the century. I could feel it, running down my thighs, drenching the couch underneath me. I don’t know how we’d be able to use it again, but that was the least of my concerns in the moment.

“I am begging you to let me lick her pussy after you guys are done,” came Tony’s voice, and I knew Bucky would growl in his direction just from the way his fingers pressed tightly on the flesh of my hips. “Not that type of Alpha, sorry, I got it.”

I heard his footsteps retreating quickly, probably scared of what Bucky would do to him once we were done, but in the Alpha’s defense, Tony seemed to disappear from his mind the second he left the room, all of his senses directed to me and his goal of making me cum around his cock.

“C’mon, kitten,” he whispered, fingers easily locating my clit to play with me as he pulled me up to rest against his chest one more. “Come for me, milk me dry.” That was all I needed to give him what he wanted, and although I was anticipating to moan loudly as I creamed his knot, his mouth covered mine to swallow all of my sounds in a deep kiss, hands protectively covering me while pawing at my breasts at the same time.

“Steve,” Bucky called after he managed to catch his breath, having fallen on top of me on the couch once his knot popped open. “I won’t be able to work out with you today.”

I looked up as best as I could to find Steve already staring at us, although red from head to toe. “That’s understandable,” he spoke in a thick, rough voice that I barely recognized as his. “You seem to have worked out enough already.”

Bucky stopped running his nose against my cheek at his friend’s attempt at teasing, a slow smirk taking over his face as he joined me and stared at his friend. “Oh, I’m not nearly done,” he warned. “You’re more than welcome to join us for some cardio, if you want to.”

The soft smile Steve sent our way told us everything we needed to know about his plans for the evening.

[moriiartist]

BACK TO NAVIGATION...

The tag list can be found here!

OVERVIEW...

SYNOPSIS: In order to get into the holiday spirit, I have decided to release ten special oneshots featuring our favorite block men! These stories mainly revolve around Christmas traditions (hence the title of the series), and contain plenty of tropes that I like, so I decided to beat you over the head with them. 

SCHEDULE: Once per day from December 15th to December 24th!

STATUS: Started 12/15/21, Finished 12/24/21

MASTERLIST...

12/15/2021

Don’t Kiss And Tell (Please Do) | C!GoodTimesWIthScar x GN!Reader | fluff & angst | 3.4k words

To say that you had a crush on Scar was an understatement- it seemed like you had been pining for the man forever. However, despite your desire for more, you are firm on not doing anything to ruin your current relationship- even if that meant going to extreme lengths not to get caught standing under any mistletoe. (Un)fortunately for you, it seems some other people might have a different idea...

12/16/2021

Two Mockingbirds (And A Parrot In A Pine Tree) | C!Ethoslab x GN!Reader | fluff | 3.3k words

(Office AU) Under normal circumstances, you would have never gone to the holiday party your coworkers threw every year. However, getting dragged by your best friends was far from normal. Oh well, at least you can make fun of their drunken shenanigans with your long-time work crush.

12/17/2021

It’s Elves, Not Gremlins | C!Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader | fluff | 2.7k words

(Mall AU) Working as Santa’s helper at the local mall wasn’t the most exciting way to spend the holiday season, but you weren’t about to start complaining about it. Well, not until you had to pry off a trio of feral children who decided to attack the Santa. At least their older brother(?) is kinda hot.

12/18/2021

Tchaikovsky Lovers In Your Area | C!Georgenotfound x GN!Reader | fluff | 4.6k words

(Highschool AU) After joining your high school’s drama production of The Nutcracker as a costume designer, you’re mortified to learn that you’ll be working directly with George, who not only plays the Nutcracker, but is also one of the most popular guys at school. You can only pray you’ll survive until New Year’s. 

12/19/2021

Frost Bites | C!Sapnap x GN!Reader | angst & fluff | 3.5k words

(80s AU) Spending Christmas with your friends in a remote winter cabin sounded like a great idea on paper, but when you throw in some unresolved tension with the resident hot-head and an unexpected blizzard leaving you snowed in, things are bound to go off the rails.

12/20/2021

Picture Perfect | C!Dreamwastaken x GN!Reader | fluff | 3.3k words

(Modern AU) Every year, your town throws a winter festival to celebrate the spirit of the season. And, this year, you were hired to take pictures of the event to be shared on social media. You were a little anxious about the job, but you definitely weren’t expecting the son of the organizers to start flirting with you.

12/21/2021

Peppermint Chai | C!Foolish Gamers x GN!Reader | fluff & mild angst | 4.5k words

(Modern AU) It’s your first Christmas since opening your own café, and in the spirit of the season, you’ve gone all-out with decorating. You love serving families, always happy to see parents doting on their children despite the bitterness that comes without having anyone to celebrate the holidays with. However, one sassy lost child later, and that might not be the case anymore…

12/22/2021

It’s The Most Wonderful Time (For Me To Kick Your Ass) | C!Technoblade x GN!Reader | fluff | 4.6k words

(High School AU) You and Techno have been self-proclaimed ‘rivals’ since the seventh grade, constantly trying to one-up each other every chance you get. Now that the holiday season is getting into full swing, it’s only logical that the two of you make Christmas decorations a competition as well. The winner gets to decide their prize, and you aren’t losing this thing for the world.

12/23/2021

No Way Home (But Aren’t I There?) | C!Mumbo Jumbo x GN!Reader | fluff & angst | 3.1k words

(Modern AU) With all the flights home grounded due to a freak blizzard, it’s looking like you have to spend Christmas Eve alone. To top it all off, your phone is almost dead, leaving you with no way to call your family. Maybe the guy next to you has a charger…?

12/24/2021

That’s The Way Things Happen (On The Polar Express) | C!Grian x GN!Reader | fluff & angst | 2.6k words

(Polar Express AU) Ever since you were a child, you’d been able to see the mysterious train that would appear to pick up the other children on your street every Christmas Eve. Unlike them, you were never invited aboard. However, upon returning home from college for the holidays, you’re met with the sound of a train whistle outside your bedroom window…

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

[liyazaki]

Reveal Your Watch & Rewatch Drama List

thank you @billlkin @itoldsunset @villaneelle & @spicyvampire the tag! 💖 I was watching seven shows at once (help) until a bunch wrapped in the last week or two, so don't be fooled by the short list.

currently watching

Cutie Pie- I'm just having so much fun watching Cutie Pie... they're giving me everything I wanted & I'm loving every minute.

Cherry Blossoms After Winter- too many people are sleeping on this sweet, gorgeous little show. The romance is so tender & I would lay down my life for the precious baby boy that is Haebom- just look at him (& no- the mains aren't actually stepbrothers).

starting soon

KinnPorsche- I felt pretty neutral about the show, then that trailer dropped & hello, insta-feral. I'm beyond ready for a dark, twisty BL clearly made for the grown sluts out there with nary a university campus or engineering gear in sight. (Apr. 2nd)

Gameboys S2- I was starting to lose hope we were ever going to get a second season (fun fact: they shot the movie & S2 at the same time), so I'm feeling blessed that I even get to write that. (May 22nd)

Cherry Magic: The Movie- *insert high-pitched 'eeeeeee' squealing ad nauseam* (Apr. 8th)

GAP- this blog's about to be one big sapphic free-for-all when this starts. abandon all (non-wlw) hope, ye who enter here. (start date: ??)

Oh! My Sunshine Night- I'm so excited to see OhmFluke my beloveds in a drama that was quite literally made for them. (start date: ??)

To My Star S2- another one I'm vibrating with anticipation for- we are truly being blessed in the year of our BL Lord 2022. (start date: ??)

Between Us- excited we finally got a release date (Nov. 2022) & it's going to be long- as in UWMA long (16 eps!)

rewatching

I've only had one 'true' rewatch recently (i.e. watching a show all the way through) so except for #1 & #2, these are just go-to comfort shows I'll sporadically watch an ep or two of for my mental health.

I just finished a random Gameboys rewatch, ironically on the same day IdeaFirst announced S2. I'm not saying I single-handedly manifested this; I'm just saying stranger things have happened.

@flukenatouch & I will be starting our own little UWMA rewatch soon involving Thai desserts, bingo cards- the works ✨

Love By Chance (AePete/some Tin/Can scenes only)- I have no clue how many times I've rewatched LBC for the mind-melting sweetness that is AePete...honestly, I don’t want to know.

History 3: Trapped- another one I have rewatch amnesia for (ignorance = bliss), mainly for the Jack & Zhao Li scenes.

Cherry Magic- CM is the visual equivalent of a warm hug for your soul & I will never not want to rewatch it.

I'm really missing my Light On Me boys lately & the most perfectly-executed love triangle of all time. maybe a rewatch this week- before even more new shows kick off- is in order (she says like she isn't a working professional with 10,000 obligations).

I will rewatch ITSAY & IPYTM until my dying day- that being said, I've got to be in the right headspace to rewatch (i.e. in the mood for total mental-emotional-spiritual annihilation #angstwhore).

no-pressure tagging @nanons @jaehwany @rose-nebulijia @lettucebeshrimp @icouldhyperfixatehim @suzukibeanes @snimeat @aheartandashirt @ommited-miscellaneously @rashfcrd @absolutebl @negrowhat & anyone else who wants to join in!

[jeonshookith]

I wanna share all of the jikook fics I have saved in my phone tabs (1/2)

if you see a reoccurring theme no you don’t

these are all so so good and a majority of them are chaptered or longer one shots since i don’t like reading shorter fics!!

99% of them are completed

these are in no particular order, just as they are opened in my tabs

i did not write any of these fics. i am not claiming ownership.

these are ALL ao3 links

Illuminate -incomplete as of 01/12/2021 but the author updates regularly-ish. (Its 54 chapters so far!)

The Gentle Centaur and The Sea Flower

Waiting on the One (Peace has decided to release this as a book! available on the Kindle App with Kindle Unlimited! u can search the title)

bone appétit

Rubies for A King

the prettiest prize.

heavenly bodies

you put a spell on me

Dazzle Me With Gold

Winter Song

i'm packing a bag of bad ideas (every time i'm thinking of you)

Chasing Broken Dreams

set my love on fire

why don’t you review me?

count your blessings

My Heart’s On Fire For Your Love

the nightbird and the kitten

Paper Planes

Smash or Pass?

Promise I’m Still With You

The One

Flowers in Hades

My Promise

The God of Fertility

Vanilla Baby -chef’s kiss 😘

Rain and Tangerines

Greece and Roses

Tender Peach

Park’s Anatomy

Nanny

Let's Tessellate ♡

In violence I found you -incomplete as on 01/12/2021. The author updated the title issuing hiatus. 2/3 chapters so far.

(Pick me up) - Playing With Fire

Wax, Wane

Strong eyes -update as of 08/27/21 :( i wanted to reread this and realized (i’m devastated) this is not finished. 12/? hasnt been updated since 03/2020

Black Rabbit -incomplete as of 01/12/2021. i’m not sure on this one since the author hasnt updated since 07/03/2020 so.. 31/?

Be My Eyes

Nemesis: Sex

Cutting the Braid -chef’s kiss 😘 i’ve read this like 8 times.

Hotter Than Hell -incomplete as of 01/12/2021. uhm the author hasn’t updated in almost a year but they have been writing this since 2018. its a good read though! 11/?

call it what you want

Favorite Clothes

until the spring comes again, until the flowers bloom again (stay here a little longer)

i have died every day waiting for you (but loved you for a thousand more)

The Dreaming of Escape

Never Judge a Book by its Cover

What Do You See?

A Guardian “Angel”

(my heart beats) for you

Listen Closely

longing: a yearning desire

warm me up (with your lips)

love, the shoreline where you and i meet

Be Not the Slave of Your Own Past

mi casa

to the end of this imagination, i’ll go

unwrap me (and see the present underneath)

Stolen Kisses Under the Sheets

we kiss like lovers (and laugh like best friends)

bndwboy

Chamomile and Honey

知己 (Ego)

Baptise in your Thighs (‘Till It Hurts)

at the edge of your touch

How Do You Say ‘Fuck Me’ In Swedish?

he smells like wolf, Jimin

You Don’t Need Your Airplane Mode

Cherry on the Cake

Hard to Get

false impressions

the seaweed is always greener

Dissonance -this is part of a WHOLE ASS series. these authors are amazing. this is just the jikook fic that belongs to the series.

Adoptions

The Dreaming of Escape

sun and moon

Blank Space -unfinished as of 01/12/2021. 3/4 chapter so far.

You’re Safe Now

love is a wild thing

3 nights

a bite that burns

Almond Dream

sweetener

Matcha Frappe, No Whip

stay a little longer

The Golden Flower

You had me feel the world

Your Song

jimin, I love you

Tangled Up In You

fuck the feral out of you

touch me more

from yesterday, for tomorrow

i wanna feel you in my bones

Talk Nerdy To Me

lets fall in love for the night (and forget in the morning)

Lemon Tree

Fold It Up Like Oragami

Peach in the Garden

laughs and kisses

I hit the 100 link per post limit 🙃 So I’ll do another one I guess? Part 2 posted here!

[vyeoh]

this is your chance: wax poetic about an Empires or DSMP character of your choice to a fan who is new to both. Explain why I should love them. I need guidance in this new and meme-populated land.

okok this is a lot of pressure haha. Spoilers for EmpiresSMP and DreamSMP below, obviously. I wrote a lot so prepare yourself, anon

I watch a lot of empires POVs but the ones I most anticipate every week are Scott and Sausage.

c!Scott (I'll call him Smajor for the sake of simplicity) starts off the series chilling, not really getting involved with the rest of the server, and staying aggressively neutral. After all, he's an elf. He has lived far longer than most of the other rulers already, and will most likely outlive them for many years. So, the best thing is to stick to his mountains and not get invested in the dealings of mortal affairs, maybe sometimes causing problems on purpose and dipping because what's life without a little spice right.

But then, this demon comes to the server, Xornoth. He's going around causing havoc and wants to send the world into an eternal winter, but he doesn't bother the kingdom of Rivendell much so Smajor stays tentatively cautious but ultimately unbothered. But then, the puzzle pieces start falling together. The first thing that the audience noticed was was Xornoth sounded like Smajor, but we mostly thought that this was just due to cc!Scott voicing both of them and there was nothing more to it. However, then, the people the demon starts possessing start chanting in elvish. The demon hates mortals, and the elves are conveniently one of the two confirmed not fully mortal races in Empires.

This culminates when Smajor stumbles across a cave that contains the backstory of the patron god of Rivendell, Aeor. Basically, there's two opposing forces, Aeor and Exor, and both have a champion. In a previous life, those champions were two brothers, where Aeor eventually prevailed and banished Exor. In this life though, the champions are - you guessed it - Smajor, and the demon Xornoth.

So now Smajor is like. Well fuck. It's my literal god-given destiny to be responsible for defeating this demon who is technically my brother, and if I fail the server gets plunged into an eternal winter. And I have no fucking clue what is happening because I've just been here on this mountain actively trying to stay out of the issues outside my kingdom. We watch him panic and teeter on the verge of spiraling for an entire episode, and when the followers of Xornoth go to the End to kill the dragon, releasing Xornoth's full powers, he fails to stop him. Smajor is a character who was used to being the smart one, the prepared one, the one who has the least deaths on the server. But he's also a character who runs away from his problems and ignores them. Before and during the dragon fight, we hear the desperation in his voice, as he's thrown into a situation he is wholly unprepared for, and it's bigger than him going to the Cod Empire to kill their king, or assisting in other people's plans to kill the codfather. He can't run from this. cc!Scott plays this scene so well as well, as I've said before, one of the best parts of Scott's acting is how he's never super dramatic, but he's so effective in the little things like inflection to make you feel, viscerally, the panic and dread.

So after the dragon fight, Smajor realizes, I can't do this on my own. I've tried and failed. So he gets allies. We watch him, someone who has so strongly been an isolationist, learn the benefits of allies and watch him learn to trust others and watch him learn how to get that trust in return.

My favorite thing about Smajor's characterization is that he's an incompetent protagonist, but not in the way of the "plucky young adventurer". He's capable skill-wise, and fairly jaded and very pessimistic. However, his issue is that up until recently, he did not care about the rest of the server at all, and by the time he learned to, it was way too late.

Also, in 3rd Life, cc!Scott and cc!Jimmy were canonically married and they reference it sometimes in Empires. Like, Scott goes over to the Cod Empire every so often both in and out of character to kill and/or flirt with Jimmy, the ruler of the Cod Empire, which may develop as a secondary plot into the future who knows. So ty Scott for giving the gays what they want o7

Now onto Sausage: his is a story of Icarus, his hubris and ambition being his downfall. He's one of the two followers of Xornoth, who promised him endless power in exchange for his servitude. He started the series being eccentric, but not outright unhinged, but slowly gets more and more extreme as the series progresses, as he gets brought more and more to Xornoth's side.

One of the best parts of Sausage's character, in my opinion, is how his gradual corruption affects the people around him. Initially, he got into a conflict with the Cod Empire and was allied with two other people in the Witherrose alliance. They were allies, but also close friends. The fandom liked to joke that the three had sibling energy, and I'm pretty sure the ccs played to that even more lol.

It was painful to watch the other two members, Gem and fWhip, watch Sausage get corrupted right in front of them, and see them desperately clinging on to this old idea of Sausage in their head because if they faced the truth, it would mean that their friend was gone. Eventually, they do finally cut him out of the alliance, leading him to fully commit to the side of the demon. Sausage felt very clearly betrayed by this, and declared the remaining two Witherrose alliance members to be enemies.

He gets more and more possessed, and we even see the other Empires, his enemies even, slowly realize that something is very wrong with the ruler of Mythland. He starts doing more and more evil things, like killing people more, making sacrifices to the demon, and eventually helping to kill the dragon to free Xornoth. So things are good for Sausage, for a bit. He won, and is more powerful than ever. Then he finds out: he's going to die. Xornoth's possession is slowly killing his soul, and eventually, his body going to be fully taken over and he himself is going to be trapped in the spirit realm. So how do you react to this? Over the next few episodes, we watch Sausage struggle between "the demon is literally killing me" and "the demon has given me so much, and I love it", all while Xornoth takes over more and more of him. We hear him exclaim that "don't worry!! I'm still about 15% there!" while trying to downplay every time Xornoth completely takes over his body. We watch him willingly oppose anyone who is trying to end the thing that is killing him.

My favorite thing about Sausage is that he is undoubtedly evil and proud of it, but he's also undoubtedly human. If you like to watch evil characters go absolutely feral, he's the guy for you. He makes the deal with Xornoth in the beginning, knowing and fully embracing the evilness of the demon, but at the same time he knows what he's doing is detrimental to both himself and everyone around him, but he's gotten in way too deep at this point, and to be fair the demon has held up its end fo the bargain, right?

Also, I would be damned if I don't talk about cc!Sausage's editing. Every one of his videos is like a movie. The way he does camera angles and uses music is so skillful- every lore scene feels like something out of a high fantasy action saga (think: LotR). Every big lore event I always wait in anticipation for Sausage's ep because his editing truly takes lore to another level.

I'm just generally very excited to see where this series goes. Empires is such a good mix of talented builders and good lore. Part of the reason why the series is so immersive for me, beyond any other lore smp, is that they have the settings to back it up. There is a certain charm to the DreamSMP's objectively terrible builds (with a few exceptions) but in Empires, the settings help sell the plot so much.

Another part of why I love EmpiresSMP is how much the ccs are involved with the fan community. I'm sure you've seen the memes about Scott being on tumblr, and Sausage regularly goes through the EmpiresSMP fanart tag on Twitter and likes art, even ones not related to Mythland. Most of the ccs, in fact, have brought up tumblr content on stream at some point or another. Like, several ccs have said that they read tumblr lore theories and hcs and stuff and sometimes take inspiration from them. Fun fact: Rivendell's church was inspired by my pinned drawing; confirmed by Scott Smajor himself. It's just such a good cycle of ccs and fans being excited about each other.

As for DreamSMP, I'm gonna be honest here, the only person I really am invested in in Technoblade. I started watching when he joined the server, and he's the only person whose lore I keep up to date with.

Techno's fun to watch because he's like the Deadpool of DreamSMP. Virtually unkillable, very skilled and scary, but consistently cracks jokes and breaks the 4th wall during plot. His POV is just fun. Like, he does wild plans and gives speeches and some of the stuff that happens to him should be called deus ex machine if it wasn't for the fact that Technoblade is the one who's doing it, and all the stuff is grounded in the fact that cc!Techno is just that good at the game.

However, the fact that he rarely takes anything seriously makes the few times Techno is 100% serious so much more impactful. His whole character has a basis in being perceived as inhuman and being treated as such, and therefore in return trying to hide his humanity. So, when he shows that humanity, whether that's fear, anger, or genuine love for his friends, it really makes you go "oh shit."

Techno's often said not to have character development, but I'd argue that while he remains steadfast in his moral code, he develops leaps and bounds as a person. Like, at the beginning, he's brought onto the server to help Wilbur and Tommy overthrow a government; them knowing he's 1) an anarchist and 2) very very powerful. His character was more of a plot device at that point and was treated as such in the canon. Wilbur and Tommy straight-up lie to him about their plans to establish another government after they overthrow the current one, while he was led on to believe that they were abolishing all governments in the area. But he isn't a plot device. He's a person, as much as he only shows the terrifying, blood god side of himself.

After the establishment of New Lmanburg (the new government its a long story), his friend Phil joins. And for the first time, we see him be fully human with someone and we see someone treat him like a human. Like, we saw glimpses before, with Wilbur and Tommy in Pogtopia, but Phil is the first person we noticeably see he trusts 100%. Then Doomsday happens, and Techno essentially retires to the tundra. During this time, we see Techno learn to be more human, first with Ranboo, then Niki when he establishes the Syndicate. In fact, the two of them, along with Phil, canonically throw him a birthday party, which is a far cry from his treatment in Pogtopia.

Techno's development is one of a god learning to be human, and I just think he <3

[oreosmilkshakes]

Mine; the sequel

Summary: The end of everything Pairing: The Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 11.4K Warnings: Violence, Endgame’s ending, character death,  A/N: This is the longest piece I have ever written and holy crap, it was tiring but worth it. Seriously. I’ll wait a little until I wanna write again. The sequel spans over CW, IW and Endgame so yall are in for a ride.   ED/N: Editor has gone to the Ether Realm (Written by author) Taglist: @igothroughphasesalot​ @paniniirae​ @winteroqers @felicityofbakerstreet​

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years. Two years was how long it took to hunt Bucky down after the events of HYDRA’s infiltration within S.H.I.E.L.D. . Y/N did not give up. She spent sleepless nights, using her contacts, satellite technology to find her soulmate but each time he appears, he disappears the next minute after. Even with Steve and Sam’s help, the job didn’t get easier.

After S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fall, a new power came in and that very same power thought it would be a good idea to control the Avengers through a series of words. Specifically, the Sokovia Accords after what happened in Lagos. Y/N knew it wasn’t Wanda’s fault. She was constantly with her best friend day and night, being her shoulder to cry on. Y/N pitied Wanda. She lost her brother to Ultron and now, people were dead due to an accident. Y/N was also there for Steve when he received the news that Peggy had passed on in her sleep. She attended her funeral, standing by the blonde super soldier throughout the entire event. Y/N knew how much Peggy meant to him. He was a man out of time after all. Y/N immediately pulled Steve in a tight hug after the coffin was sent for burial.

It was indeed dark days and darker ones were coming

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N was requested by Everett Ross to accompany him and Sharon to greet Steve. She’s heard what had happened in Vienna and the whole explosion. Something big was going on. Y/N could feel it. So, as she walked towards the vans, one could imagine the surprise Y/N felt when she saw Bucky. Her eyes widened and so did his. Her jaw slacked a little, looking at Steve who gave her a subtle shake of his head. Everett Ross and Sharon Carter, along with the other German soldiers here don’t need to know Bucky and Y/N were soulmates.

(Gif credited to the owner)

Y/N’s heart was racing, Bucky’s too. Two years. Two long years of sleep deprivation and tears has finally brought Bucky back to her. She wanted to hug him, to feel him against her body, to touch every inch of his skin. However, seeing him caged like an animal broke her heart. Was it really Bucky that blew up the building and killed the king of Wakanda? It couldn’t be him. Y/N gulped, her eyes meeting with Bucky’s again as he was slowly transported away. She could see him flex his metal arm, as if trying to escape his prison so he could run to Y/N and be reunited. He has changed. Y/N could not see the same killer she saw back in 2014. However, he looked beefier and that made Y/N’s heart flutter. He was also tamer, calmer. Something like The Winter Soldier’s programming won’t go away easily, of course.

And Y/N was right.

Blackout. Steve looked around, all monitors had gone dark.

“Come on, guys, get me eyes on Barnes,” Everett spoke through his walkie-talkie. Bucky was left with a faceless man. Anything could go wrong.

Tony tapped on his ear.

“Friday, get me a source on that outage,” Something was wrong.

Sharon looked at both Steve, Sam, and Y/N. “Sub-level five, East Wing,” Without further delay, the trio hastily made their way to Bucky’s location.

Bucky turned to his supposed interrogator. “What the hell is this?”

“Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no,” Zemo dug into his bag, hand gripping the item most important to Bucky.

He pulled out The Red Book, holding it up for Bucky to see. “I mean your real home,”

Bucky’s eyes darken at the sight of the book. The very same book that was used by the Russian to control him like he was some dog.

Zemo removed his glasses, standing up with the book and a torch.

“Желание (Longing),” Something ticked in Bucky’s mind. The locks he had on The Winter Soldier was rattling, like a monster slamming itself against the heavy doors of its prison.

“No,” He whispered.

“Ржавый (Rusted),”

Bucky threw his head back. “Stop,” The door shook hard but not enough for The Winter Soldier to be released. Yet.

“Семнадцать (Seventeen),” Bucky clenched his metal fist. “Stop,” He growled. If, no, when, Zemo finishes those words, The Winter Soldier would be broken free and that scared Bucky. His soulmate was in the same facility as him and the chances of Bucky hurting his lover and everyone around her was high. Bucky’s breathing got heavy, growling under his breath as he tried to fight hard against his trigger words. Zemo looked up, eyes focused on Bucky in torment. “Рассвет (Daybreak),” Bucky screamed, four out of ten locks were broken now. He yanked his metal arm out, successfully breaking his cuff before moving to rip the cuff off his right arm.

“Печь (Furnace)”

Bucky grunted, moving to the door. His fists slammed against the reinforced door, grunting as he was losing to the locks on the prison.

“Девять (Nine),  Доброкачественный (Benign),” Zemo continued. Bucky’s metal fist slammed hard against the door, seven out of ten locks were broken now.

“Возвращение на родину (Homecoming), Один (One),” The cracks formed by Bucky’s hard punches grew bigger. He was feral once more, eyes wild and seeking freedom from his prison.

“Товарный вагон (Freight car),” And that was it. The door broke, locks broken and Bucky--No, The Winter Soldier was free once more. The Soldier burst out of his prison, hair falling over his face as he breathed softly. Zemo stood in front of him, The Soldier stood, eyes dark and showed no signs of Bucky at all.

“Cолдат? (Soldier?)”

“я готов отвечать (Ready to comply),” The Soldier replied, ready to receive his newest assignment.

“Mission report. December 16, 1991,”

And The Soldier knew exactly what to do.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When Steve, Sam, and Y/N arrived, soldiers laid slumped against the wall, unconscious from being attacked by the dark Super Soldier.

“What the hell...Who did this?” Y/N gasped, checking on one of the soldiers, and sighed in relief when she found that he was still alive.

Steve led further into the cell, kneeling to check on a soldier when a soft voice called out.

“Help me. Help,”

Steve saw red. He stormed over to Zemo. “Get up,” He grabbed the man and slammed him against the wall. “Who are you? What do you want?” Steve’s fists clenched tightly on Zemo’s collar.

“To see an empire fall,”

Sam stepped in, narrowly missing a punch by The Soldier. “Bucky!” Y/N screamed to get his attention. Nothing. No hesitation or a glance at the woman. Sam landed a few punches on The Soldier before the assassin grabbed him and threw him against the cage. “Sam!” Y/N moved to help. “Y/N, stay back. This isn’t Bucky!” Steve ordered and Y/N froze. The Soldier looked at Steve and then to Y/N with dark eyes. He turned his attention to the woman, storming over to her. Before he could swing his fist at his soulmate, Steve grabbed Bucky and threw him back. “Y/N, get out of here!” “I am not leaving you here!” “Just go!” Steve narrowly missed a punch from Bucky, landing his fist onto his best friend’s face. Y/N took one last look at Bucky before taking off. Not to find safety, no. But to try and find ways to subdue The Soldier.

The Soldier and Steve fought hard against one another until they both ended in the water with a broken chopper. Sam and Y/N had left the facility to chase after Zemo but the man had disappeared.

Time to hide again

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow Sam to the meeting point where Steve had brought Bucky. She bit her nail, the man’s metal arm was clamped under heavy machinery so he wouldn’t be able to escape if he wanted to again.

Y/N moved to Bucky, brushing his hair out of his face. He was still unconscious, clothes and hair damp from his and Steve’s little swim. “Be careful, Y/N,” Sam warned. Y/N shook her head. “After two years, Sam. Two years of finding Bucky. I am not going to ‘be careful,” She cupped Bucky’s rough cheek, her thumb gently brushing the red bruise on his left cheekbone. Y/N held back tears, her heart was aching for the man before her. “I missed you, Bucky,” Y/N whispered, words filled with emotion and unspoken love.

The Winter Soldier slowly slipped back into its cage, the effects from the words were losing their power and once again, Bucky Barnes was back. The Super Soldier stirred awake a few minutes later from the distant sound of a helicopter. “Cap,” Sam called out. Steve stopped his conversation with Y/N, Sam gesturing to Bucky. Y/N’s breath hitched a little. Bucky was awake. She licked her dry lips, following Steve from behind.

Bucky groaned softly, using his hand to lift himself so he could look at Steve. His eyes drifted to Sam next and finally, Y/N. He parted his lips, wanting to say something to his soulmate but Steve cut off to him first.

“Answer me first. Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Bucky blinked a few times. “Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to wear newspaper in your shoes,” Bucky chuckled. Steve was satisfied with Bucky’s answer. “Can’t read that in a museum,” Sam was in disbelief.

(Gif credited to the owner)

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to Y/N again then back to Steve.

“What did I do?” “Enough,” Steve replied. Bucky let out a soft sigh. “Oh, god. I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words,” Bucky whispered.

“Who was he?” Steve questioned.

“I don’t know,”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup, the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than “I don’t know,” Steve pressed on further. Y/N wanted to step forward and defend Bucky but Sam shook his head. Bucky squinted his eyes a little, brows furrowed as he recalled the moment before he became The Winter Soldier.

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where,” “Why would he need to know that?” Bucky knew it was finally time to spill the truth. And so he did. “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier,” Bucky gave a brief recollection of The Winter Soldier program. Y/N moved a little closer to Sam, fear growing in her heart knowing there were more than Bucky.

Steve was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Who were they?” “Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum,” Bucky explained. Y/N was now standing behind him, hands gently playing with the tips of his long hair as a form of comfort. Bucky found it comforting as well, leaning into the woman’s soft touch.

“They all turned out like you?” Sam questioned.

Bucky shook his head once. “Worse,” Now, it was Steve’s turn to speak.

“The doctor, could he control them?”

“Enough,” Bucky looked down at Y/N’s hands that were now on his strong shoulders. He leaned further into his soulmate’s touch, his head resting on her abdomen.

“Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve glanced at Sam. Bucky leaned forward. “With these guys, he could do it. They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night, you’d never see them coming,”

Sam approached Steve, speaking to him lowly. Bucky turned to Y/N, his metal hand taking one of the woman’s hands softly. He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am,” Bucky stood, turning to face the woman. He tilted his head down to face his soulmate, the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile. “You know, I didn’t realize how short you are,” Y/N gasped, punching Bucky in the shoulder, only to realize she punched metal and winced softly. Bucky took both her hands, lacing their fingers together. “I want to apologize to you, doll. I made a promise and I didn’t fulfi-,” “No...Don’t say it. It’s not your fault. I know how hard it is to push him aside and be the man who you are today,” Y/N moved a hand up Bucky’s arm, resting on his bicep. She couldn’t get over how beefy he looked now compared to two years ago. Y/N cleared her throat, quickly averting her gaze so Bucky won’t catch her staring at him. Too late though. Y/N looked up at Bucky, cerulean eyes met hazelnut ones. Her hand moved up to his rough jaw, thumb feeling the sharp bristles of hair that covered his jaw. The Super Soldier leaned in slowly, his metal hand gripped Y/N’s waist gently. Their lips met in a soft kiss, one filled with unspoken love and kept emotions. Bucky pulled Y/N closer, deepening the soft kiss. A stray tear trickled down the agent’s cheek, Bucky pulled away slowly. He cupped Y/N’s cheek, his metal thumb wiped away the tear. He knew exactly why she was crying. Happy tears. Reunited finally after two years. “Two years, I spent wondering what my soulmate tasted like. I’m not disappointed,” Y/N laughed softly, both realizing that this was their first kiss. “Neither am I, Bucky. Neither am I,”

Bucky turned to face Steve and Sam, both men had smirks on their faces and nodding, seemingly impressed with the other Super Soldier. Y/N simply hid her red, embarrassed face in Bucky’s warm chest.

“Come on. We’re meeting someone,” Sam walked ahead, Steve followed shortly after along with Bucky and Y/N.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N certainly didn’t expect the days to get worse. The first being Tony and his side of the team ambushing Steve in Germany’s airport. Now, that was a bigger mess. Explosions here and there, heroes thrown around by one another and Y/N constantly at Bucky’s side. She couldn’t leave him and she was not letting him go anytime soon. Bucky felt the same way which is why he was doing his best in protecting the woman he loves. What’s worse was that those who could not get to Siberia were thrown in the Raft.

Steve manned the quinjet, Y/N and Bucky were seated at the back. Her hand took his metal ones, lacing their fingers together as Y/N leaned her head on his strong shoulder. Bucky let out a soft but audible sigh as he looked down at their laced fingers. All this fight was because of Zemo framing Bucky for the Vienna bombing.

Y/N looked up at Bucky. “Do you think this will ever stop? This fighting, people or organizations with plans to take over the world, the world in chaos?” The super soldier thought hard. Would it? Of course not. A storm was coming.

“I’ve been in this shit for over 70 years, Y/N. It won’t stop,” He looked down at his soulmate, cold thumb caressing Y/N’s skin. The woman nodded, leaning up to steal a kiss off his lips before snuggling into Bucky’s side for warmth. Bucky simply smirked at his soulmate’s action, heart fluttered a little from her affectionate gesture. Bucky stayed in the same position for hours while Y/N slept, making quiet conversation with Steve as the trio made their way to Siberia.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Doll, wake up,” Y/N heard a distant voice called out to her in her sleep. “Wake up, sweetheart. We’re here,” The woman’s eyes fluttered open, jolting up in an upright position as she looked out the cockpit window to see white. “Where are we?” Y/N let out a soft yawn shortly after her question.

“Siberia,” Steve answered before Bucky could. The quinjet landed beside a snow plower. Bucky moved over to the weapons locker, grabbing an assault rifle. The ram to the exit lowered, Y/N left first to examine the snow plower.

Steve glanced over to Bucky. “You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?”

Bucky looked over to Steve. “Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” “You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Bucky smiled brightly, remembering those memories that happened oh-so-long ago.

“What was her name, again?” “Dolores. You called her Dot,” “She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now,” Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder. “So are we, pal,” He nodded and left the quinjet.

Y/N stood by the opened doors.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” The agent looked at both Super Soldiers. Tracks were still fresh too.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky gripped the handle of his assault rifle, following Y/N into the facility with Steve behind them. The trio took the elevator down, stepping out, and swept corners. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Y/N took the lead, handgun in her hand as she climbed the short flight of stairs. BANG

The trio simultaneously whipped around to the elevator, ready to attack the intruder.

“You ready?” Steve whispered. “Yeah,” Bucky looked through the sights of his rifle, hand steady. The metal door creaked, the middle was pushed open and it revealed Tony. Steve eased up a little, both men approaching one another. Tony’s headpiece pulled away to reveal the man’s face. “You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented. Steve nodded, still holding his shield up. “It’s been a long day,” Tony looked up at Bucky and Y/N. “At ease, Soldier. I’m not currently after you. Y/N, not gonna give this old man a hug?”

Y/N was no doubt Tony’s favorite person. They worked together with Y/N being mentored by him in tinkering with tech. After all, Y/N was still young. But don’t let that mistake you. She was smart, a formidable fighter and had friends in high places.

Y/N was just about to take a step down when Bucky stopped her. “No,” “Bucky, please. It’s Tony. I know him,” She whispered, gently pushing his arm away gently. The Super Soldier grumbled and moved his arm away, Y/N moved to hug the older man tightly. “I’m sorry you had to be tangled in this, kid,” Tony looked down at the young woman with soft eyes. “It was my choice, Tony. Don’t worry about me,” Tony sighed softly. He could never see Y/N as an enemy even if she was on Steve’s side. He loves her too much like a daughter. “Can’t help but worry, kid. You’re like a-,” “A daughter to me, I know. I’ll be fine,” Y/N smiled, giving Tony one more hug before pulling away.

“Why are you here?” Steve questioned, breaking the moment.

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. Ross has no idea I’m here. I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself,”

Steve stared at Tony with careful eyes. “Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Tony scoffed and Steve eased up, lowering his shield.

“It’s good to see you, Tony,” “You too, Cap,” Tony turned to Bucky, his rifle still pointed to the billionaire. “Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me. There’s a truce here. You can drop..” Tony trailed off. Y/N approached Bucky, a hand on the muzzle of the rifle. “It’s okay..,” Bucky’s eyes flicked to his soulmate and lowered his gun.

“Let’s go,” Y/N moved past Bucky and led the way deeper into the facility.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a surprise at how the facility still had power working after all these years. However, dust and cobwebs covered a lot of surface areas. The four ventured deeper into the bunker, entering a larger part of the facility. “I got heat signatures,” Tony informed.

“How many?” Steve asked.

“Uh, one,”

Six lights, six freezing tubes. “What the hell is all this..?” Y/N questioned, squinting her eyes at the tubes. Each one had a small hole in the glass.

“If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep,” Zemo’s voice came on through the speaker. The four slowly walked over to the other side, Y/N closely examining the tubes. These must be the Super Soldiers Bucky was talking about. Each had a bullet in their head.

“Did you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo’s voice came back on.

Bucky held his gun close, swallowing as he recognized each cold face. “What the hell?” He whispered, keeping close to his soulmate. “I’m grateful to them, though. They brought you here,” Zemo finally showed himself. Tony held his arm out, aiming a wrist missile at Zemo. Steve threw his shield at the glass, the Vibranium frisbee simply bounced off the wall and returned back to Steve. “Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets,”

“I’m betting I can beat that,” Tony claimed, cocky.

“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you’d never know why you came,”

Steve approached the small window. “You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?”

Zemo moved closer to the window. “I’ve thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you’re standing here...I just realized..there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes,” Zemo chuckled. “How nice to find a flaw,” Steve understood the situation. “You’re Sokovian. Is that what this is about?”

Zemo shook his head. “Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I’m here because I made a promise,”

Steve nodded slightly. “You lost someone?”

Zemo’s jaw clenched, clicking his tongue. “I lost everyone. And so will you,” Zemo turned, pushing a button.

By Steve, a monitor turned on. The blonde glanced at Zemo then approached the monitor. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead. Forever,” Tony, Bucky, and Y/N approached the monitor. It was a camera, panned in a very specific spot. The date in the corner read ‘December 16, 1991,’

Tony looked down at the monitor. “I know that road,” His eyes looked down at the tape. “What is this?” He questioned Zemo, the Sokovian simply chose not to say anything and allowed the heroes to watch as the video played.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N was horrified at the contents of the footage. Bucky--no, The Winter Soldier killed Tony’s parents. Tony’s eyes were hard, jaw ticking as he struggled to fight back his growing, erratic emotions. He was about to move to Bucky when Steve stopped him. “No, Tony,” Tony’s head snapped to Steve but his eyes didn’t meet the blonde’s until he found the courage to do so. “Did you know?” “I didn’t know it was him,” Steve avoided. “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?” Tony’s voice was strained, in a whisper of growing rage and sadness.

“Yes,” Tony pushed Steve away, betrayed by the fact Steve knew. Steve knew how his parents died and did not do anything to tell him.

“Tony, please, ju-,” Tony held a hand up to shush Y/N up. With a flick of his hand, he sent Steve flying before proceeding to attack Bucky.

It was an entire mess of chaos. Punches being thrown, kicks and just simply the pain of seeing a once-powerful team breaking apart all because of one single piece of footage.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N did her best to try and break off the fight but received punches herself. Steve and Bucky were overwhelming Tony. He shot a repulsor blast to Steve, sending him against the wall. “Tony, stop!” Y/N grabbed his right arm, struggling to pull Tony back. The billionaire shoved Y/N away hard, sending her to the wall as well. She bumped her head against the concrete, groaning softly as blood trickled from the open wound.

Bucky roared in anger, landing a hard fist onto the chest plate. Tony landed a few punches on Bucky but the Super Soldier barely flinched from it. Years as The Winter Soldier made him this way. Bucky was pissed off. Tony released a blast, Bucky forced the blast upwards before landing a hard punch straight to the core. Tony stumbled backwards. “You hurt Y/N!” Bucky roared, using his right arm to pin the billionaire against the wall. Metal fingers dig into the titanium plate. Steve struggled to stand, looking over to the side to see Y/N in pain.

“Y/N,” Steve groaned out, moving over to check on the woman.

Bucky pushed hard against Tony, screaming as fingers grabbed the glowing core. An unexpected blast from the core sent Bucky stumbling back, landing on his right arm.

Tony shot a blast at Bucky, the Super Soldier landed beside Y/N. “Bucky..,” Y/N moved over to Bucky, heaving his head on her lap. Her eyes landed on the metal stumped, the edges orange from the heat. Bucky took some time to recover, eyes blurry and mind hazy from the hit.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When the fighting ended, Tony was beaten to a pulp. Y/N was supporting Bucky, with sad eyes on Tony’s downed form. Steve limped over to the two, assisting Y/N with her soulmate.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you. You don’t deserve it. My father made that shield,” Steve has heard enough. He simply dropped the shield, leaving the facility with Y/N and Bucky.

Steve carried Bucky back to the quinjet, setting him down. Y/N sat beside her lover, pulling him close.

“I expected to see you here, Captain Rogers,” T’Challa approached the jet. Steve was on guard, the King raised his hand up. “I almost killed the wrong man, Captain Rogers,” Steve relaxed as the King approached the ram of the jet. “I apologize, Mr. Barnes. I truly am,” T’Challa eyed the couple, understanding what was going on. Bucky simply gave T’Challa a nod, weak from all the fighting. “May I place an offer, Captain Rogers?” “What’s the offer?” “Sanctuary for Mr. Barnes and his soulmate in Wakanda. We will take care of them,” Steve looked at Y/N and Bucky, the woman was whispering soft words to her soulmate.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I think it’s best if they do so,” T’Challa nodded. “Very well then. Wakanda’s doors are open for you,” With that, the King left and before Y/N knew it, she was in Wakanda.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N looked at Bucky with sad eyes. He had to do this. She knew he had to do this. Cryosleep. Her hand rested on the back of Bucky’s neck, both soulmates looking at one another deep in the eyes before Bucky made the move to plant a kiss on the agent’s lips.

Steve approached the two. “You sure about this?” The blonde questioned.

(Gif credited to the owner)

“I can’t trust my own mind,” Bucky gave a short smile, looking up to his lover. He knew this would be hard for Steve, especially more so on Y/N. God knows how long it will take to remove HYDRA’s programming etched in his mind like a parasite. He took Y/N’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody,” Steve nodded. He was not really fond of Bucky leaving Y/N alone and freezing up but if he wanted to prevent another Zemo occurrence, this was the price to pay. “I’ll give you and Y/N some time together,” Steve left shortly after.

Bucky turned his attention to Y/N, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. “Baby doll..” He cupped Y/N’s cheeks, thumb swiping away a stray tear. “It’s..It’ll be selfish of me to stop you...So I won’t,” She laughed lightly, hands cupping both of Bucky’s rough cheeks and rested her forehead against his. “It’ll be over before you know it. I know you’ll wait for me, Y/N,” Bucky whispered, leaning in slowly until both their lips met in a soft kiss. Y/N returned the kiss, pouring all her emotion and love into it. She didn’t want to let go even though she knew she had to. So she did. Y/N pulled away after a few seconds, pressing one more peck to Bucky’s lips. “I love you..” Y/N confessed. She did. She loved Bucky with all her heart and soul and Bucky felt the same. “I love you too, sweetheart,”

Y/N stepped away, slowly releasing her touch. Bucky stood, stepping into the tube. Steve stood beside Y/N, watching as the Wakandan doctors began the process of freezing. He gave Steve and Y/N one last smile before leaning back, freezing up almost instantly.

Y/N missed him every day.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years. Another two years of waiting for Bucky to awoke from his cryostasis. With Shuri’s help, Y/N worked hard day and night to perfect Bucky’s cure and when a solution was formed, Y/N could not wait to see Bucky.

“You’re sure this will work, right?” Y/N turned to her good friend.

Shuri smiled. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve seen my work, you tell me. I have faith in it and in us,” Y/N laughed nodding, her excitement was visible to the princess. “Two long years without your soulmate was hard, wasn’t it?” Shuri’s eyes were filled with pity but also admiration. She has yet to find her soulmate but every day, without fail, she sees Y/N. The woman went from a sad mess to a strong woman. Shuri assisted the agent with keeping her mind filled and for two years straight, Y/N’s mind was kept off Bucky.

Y/N laughed softly. “Yeah, too long, Shuri. Come on. I want to see him,” She left Shuri’s lab and made her way to the medical wing. Doctors and nurses surrounded the tube, the machine hissing as the defrosting process began. The agent bit her lower lip, standing behind the small crowd of doctors and nurses all on standby to assist with the frozen Super Soldier.

The door hissed opened, heavy mist escaped the tube. Two doctors stepped forward, helping the figure out of the tube. As the mist cleared and the doctors stepped aside, there he stood, looking exactly the same as he was in 2016. James Buchanan Barnes was reawoken, cerulean blue eyes scanning the room.

Y/N felt tears pricked her eyes once more. “Bucky..” She called out, tears falling down her cheeks. Bucky turned to the source of the soft voice, immediately recognizing it. “Y/N…” Bucky hoarsely called out. Y/N ran to Bucky, wrapping her arms around his abdomen, and sobbed into his chest. The woman cried hard, finally reunited with her lover. Bucky was in shock. A good shock. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s body and leaned down, burying his face deep in his soulmate’s neck.

Shuri approached the couple. “Welcome back, Sergeant Barnes,” She smiled at the reunion. The first broken white boy she was going to fix. Y/N pulled away from the hug, wiping her tears away. “Bucky, this is Shuri. Wakanda’s princess and definitely the smartest person on Earth,” Shuri playfully nudged Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N cupped Bucky’s cheek. “Babe, listen to me. The doctors are going to run a few checkups on you and when you’re done, I’ll take us home and fill you in on what’s been going on, okay?” Bucky simply nodded, throat too dry to even speak. Y/N stepped away, allowing the doctors to work on her soulmate.

The woman returned after half an hour, Bucky was redressed into more traditional wear. “Doll...God, I missed you,” Bucky pulled Y/N in for a short kiss, their first kiss since 2016. Y/N took Bucky’s hand, fingers intertwined. “I missed you too, Bucky...Too much,” She showed him a sad smile. “Come on. I’ll take you home,” And so she did.

Y/N had been living in a small, peaceful hut just a few minutes away from the main city. She fed him, showered him with affection, and of course, ran him through what has been going on. She mentioned that Steve visits them whenever he could, what’s happening to the world right now and in Wakanda.

Y/N moved to sit beside Bucky on their shared bed, the Super Soldier gave her a handsome smile. “Out of all the things I missed about this world, I missed your smile the most,” Bucky flirted. Y/N gasped softly, gently nudging Bucky’s shoulder. “Ever the gentleman, Mr. Barnes?” “I’m always a gentleman, doll. You just get to see more of that side than anyone else,” Now that made Y/N laugh, a sound Bucky came to love immediately.

Life was peaceful with Bucky. The couple has finally found peace.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

For months, Ayo, Shuri and Y/N have been helping Bucky with his release from HYDRA’s hold.

“Y/N, it’s going to work this time. Trust me,” Shuri watched as Y/N paced up and down her lab, biting her thumb. Ayo had brought Bucky deep into the Wakandan forest, insisting that it was best for this final process of the removal into the woods just in case Bucky reacted to the words and went on massive havoc.

“It’s been almost two hours, Shuri. What if..,” Y/N stopped, shaking her head to shake away the negative thoughts. Footsteps caught Y/N’s attention, her eyes looking towards the lab entrance. Her eyes widened when Ayo and Bucky stepped in. “He is free,” Ayo informed, bowing a little to Shuri. Y/N covered her mouth, gasping at Ayo’s words. Bucky was free. He was free. This means the words had zero effect on the Super Soldier. She approached her lover, noticing the puff under his eyes and the red veins on the whites. “Oh, honey...Come here,” Y/N reached up to her taller lover, hugging him tightly. This was not tears of sadness, no. They were tears of happiness. Finally, The Winter Soldier was no more. Bucky was now James Buchanan Barnes.

“Come on, let’s go home,” The agent turned to Ayo, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before taking the Super Soldier home.

That’s when their life truly took off. Y/N taught Bucky a lot about the world, including the usage of the smartphone. At first, Bucky was hesitant, claiming that he didn’t need to use a smartphone. Now? The Super Soldier was hooked on it. It made Y/N shake her head in amusement.

Apart from the teaching of the modern world, Y/N also spent more time with her soulmate. She took care of him, cooked for him, bathed with him, had some fun with him and Bucky truly knew, from that moment on, that he was devoting his life to his soulmate. Shuri witnessed their moments together, even taking note each time their White Wolf would fall in love with Y/N. She shook her head, smiling before resuming her work on a certain prosthetic arm.

Their happiness lasted for months, of course. Until Y/N spotted four figures walking towards their little home. “Bucky,” She called out softly.

“Hm?” Bucky hummed in response, looking up at his soulmate. Y/N pointed to the four figures. The closer they got, Y/N recognized who it was. “T’Challa,” Y/N greeted with a smile. The King returned the smile as a Wakandan soldier placed down a case. The agent knew what it was. Bucky came over, looking down in the content of the case. He looked at Y/N, who nodded at him. If T’Challa and Okoye were here bringing this asset Shuri was working on, that means something was coming. Something big that needed every hand on deck.

Bucky looked at the King. 

“Where’s the fight?” “On its way,” Bucky nodded, moving closer to the arm. “Steve Rogers is on his way,”

“We’ll be there,” The King nodded and left with his guards.

Y/N approached the arm, running her fingers on the golden of the cold arm. A big smile spread on her lips as she closed the case and picked it up. “Come on. I have a surprise for you too,” She took Bucky’s hand, tugging him back to their hut.

“Doll-,” “No, no. I’ve been working on this one. It isn’t much but I know you’ll like it,” Y/N cut her soulmate off before he could say anything. She set the case on the bed, moving to grab another case from under their bed. “Wait, how long has that been there?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. How did he not realize that fairly large box under the bed? Y/N laughed lightly, leaning over to steal a kiss off Bucky’s lips before setting the case beside the arm. “I placed it there when you weren’t looking, of course. You ready?” The Super Soldier nodded. Y/N unlocked the case, pushing the lid up to reveal Bucky’s newest suit. Bucky approached the leather suit, picking it up with his hand. “Doll, this is... This is gorgeous. Thank you,” He set the suit, moving to pick Y/N up by the waist and twirled her around in happiness. The Super Soldier leaned up, kissing his lover softly. “Thank you, doll...What would I be without you?” Bucky set his lover down, keeping his arm secured around her waist and forehead against hers.

Y/N pecked his lips sweetly. “Lost,” She exhaled softly, staying in their intimate position for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Come on. Let’s get dressed,” She pulled away from Bucky, leaving for the bathroom to change into her battle suit.

Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, tying her hair up. She found Bucky flexing his metal fingers, already in a full suit. “My, my, the arm looks good on you, honey,” The agent smiled, running a hand down the prosthetic arm. Bucky was smiling. “I didn’t think I would get another. This one is better than the old one,” She laced their fingers together. Bucky cupped Y/N’s cheek, leaning down for a kiss. “I love you,” She blushed lightly. “I love you too, James. Now, come on. Let’s wait for Steve,” Y/N led Bucky out, walking hand in hand with her lover to the entrance of the palace.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A quinjet landed in front of T’Challa. The ramp lowered, revealing Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Rhodey, Vision, and Wanda. Steve approached the King.

“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve held his hand out, T’Challa took it and shook the blonde’s hand.

“So, how big of an assault should we expect?” T’Challa asked.

“Uh, sir, I think you should expect quite a big assault,” Bruce assisted.

“How we looking?” Natasha looked at the King. T’Challa looked over his shoulder. “You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and,” The King gestured to Bucky and Y/N, the couple making their way over to Steve.

“Nat! Wanda!” “Y/N!” The two women ran over to Y/N, hugging her tightly.

“And a semi-stable 100-year old man,” Bucky finished T’Challa’s line with a big smile. Steve moved in to hug his old friend.

“How you been, Buck?” “Uh, not bad, for the end of the world. Been spending a lot more time with Y/N,” Bucky gestured to his soulmate. Y/N pulled away from Natasha and Wanda. “Steve!” Y/N ran over to Steve, pulling the tall blonde in for a hug. “Y/N,” Steve laughed lightly, picking the younger woman up and hugged her tightly. “Been too long, Y/N. We missed you,” The blonde set the agent down on her feet. “Bucky and I missed you guys too. It’s a shame that the only way for us to be reunited is when the end of the world is happening,” Y/N moved to Bucky, holding his hand. Steve nodded at her words. “Sadly, it is,” T’Challa approached the group. “Come. Let’s get to the lab. My sister has been itching to see Vision,” With that, The King and his guards let them to Shuri’s lab.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N was having a short conversation with Sam, laughing lightly as she watched Sam and Bucky have their usual playful banter when the Falcon noticed something amiss in the sky. Sam tapped into comms. “Hey, Cap, we got a situation here,” Something extraterrestrial had breached the atmosphere and was coming in fast to Wakanda. The object broke into pieces upon impact with the massive protective bubble that protected Wakanda. Y/N flinched a little from the sight of the explosion while Bucky looked in amazement. “God, I love this place,” Bucky mumbled, eyes fixated on the bubble.

Rhodey’s voice came over comms this time. “Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome,” And true enough, more projectiles were approaching. This time, they were aiming to land outside of the protective bubble. Y/N moved close to Bucky as five projectiles managed to land successfully outside of the dome. She squinted her eyes, studying the five. “They look like..transport ships. Or ships in general. These can’t be bombs,” “Whatever the hell they are, Y/N, they mean trouble,” Sam pushed his goggles down, wings spread and ready to fly. Bucky looked over to the side, seeing the team on transport. “Come on. Let’s hitch a ride,” He ran ahead, his soulmate following from behind. -------------------------------------------------------------------

The large Wakandan armies were in formation. Rhodey stood by the front line, Sam was making flybys, Steve, Natasha and T’Challa had gone ahead to negotiate with the enemies. Y/N’s hand slipped into Bucky’s metal hand, both instinctively laced their fingers together. Bucky turned to look at his soulmate and Y/N did the same. “I love you. No matter what happens next,” The Super Soldier leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips. The agent inhaled deeply, returning the soft kiss before pulling away when Steve returned. “They surrender?” Bucky released Y/N’s hand, eyes forward to the ships. Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Not exactly,”

(Gif credited to the owner)

The five ships began to move, hovering in the air. Loud snarls and heavy footsteps were fast approaching the edge of the dome. Y/N stood her ground, hand gripping her pulse rifle. It was a specially made and specifically designed rifle capable of long-ranged attack and hand-to-hand combat when turned into a spear. Y/N tilted her head, her body fully enclosed in a black vibranium-made suit complete with a headpiece to protect her face. This suit would protect her and best of all, it enhances her movements. The suit itself was black. It had blue streaks and fur around the neck. Kinda like a fur coat but make it extra badass. The helmet had ears, similar to T’Challa’s suit.

Y/N felt eyes on her and found Bucky looking at her with a smirk on his lips. Perks of being best friends with the Princess of Wakanda. All Shuri wanted was for Y/N to be safe during any battles she fought. “Don’t look at me like that,” Y/N pouted under her nanotech helmet. “Can’t help it, Doll. You look good,” Bucky complimented. Y/N playfully nudged Bucky’s side, placing her rifle on her back for now.

The massive hoards of Outriders ran past the trees and towards the dome.

“What the hell?” Bucky cursed under his breath. “Looks like we pissed her off,” Natasha added.

The Outriders piled up against the shield, snarling and growling as they tried to force their way in. Some were sliced in half and those that made it through immediately began charging towards the humans. The Border Tribe held their capes out, invisible shields lined up as the first row of defense.

Y/N stood her ground, getting ready for the attack and knowing that this would be a whole mess of dead aliens and explosions.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

All went well. Y/N felt she was winning until Thanos came and ripped the Mind Stone off Vision’s head. That’s when everything fell. “You should have gone for the head,” Thanos rasped out, snapping his fingers. A bright light and complete silence. When the flash cleared, Thanos was gone. Stormbreaker was on the ground by Thor’s feet. “Where’d he go?” Steve asked no one in particular, a hand on his abdomen. “Thor, where’d he go?” The blonde repeated but The God of Thunder simply kept silent.

“Steve? Y/N?” Bucky called out. Y/N whipped her head to face her lover, his hand was turning into dust. 

(Gif credited to the owner)

“NO! BUCKY!” Y/N screamed, running to her lover. Before she could feel his touch one last time, her soulmate disappeared into a pile of dust. The woman froze, some dust settled on her hand. Her heart was racing, her head feeling tight, and her chest hurting. Her body shook, dropping to her knees as her hands brushed against the dust. Tears pricked her eyes, color draining from her vision. Emptiness filled her heart. Y/N had lost Bucky, again. For the third time. Tears fell, trickling down her reddened cheek as she sobbed. She failed to realize others around here were turning to dust as well. T’Challa, Groot, Sam, and half of the population.

“Y/N, hey..Y/N,” Steve called out, moving over to the grieving woman. “Y/N,” She kneeled beside her, arms wrapping around her shaking form. Y/N tried to push Steve away but she knew the next best comfort was from Steve.

Y/N cried hard in Steve’s shoulder, hands gripping the brown shoulder straps. “He...He’s gone, Steve. I..I can’t see colors anymore... He’s gone... Bucky’s gone..,” Y/N wailed, Steve simply kept the crying woman close. He had just lost his best friend and Y/N lost her soulmate. Steve looked up from Y/N’s form, watching as the others, just like Bucky, disappearing into thin ash. That’s when Steve knew that Thanos had won.

Thanos won and there was nothing the Avengers could do.

For now

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Five long years. Five long, hellish years since Y/N lost her soulmate. She had no will to live. After all, her soulmate was dead and so was half of the universe. The first two years, Y/N struggled to cope with Bucky’s death. The smell of his clothes were long gone and the pictures they took together over the course of their relationship buried deep in the agent’s phone. She couldn’t look at them, fearing it would break her further. Natasha and Steve did their best to help Y/N but alas, they were not able to fill the void.

The third year was when Y/N has had enough. She was sick of grieving and had finally accepted the fact that Bucky was never going to come back. So, she contacted Clint and became vigilante partners, taking down those who took advantage of their situation for their own, selfish gains. For the remaining two years, Y/N fought side by side with Clint, now known as Ronin by many. It was just Ronin and Shadow. Until Natasha found them.

(Gif credited to the owner)

It was a painful reunion with the Avengers, especially with Tony. Seeing the man in such a malnourished state broke Y/N’s heart but Tony wasn’t angry at her. Hell, he missed the woman. Despite what’s going on with the world, time has been kind to her. Y/N assumed she was done after the reunion until Steve told her about their big plan. Something about Scott coming back from this Quantum Realm and Tony using Scott’s theory on Quantum Realm to create time travel. Y/N, of course, agreed to this plan. It was a chance to finally get the world, to get Bucky back altogether. She was not to let this opportunity pass. And so, the team went their separate ways. Scott, Bruce, Tony and Steve. Rocket and Thor. Nebula and Rhodey. Natasha, Clint, and Y/N.

Of course, with every major decision, a sacrifice has to be made.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When everyone returned, there was excitement on everyone’s face except Clint and Y/N’s. Clint dropped to his knees and Y/N did the same, hands on her lap with head hung low. This pulled everyone’s attention to the two. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked. Clint simply kept silent, lip quivering and a growing lump in his throat. That reaction itself was enough to inform the others of Natasha’s sacrifice. Y/N looked up at Steve, eyes red and teary but somehow, tears refused to fall. She knew Natasha wouldn’t want to see Y/N crying so she forced herself to be strong. It felt like Bucky all over. Natasha had been with her through thick and thin. Y/N inhaled sharply, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands before calming down. There was still much work to be done.

The Avengers stood in a circle around Bruce. The Gauntlet was ready, stones in place. Everyone was suited up, Y/N’s helm enclosed her face. Enforced doors began closing on Tony’s command. “Everybody comes home..” Bruce mumbled. He slipped his hand into the Gauntlet, the nano techs formed perfectly around his fist. As soon as the Gauntlet was on Bruce, power surged through his arm. Bruce groaned in pain, immediately taking a knee and held his right arm. Even with the power of the Hulk, it was not enough to contain the raw power of all six Infinity Stones. The power was burning through Bruce’s arm.

“Take it off, take it off!” Thor urged.

“No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?” Steve stepped in. Bruce groaned.

“Talk to me, Banner, “ It was Tony’s turn to talk. “I’m okay,” Bruce forced out, the burn was up to his shoulder. He yelled in pain, raising his fist up and finally snapped. A bright flash and Bruce was on the floor, the Gauntlet slipped from his destroyed arm.

“Bruce!” Steve rushed over to Bruce. Clint kicked the Gauntlet away.

“Don’t move him,” Steve instructed. Tony administered some medicine on Bruce’s arm, to cool off the burn.

“Did it work?” Bruce panted out. “We’re not sure. It’s okay,” Thor replied. The enforced doors opened. Scott noticed the green was back and so did Y/N but that was not why she followed him. She trailed Scott quietly, something wasn’t right. The birds were chirping and the greenery were lively. “Scott?” Y/N moved a hand to his arm. “Guys,” Scott whispered, lips shakily forming into a smile. “I think it worked,”

The next thing Y/N knew, she was blasted backwards with Scott, something had hit them upon impact. More and more projectiles aimed for The Compound, destroying the buildings into pieces. Y/N screamed as she tried to grab onto a broken ledge. She finally caught one and let out a sigh of relief. Y/N groaned, pulling herself up. Thank god for her Vibranium suit. She noticed she was alone. “Scott?! Scott?!” She screamed out. “I’m okay!” Scott replied. Y/N let out a sigh of relief. “Mayday, mayday, does anybody copy?” Rhodey’s voice came on comms.

“We’re on the lower level. It’s flooding!” Y/N gasped. Was Rhodey alone? Y/N hoped not. “Rhodey, I’m on my way. Scott! Get down there ASAP,” Y/N made her way down to the lower levels, moving fast to rescue her teammates.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The flooding was intense. Y/N’s suit struggled a little to keep up but it was still holding strong. “Rhodey, hang on! Scott and I are on our way!” She spoke through comms, dodging debris and crawling through tunnels, climbing down to reach the lowest level. Y/N heard panting. “Rhodey!” She screamed out, jumping into the water. Scott had just arrived as well, back to his original size.

Rhodey was underwater and was losing water fast. That’s when he spotted something behind Scott. His Iron Patriot suit amongst the debris. Rhodey made some noise, gesturing to the suit. Y/N turned to where Rhodey was pointing and quickly made his way to the suit. She grabbed the heavy hunk of armor, bringing it over to Rhodey. The suit recognized its user and opened up, Y/N assisted the older man into the suit. Once enclosed, the water was drained and Rhodey could breathe.

“Rocket!” Rhodey held his arms up, thrusters lit up underwater to push the debris up for breathable space. Y/N grabbed Rocket, the alien Raccoon coughed hard, spitting out water. “Hey! Guys!” Bruce strained out. “Little help here?”

Scott tapped on his arm. “On it. Y/N, hold onto Rocket and Bruce. Rhodey, stick close to me,” The three moved on Scott’s instruction. Y/N held tight onto Bruce and Rocket.

On perfect cue, the rubble began moving hard. Scott grew in size, punching through the heavy debris easily. He set Bruce, Rhodey, Rocket and Y/N down. Y/N’s eyes grew wide in size at the massive army Thanos had and... Steve had? That’s when she noticed color pouring into her vision again and she gasped. There was...Bucky...Bucky was back!

Y/N struggled to find her lover amongst the army of Wakandans and Sorcerers and allies alike. She stood her ground by Bruce.

(Gif credited to the owner)

“Avengers...Assemble,” Steve spoke through gritted teeth. T’Challa yelled and it was go time.

Armies clashed together. Explosions, bodies flying, and bloodshed. It was utter chaos. Y/N clawed her way through the Outriders, fighting alongside Hope and M’Baku. She yelled in anger, slicing down each feral alien with her claws until her back touched with another. She turned, ready to attack but froze when a familiar metal arm shone under the light. Bucky turned as well, aiming his rifle at the figure behind him but froze. Y/N’s helm revealed her face.

“B-Bucky,” She whimpered. “Doll,” Y/N jumped on Bucky, hugging her soulmate tightly with her face buried in his neck. Bucky dropped his gun, strong arms wrapped around his lover’s waist and held onto her tightly. Y/N didn’t want to let go, so very terrified that this was all a dream. An explosion nearby snapped the woman back to reality and that assured her that all of this was definitely not a dream.

Y/N slowly let go of Bucky, pulling away slightly. Their eyes meet, hands held onto one another tightly. “Bucky, I-,” “No, No. Don’t say it’s your fault. It isn’t,” Bucky cuts his lover off, a hand on his cheek. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled Bucky down for a kiss, a kiss filled with emotion, love, and pain. A kiss between two lost souls. It was like a twisted magical moment. Death and explosion surrounded the scene as they kissed. Y/N pulled away slightly. “I love you...I love you..” Y/N chanted. Bucky broke into a handsome smile. “I love you too,” The Super Soldier leaned down, stealing a  kiss off his soulmate’s lips.

“Hey! A little help here?” Rocket grumbled, blasting a jumping Outrider out of the sky with his dual blaster. Y/N pulled away completely from Bucky, grabbing her lover’s gun off the ground, and eased up the Outriders closing in on their position. She let out a sigh of relief, handing the rifle back to Bucky. “Let’s back into the fight, honey,” Y/N’s helm formed around her face again, running off to ease up the alien traffic.

It was a big fight indeed. Shots from Thanos’s ship rained down on the battlefield, sending his own troops and the heroes flying from the impact. Y/N groaned, landing beside Wanda. When the shooting stopped, Y/N looked up to the sky with everyone else. “What the hell..” Bright light forced its way through Thanos’s ship, cannons whirring down as the ship was rendered useless, breaking apart from the effective attack. Y/N turned to Wanda and nodded, running over to the bright light that landed by Peter. He handed the Gauntlet to Carol, noticing the large army of troops running towards the two.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all of that,” Peter looked up at Carol.

Wanda and Valkyrie landed by the blonde woman. Okoye approached Peter, gripping her spear. “Don’t worry,” Wanda assured.

“She’s got help,” Okoye continued. Pepper landed in front of Peter, Mantis, Shuri, and Y/N joined in with the stand. Hope grew back up to size, Gamora and Nebula by her side as the women approached the army. Both parties clash with Carol making her way towards the van. The others stayed back to reduce the large army down to size. Y/N effortlessly clawed down the Outriders, jumping on their backs to get to the Chitauri Gorilla towering over the heroes. The Gorilla roared in pain, falling dead with Y/N standing on its back. She caught Bucky looking at her from far, a proud look on his face. Y/N smiled under her helm, jumping off the dead alien, and ran to assist the other heroes.

Outriders after Outriders, it seemed endless. Y/N was thrown back by a Gorilla, her back hitting against some debri. “Y/N!” Shuri screamed for her, the Gorilla charging for the woman. She waited for the impact. Bright light and the impact never came. Y/N opened her eyes, the Gorilla had turned to ash. Immediately, she scrambled up to her feet and looked around to find the Outriders and Leviathans turning to ash. Who snapped the Gauntlet? Y/N rushed over to higher ground, looking around. Her eyes spotted Thanos’s form, disappearing and...Tony. “Tony!” Y/N screamed, horror-filled her eyes as she jumped off the debris and made a run towards the man.

Tony stumbled to the side, his left arm shriveled and burned from the snap. ‘It’s the only way,’ Tony repeated mentally. His legs gave way, the man leaned against the rock. His heart slowed, vision blurred. The heroes heard Y/N’s scream, following the frantic woman. Rhodey landed in front of Tony, faceplate retract. He approached the dying man, kneeling by him.

A comforting hand cupped the side of Tony’s head, both men shared a smile as Peter landed and Y/N skidded to a halt by the teenage boy. Her own helm retracted tears in her eyes.

“Mr. Stark. Hey!” Peter was breathing shakily, moving to Tony. “Mr. Stark, can you hear me? It’s Peter,”

Y/N dropped to her knees beside the teenage boy, taking Tony’s hand. He was like a father to her. She loved him and Y/N knew Tony loved her like a daughter. Tony turned to both of them, his grip was light on Y/N’s hand. He had so much to say to both of them and to Pepper too but life was slipping from him. “We won, Mr. Stark,”

Y/N nodded, tears spilling. “We won, dad... We won,” Y/N sobbed out.

“Y/N…” Tony whispered, giving her hand a light squeeze to try and comfort her.

“We won, Mr Stark,” Peter repeated, Y/N was hunched over and crying. Pepper held Peter’s arm, helping the boy stand up. Y/N knew Pepper was a strong woman. The older woman moved a hand to Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing it gently before facing her dying husband. “Hey,” Pepper whispered. Tony moved a little to look at his wife.

“Hey, Pep,” Tony mumbled. His hand moved over to Pepper’s hand over his chest.

“Friday?” Pepper called out. “Life functions critical,” The AI responded.

Tony looked at Pepper and Y/N, giving them a short smile. Y/N was shaking hard, trying her very hardest to not let the dam break. “Tony? Look at me,” Pepper urged and the man did so. He groaned weakly. The pain was all he felt. “We’re going to be okay,” Pepper assured. Tony felt his breathing becoming shallow, wheezing lightly. “You can rest now,” The blonde woman stroked Tony’s head lightly. The wheezing stopped and the grip on Y/N’s hand was now non-existent. Pepper hung her head, the light of the arc reactor disappeared. Y/N leaned forward, wailing hard on Tony’s arm. Peter wiped his tears, a shaky gasp escaped him to find the other heroes kneeling for Tony.

(Gif credited to the owner)

Bucky was the first to move, approaching his broken lover. His hands held her shoulder, helping her to stand and turned her to face him. The Super Soldier pulled Y/N into a tight hug, her arms moved around his waist as she cried into Bucky’s shoulder.

Tony’s sacrifice was not to be forgotten by anyone, especially to the rest of the world. What he did that day marks him as the greatest hero the world got. Tony possessed something many don’t have: the courage to sacrifice for the greater good.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The funeral was held privately in the comforts of Tony’s property. Happy, Pepper, Rhodey, Morgan, Y/N, Thor, and Steve had gathered in the living room of the home. One of the Iron Man helmets was set on the table, projecting a hologram of Tony. “Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn’t always roll that way. Maybe this time,” The hologram began. Y/N looked down at a photo she held. It was an old photo of her and Tony in his old Malibu home, Tony had an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as she held her first piece of tech made under the older man’s supervision.

“I’m hoping if you play this back, it’s in celebration. I hope families are reunited. I hope we get it back. And something like a normal version of the planet has been restored. If there ever was such a thing. God, what a world. Universe, now,” The hologram continued. That statement made the group smile. Ever the joker.

“If you told me 10 years ago we weren’t alone, let alone to this extent, I mean, I-I wouldn’t be surprised but come on, who knew? The epic forces of darkness and light have come into play. And for better or worse, that’s the reality Morgan’s gonna have to find a way to grow up in,” The hologram paused for a short second. Morgan perked up at the mention of her name, looking at Pepper.

“So, I thought I’d probably better record a little greeting in the case of an untimely death. On my part. Not that death at any time isn’t untimely. This time travel thing that we’re gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it’s got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all. That’s the thing,” The hologram held his hand out as he spoke. “Then again, that’s the hero gig, right? Part of the journey is the end,” Y/N took notice of Morgan moving closer to Pepper.

“What am I even tripping for? Everything is gonna work out exactly the way it’s supposed to. And Y/N, if you see this, for God’s sake, kid, follow your heart. Remember what old Tony taught you, yeah?” The hologram moved, getting off the chair and moved to the helmet. The hologram--No, Tony leaned down, eyes in Morgan’s direction.

“I love you, 3,000,” One last smile and the recording shuts off.

(Gif credited to owner)

Y/N didn’t realize this was the closer she needed. The heroes had gathered outside of the cabin, all dressed in black in accordance with the funeral. Y/N stood beside Bucky, lacing their fingers together. As the bouquet of flowers, along with Tony’s old arc reactor floated away, Y/N had moved and stood by Steve, watching in sadness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, it was time for everyone to part ways. However, there’s one last thing left to do...

“Remember, you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got ‘em or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities,” Bruce explained. Steve nodded, closing up the case. “Don’t worry, Bruce. Clip all the branches,” “You know, I tried. When I had the Gauntlet, the stones, I tried to bring her back,” Bruce looked at Steve. “I miss her, man,” “Me too,” Steve nodded. Bucky and Y/N stood by the machine as Sam walked the blonde to it. “You know, if you want, I could come with you,” Sam offered.

Steve turned to him with a smile. “You’re a good man, Sam. This one’s on me, though,” Steve turned to Bucky and Y/N, approaching the couple. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back,”

Bucky broke into a smile. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” Bucky replied, moving to pull Steve in for a hug. He knew this was it.

(Gif credited to the owner)

“Gonna miss you, buddy,” “It’s gonna be okay, Buck,”

Steve pulled away from the hug, turning to Y/N.

“You take care of him, okay? Take care of one another,” Steve moved in and pulled Y/N into a hug. The woman didn’t think too deeply into Steve’s words. It was just a piece of advice, right? Y/N pulled away from the hug. “You know I will, Steve,” The blonde gave her a smile and moved up to the platform. The machine whirred up to live, the white suit covered Steve’s body.

Sam turned to Bruce. “How long is this gonna take?”

“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds,”

Steve picked up Mjolnir. “You ready, Cap?” Steve nodded.

“Alright, we’ll meet you back here, okay?” Bruce looked down at the switches.

“You bet,” Steve replied, the helm covered his head.

He gave Bucky, Sam, and Y/N one more look.

“Going quantum. Three..two..one,” And Steve was gone.

“And returning in five..four..three..two..one,” Nothing. Bruce furrowed his brows, flicking a few switches.

“Where is he?” Sam asked. “I don’t know. He blew right by his timestamp. He should be here,” Bruce replied.

Bucky turned to walk off but stopped when he noticed a familiar figure in the distance.

“Bucky, what-” Y/N turned to the figure.

“Sam,” Bucky called out. Sam turned to the Super Soldier, stopping his urging with Bruce. He stood beside Bucky, eyes on the figure. The three approached the man and the closer they got to him, the more familiar he got.

“Go ahead,” Sam turned to Bucky. The Falcon walked over to Steve, Y/N watched as their interaction unfolded. She took Bucky’s hand, the couple looked at one another.

“You knew he wasn’t coming back, didn’t you?” That’s when it hit her. Steve hinted to her and she didn’t know. Bucky held onto his soulmate’s hand lightly, nodding. “Yeah... He deserves to be happy. Just like how I’m happy with you,” The Super Soldier leaned down, kissing Y/N’s lips softly.

“Five years, Bucky,” “I know, baby. I know. Nothing like that’s going to happen again. I promise you this,”

Y/N moved her arms around Bucky’s neck, embracing her soulmate tightly with the Super Soldier’s nose buried in her neck.

What happened for the past nine years was done. There was no changing it. Y/N has suffered just as much as Bucky did. How many times has Y/N lost her lover? How long did it take for destiny to bring two lost souls together again? Never again will the event of the blip happen again. Right now, Y/N Y/L/N treasured every moment she had with James Buchanan Barnes. 

After all, they were soulmates.

2nd A/N: I am also accepting request. I know I put a lot of gifs in but I love gifs >:))

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.3

I’m so sorry for the late post guys! I had the most hectic work load today. I’m taking too many goddamn classes this semester. ANYWAY here is my filthy part 3. I mean... they still haven’t fucked, but we’re getting there. I think this can be wrapped in a nice little 4 part bow, but I also kinda want 10 chapters of them together because I’m a slut for this dynamic. This is my FIRST TIME writing smut! So go easy on me. Thank you so much for reading! - Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3   Part 4

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, SMUT, ORAL (m receiving), FLUFF, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2300

It was a short ride to the compound, and y/n had a hard time keeping up with the fast walking team as they tried to explain little things along the way.

She hadn’t been outside in a decade. The grass was green and warm where it met her bare feet as she walked behind Sam and Steve. The rest of the team immediately left the quinjet, seeking the comfort of their showers and beds. Bucky was the last to leave, not feeling right about just disappearing from her, but keeping his distance.

Y/n was still so heartbroken. Hearing about her family’s death had really stung, and she knew if she dwelled on it, she’d cry about it for days. But all she really had time to be sad about was how cold her Soldat was towards her. It seemed very much like he didn’t want her around him.

Steve and Sam brought y/n inside the residential wing of the compound. They toured the common areas, kitchen, and showed her where everyone’s bedroom was. They finally got to a guest bedroom down the hall from Natasha, and left her to get cleaned up and comfortable.

Y/n looked around her new bedroom. It was barely decorated, but she had to admit, it was still much nicer than her room with the Men. She sat her yarn and needles down on a table and sat on the large bed. Her body instantly sank into it, the plush comforter conforming to her body in a way the single sheet never did on the twin bed she slept on.

But she couldn’t enjoy her new favorite place in the world for long because not 3 minutes later, she heard a soft knock at her door. She opened it, and much to her surprise, Bucky was standing there, with 2 pairs of sweatpants, and 3 t shirts in his arms.

“I figured you’d want some fresh clothes after you’re clean.” He said sheepishly, not making eye contact with her. “You can ask Nat about undergarments.”

That made her giggle the tiniest bit. “I’m not allowed to wear any undergarments.” But he should know that. She was trained to do things to please him, so wouldn’t he like her to not have on obstructing materials?

“Oh. Well, umm… you can now… If you want to. It’s up to you.” She could see the blush rise up his neck, coloring the bits of his face that weren’t blanketed by hair. She took in his attire. He obviously changed out of his tactical mission gear, in favor of the sweatpants he wore that looked almost identical to the ones in his arms. He also appeared to be freshly showered, his hair still damp, and if she looked close enough, she could see little wet patches on his shirt from where he didn’t dry himself completely.

“Are these your clothes?” She asked, taking the bundle from his arms and opening her door wider so he could enter her room.

“Yeah, Steve went a little overboard on the shopping when I first got here. They’ll be a little big, but the pants have a drawstring, so it should work for now. Until you get something better.” He stood awkwardly in the middle of his room.

Y/n didn’t know what possessed her to put the sweatpants up to her face and inhale deeply. She just felt a primal urge to know what he smelled like. Gunpowder, wood, and something naturally male- Bucky. She couldn’t stop the moan low in her throat.

Bucky watched her as she did that. He felt his pants tighten just at the thought of her in his clothes, and the way she just smelled his pants and let out that sound of satisfaction, made him want to take her right there.

“Thank you, sir.” Y/n replied. Fully engulfed in her embarrassment.

“Y/n, you really don’t need to call me that. I’m just Bucky.” He reminded her. Honestly, he loved when she called him Sir- the authority it gave him, but it made an unholy amount of blood flow directly to his cock and he couldn’t think as clearly. Especially when she looked up at him with those innocent eyes.

“Okay, Bucky.” She said, trying the name out on her tongue. He liked the way she said it. “If that makes you happy.” She risked a step closer to him.

“You need to do what makes you happy.” He took an equally measured step back, knowing he was close to giving in to her temptation.

“I’m working on it, Bucky. But I need your permission. I just wanna be good for you.” She said, quickly taking 3 more steps until she was about 6 inches from his face.

“This isn’t right, Y/n. You don’t know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. Hydra wanted this. You don’t have to belong to me.” She craned her neck up to be closer to his lips, but he was determined to reason with her before he does something he can’t take back.

“But I want to belong to you. I thought about you every day for 10 years years, Bucky. And I hadn’t even seen you.” Bucky tilted his head down ever so slightly, their lips were just shy of touching. “Let me be good for you, Bucky. Let me make you happy.” She repeated.

“Okay.” Was all he said. He expected their lips to touch then, but she was already down in her knees. None of her videos showed passionate kissing. She wanted to please him in the way she read about in her studies.

On her knees, Y/n was able to see the thick outline of his erect cock very easily, and couldn’t stop the involuntary moan. Just as she did with his other sweatpants, Y/n pressed her face against the bulge and inhaled deeply. Between the smell that was just so him, and the warmth of his clothed cock rubbing on her face, she was starting to go feral for the man standing in front of her in complete shock.

Bucky hadn’t been with a woman since before the war, and they definitely weren’t like this. He watched as she was damn near purring while she rubbed her face on him. She reminded him of a kitten, the way she open-mouthed kissed the line of his cock through his sweatpants. Then she pulled them down, and he felt her wet tongue roll around the fat tip.

“Shit, Y/n, you don’t have to do this.”

“Do you want me to stop, Sir?” She said, taking another lick from base to tip.

“God no. Fuck.” he groaned as she started put his balls in her mouth and sucked, hard. “But if you keep working me like that this is definitely gonna stop.”

She moaned hearing him fall apart above him- finally fulfilling her destiny. Making her Soldat happy.

“Fuck, Babydoll, you’re so good at this. Where the fuck did you learn this?” He asked, more to himself than to her, seeing as she started bobbing and swiveling her head. He wanted to put his hands in her hair, but ultimately decided not too. If he was gonna let this happen, it had to be at her pace.

She had never seen a cock in person but she knew he must be above average, her tongue counting 3 thick veins running up the sides and bottom of it. Trying to remember everything she saw the women in the videos doing and all the descriptions she read in the erotic literature, she hollowed her mouth around him and flattened her tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Fucking hell, Babydoll you’re doing so well for me. Y/n, shit.” She felt his cock touch the back of her throat and gagged around the intrusion. Spit mixed with precum rolling down her chin. When she looked up at him, her big eyes meeting his, he lost it. She could feel his cock harden just a little bit more, and his balls tightened, right before he released his heavy load into her throat. She backed up a little so it wouldn’t go straight down, she wanted to feel him on her tongue and taste him. Once she was sure she got every drop, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue a little so he could see his cum sitting on it before she swallowed it all with a soft moan.

“Did I do good, Sir?” She said, still sitting in front of him, his cock softening in her face as she watched the anatomy work in fascination. She reached her hand out to touch it, really appreciating the feel and warmth of his skin. He groaned loudly at the overstimulation and the sound of her normally smooth voice, now rough from the number she did on him.

“Fuck, Y/n, you did so good, Babydoll. You’re such a good girl.”

And in that moment he felt like he could pass out. He wanted to vomit because he looked down at her face and saw the innocence still in her eyes. Good girl. He remembered saying those words to her before. So long ago. He saw a flash of a memory of rubbing a little girl’s head before knocking her out. Carrying her to her house and tucking her in her bed, before stroking her face one last time and leaving. He remembered how Hydra fried him so hard after that mission, they were afraid they killed him. She looked different, older, but it was the same eyes. Definitely her. And there that same girl was, on her knees for him, and just gave him the best blowjob of his life.

He tucked himself back into his sweatpants. Part of him wanted to run away. He was ashamed of himself. He knew that he should have turned her down and left before anything could happen. He took advantage of her. But he also knew that if he just left now with no explanation, he would be an even bigger asshole. Times like that made him miss the simplicity of not having control over his life.

“Y/n, you did such a good job for me.” He stood her up, pulling her in for a bone crushing hug. This confused her, because she never saw the aftermath in her videos. It was always brutal and then the woman was just left there. But he was so gentle with her as he tenderly stroked her hair and lowered his lips to hers for a kiss.

It was the absolute least he could do. He wanted to kiss her- he wanted to reciprocate and make her see stars, but his mind was racing. Debating if it was a good time to tell her about their previous encounter, wondering if she remembered him and was acting, or if she had no idea that he’s the reason she was kidnapped. And even though he didn’t kill them, the reason her family is dead. Selfishly, he decided that it would be best if he told her another time. He hadn’t experienced intimacy like this in so long, and Y/n’s lips felt amazing on his.

He finally broke the kiss to give her air, knowing she doesn’t have the lung capacity he has. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” He asked, not wanting to rush her into anything else. He knew he’d be going to hell for it, but he needed to be around her.

“I would love to, Sir.” She said with the biggest smile her face could muster. He swore he’d never get tired of seeing that smile. Feeling her tits press against his chest through the thin cotton layers of both of their clothes. Hearing how she moaned just a little when he stroked her jaw. He could feel his brain going fuzzy from just the intoxicating proximity of their embrace as they hugged, swaying slightly and exchanging sweet kisses in between longing looks.

“Call me, Bucky.” He gently reminded her. For his sake, really- his self control couldn’t handle her constant submissive nature. “I’m gonna let you take that shower, and in the meantime, I’ll go order some take out. Do you like chinese?” He asked, putting some distance between them, to prevent her from noticing how he was getting hard all over again and dropping to her knees for round two.

“Chinese people? I don’t know any, but I’m sure they’re lovely.” She replied, a little confused by his strange question.

Part of him liked that he wasn’t the most clueless person in the compound anymore. When it came to texting and pop culture, he was useless, but Y/n was held in captivity. She didn’t have takeout, or dinner dates, or freedom to shower with nobody watching her. He would be able to teach her those things, and he liked that. Someone needing him for more than violence. Someone to take care of.

“I’ll just go order the food. I’ll be back soon, Babydoll. There should be shampoo and conditioner in the shower with towels and all types of other stuff. Just look around a bit.” He said before he walked out of her room. She had never experienced moisture between her thighs like she was in that moment, so a shower was probably a good idea. 

Part 4

~

(if you wanna join my taglist, just let me know)

@austynparksandpizza @dracris33 @crzcorgi @musicheaux @little-moonbeam-666 @andydre4m @anakinravageme @hydrasbitches @bl4ckglitt3r @wondergirl556

[tmisaccidentreportbook]

MAG023, Schwartzwald

Case #8163103, Albrecht von Closen Release date: June 15, 2016 First listen: 16th October, I think I was on the morning feed for this one.

This one was a hard one for me to get into really. Not because of the topic or anything, I think maybe because of the antiquated writing style. Look I’ve tried to read Austen but I couldn’t hack the writing style, I don’t know what it is. I think it’s a bit rich of me considering I have a habit of going off into purple prose. Also, I think there’s also something it about being a Regency man on means that just has me going ‘ugh, rich white man problems.’ But there’s so much lore dumped in this one, I ought to be all over it.

- OK, so 1816, the birth year of The Magnus Institute, first located in Edinburgh apparently. As I’ve said, proper dandy man era. Was, as I’m digging around, also known as ‘The Year Without A Summer’, as the eruption Mount Tambora in Indonesia had disrupted the planet’s weather patterns and temperatures dropped, resulting in failing harvest, widespread food shortages, violence and disease, coming in hot on the heels of the Napoleonic Wars. Bad times, plenty to be scared of in 1816.

- Feels appropriate then that the statement has us entrenched in some deep, ancient European forest. Something oppressive and cold.

- To the tune of ‘Take a Break’ from Hamilton ‘My dearest Johaaaan...’ Was Albrecht von Closen on the list of Johan Magnus’ historical boyfriends? I don’t remember. ‘…and pressed upon me…’ yeah, I bet he did.

- ‘…Schwarzwald, what you would call the Black Forest…’ I did remember this from somewhere in my Geography A Level, but it took me a few days before the realisation that The Magnus Archives has its’ own ‘Blackwood’ hit me in the face. But yes, something ancient and established, at once serving as protection from invasive forces and threat of what lurks with in.

- ‘…every effort to provide him with guidance and such affection as he may have lost.’ The emotional repression of the upper classes is sitting so heavy right now…

- Had to look up what the fuck ‘profligacy’ meant…

- ‘I have never met so sober and prudent a soul as seems to exist within young Wilhelm.’ Ah… do you think ‘old soul’ was the same short hand for ‘neurodivergent child’ in the 1800s as it is today?

- The description of the forest in winter is making me just a little bit feral.

- ‘I will admit that I didn’t entirely relish the thought of staying in the Schwarzwald until the spring thaw...’ Hate to break it to you bud, but you’re going to have to wait a bit longer than you would other years.

- And looking up what ‘sojourn’ means. Jonny once again giving me the word envy.

- ‘…I never wished more keenly that I had been able to bring my library with me.’ Ok, you’re winning me round.

- ‘…but more often I would simply choose a direction and stroll into the trees for as long as my fancy held me and then simply follow my own trail of footprints back…’ If you were anyone other than a rich, straight, white man, you would be dead. By rights, you should be dead.

- Sure, just hang about in a derelict grave yard in the middle of an ancient forest, 1 hour before sundown, what could go wrong?

- ‘… another small bud of memorial stone blossoming through the frosted earth.’ Look that image, like snowdrops poking through.

- ‘So who was Johann von Württemberg?’… No seriously, who was he? Do we ever find out?

- ‘…I found myself marking trees with my pocket knife…’ OK so he’s go a little sense to him, good.

- Oh my days, get this kid outside.

- We have a wee slip up here. Previously, the name of Albrecht’s wife had been stated as Clara and here it changes to Carla. I don’t think this is anything more elaborate than a simple slip.

- This mausoleum could be touched by so much; The Dark, The Buried, The End, The Lonely. But if memory serves, its’ The Eye’s isn’t it.

- The description of the stranger at the clearing’s edge is weird, makes him feel a little ‘man out of time’ with his strange dress and ‘peasant German’ which, can I just say, rude to point it out.

- Another good staple of horror; a wise local as the ‘Harbinger of Impending Doom’ telling you in cryptic terms not to fuck around and find out. And what do the city slickers do? They fuck around, and they find out. Typically, not for very long.

- ‘… could not see his eyes beneath the brim of his hat, but I could still feel his gaze upon me.’ Where do you eyes be oh wise one? As some power taken them perhaps?

- ‘No, sir, you have nothing to fear from the dead.’This is both very sage advice, it’s the living you need to watch out for, and very comforting, because it reminds me that if malicious ghosts were a thing, we white folks would have died out generations ago. The British would be the first to go, are you kidding me? We’d be gone.

- ‘… a single farmer who couldn’t mind his business.’ Mate, you’re the one who’s wondering around areas you’ve got no business in.

- record scratch Well, I hope Martin was wearing cute pants. Also, I love how you’d expect him to be a fumbling mess but I can hear the ‘it’s before 7, I owe you and the world nothing’ in his voice. He’ll probably realise what happened later and will spend the morning face down at his desk while Tim cackles and Sasha pats his shoulder sympathetically. I bet Martin has good legs though.

- As I’m listening to this, I can’t help but think how much man power this excavation would take when it was done in the 1600s or 1700s.

- Bookshelves in the tomb, adding to my funeral vision board.

- ���… I still felt the most acute pang of loss. To see such a volume of knowledge, possibly unique in all the world, utterly destroyed, was incredibly painful to me.’ NERD! But yeah, big mood.

- So we’re adding grave robbing to the list of things that have been confessed to in statements.

- ‘Für die Stille’, ‘for the silence’…. What? So we’ve got the engraved eyes and the books, but where does silence come into it? Waiting in silence? Can’t help but feel like Johann had surrounded himself with his books the same way a pharaoh's tomb is stocked with all they’d need for the afterlife.

- ‘… apparently there was an old man in Schramberg by the name of Tobias Kohler.’ Is that our guy at the forest edge?

- ‘… until you were seen’… well, isn’t that nice. Seen by what? Johann or his librarians?

- ‘(the priest) simply nodded and, gathering up six strong, though deeply fearful, men, they headed out toward the cemetery.’ When you say ‘deeply fearful’ do you mean ‘God fearing Christian men’ fearful or do you mean ‘Athenian youths being sent to Crete’ fearful?

- Ulrich I, Count of Württemberg 1226 – 1265, or Ulrich II, Count of Württemberg 1254 – 1279, unknown if the latter ever married.

- Footprints in the snow. I KNEW those eyes would be gone! I remembered, ha!

- What made him stop? Was weird little Wilhelm standing at a window, watching it happen and holding the eyeless man’s gaze and slowly shaking his head?

- ‘Whether to a light-fingered servant or just my own carelessness, it is gone...’ Fucking rude! 

- ‘I can’t say I know much about Jonah Magnus or the origins of the Institute...’ Oh bud, oh no.

- The succession of the Counts of Württemberg was already feeling a bit spook and then we add ‘keeping company of witches’ and we’re in full on McNope territory.

- Or was this man at the edge of the woods Rudolph Ziegler, or was Ziegler just a burglar that had a misadventure. What could The Eye have wrought to make it look like ‘an animal attack’? Unless… Unless Ziegler took the coin and whatever would have come for Albrecht came for him instead. But what was it still?

- And we see the setting down of family tree roots for the Keays. I think the Mary Keay mentioned may not be the mother of our Gerard, maybe the grandmother, because if Mary was born in the 1920s, she’d have been in her 60s by the time she had Gerard. So either it’s a naming convention, a mistake or Mary found something to keep herself young.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

A Future That’s Worth It

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+ (lots of implications but nothing explicit)

Original Idea: Nothing in particular.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I have some headcanons on height and weight of the characters that I used for this one. Have fun!

^^^^^

The bed dipped behind me. I’d been more than halfway to sleep, but the movement shocked me awake. I rolled over.

Rhysand gave me a lazy smile. “Evening, love,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

“Technically no, but a little bit.”

“Sorry.” The look on his face implied he was in no way genuinely apologetic. He shuffled to get more comfortable, one wing draping over the two of us, and loosed a long sigh. I snuggled against his bare chest, eyes on his tattoos.

“Something the matter?” I asked quietly. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“If I never have to truly fight again, for the rest of what will hopefully be a very long life, I will be grateful,” he said, breath fluttering my loose hairs.

“Me too,” I agreed.

I felt a claw against my mental shields, a single, gentle drag against the black marble I used to keep my private thoughts private. A request for entry. I reached out tiredly to feel his own mental shield was already lowered. A rare occurrence for him. He had one of the most complex shields I’d ever experienced.

I let the shield drop. His presence overwhelmed me almost immediately. I’d probably never fully witness the extreme depth of his power, but it dominated over my little well of magic by what was probably thousands of times.

His presence was the comforting, healing darkness of lovers clinging to one another. The gentle shade under a wide oak tree on a hot summer day. Nothing of the sharp, secret darkness of spies and assassins. The soft night of dreams. “Do you feel peace, now?” I asked. “Now that the King of Hybern is dead and his army decimated?”

“It’ll take years for me to reach true peace for that, after all the pain and death and suffering. But I feel peace right now, holding you. I feel a grim tranquility in knowing I would gladly cause more carnage if it meant keeping you safe. I hated releasing that beast inside me during the war, but I’ll always go feral to protect what’s mine. You, our family, this city, our people. All of it. I would fight until my own death to ensure the future of those I’m responsible for.”

“Self-sacrificing fool,” I teased. There was no bite to the words.

“You’re one too,” he retorted with the same tired lack of malice.

“Never said I wasn’t. Therefore, you can’t call me a hypocrite.”

“Touché.”

I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me. “Get some sleep, High Lord. We both need it.”

He brushed some of my loose hairs from my face. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” I smiled slightly.

The sweet caress of his darkness in my mind soothed all the day’s worries. If neither of us ever had to pick up a blade for a battle ever again, it would be too soon.

I reached up with the hand around his waist and stroked the bone of his wing. He shivered, but he’d taught me where to touch to calm, and where to touch to excite. His other muscles were pliant, relaxed, as I ran my fingers gently over his wing.

We put each other to sleep not long after that.

—

“—told him it was a bad idea, but he was just like, ‘Stop telling me how to live my life!’” Mor’s loud voice woke me the next morning as the doors opened downstairs, the last bit dropping as low as she could go in a horrible but hilarious imitation of Cassian. Amren’s laughter followed.

The bed was empty besides me, but Rhys’ side was still warm.

I got up and pulled on my dressing gown over my nightgown. I brushed my hair briefly so it wasn’t quite so tangled and ventured out of our room.

Mor and Amren had already made it to the kitchen and were raiding the pantry for breakfast.

“What’s a bad idea?” I asked around a yawn.

“Cassian was gonna challenge Azriel to a flying race. From the House to the roof here,” Mor explained, pointing directly overhead.

“Azriel’s gonna win,” I said.

“That’s what I said. Cassian didn’t listen.”

I chuckled, joining them for breakfast.

Amren looked around. “Where’s your High Lord?”

“I was gonna ask you two the same thing. I assumed he got out of bed and came down to talk to you guys. Sheets were still warm when I woke up.”

Mor’s expression turned to one of amused dread. “He’s gonna join the race,” she said.

“I bet you’re right,” I replied. I rubbed my eyes. “They are five-and-a-half centuries old and they still behave like children.”

“Glad you’re his mate and not me,” Amren said with a smile as she drank from her goblet and shuddered. She hated food still, but she no longer had a choice.

“Frankly, me too,” I said. “I can’t imagine the chaos the two of you would cause.”

Mor laughed.

I assume you’re at the House of Wind? I thought down the bond, pushing the thought hard to make sure he received it.

Yep, Rhys’ voice replied in my mind.

I’ll be on the roof. Mor and I will referee.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. The words were too laced with laughter to be the truth.

Children. All three of you, I fired back.

All I got in return was his rumbling laughter. Distant thunder promising a welcome summer storm.

“Wanna join me on the roof?” I offered to Mor and Amren.

“Not really,” Amren replied.

“I will,” Mor said.

The two of us climbed up the stairs and sat on the white-painted iron chairs. Mor had a cup of tea and I had a mug of molten chocolate.

I looked up at the House of Wind. So far, there were no figures flying around its peak.

Mor lounged on her chair and eyed me. “Aren’t you cold?”

I shrugged. The early spring air was still clinging to the cold of winter and my satin dressing gown and nightgown were clinging to the cold right along with it, but it was something of a welcome change after the stifling heat under the covers in bed. “I’ll be fine for how long it’ll take Rhys and his brothers to get here.”

You ready? I asked.

Waiting on you, he replied.

We’re ready.

Then look up.

“They’re going,” I said to Mor, turning my attention back to the House.

Sure enough, three figures leapt off a balcony near the peak, streaking in a straight line toward us, wings barely extended to keep them aloft and at the angle they wanted. From their distance I couldn’t make out who was who yet, but I knew it wouldn’t take long.

“Five gold marks on Azriel,” I said.

“Aren’t you supposed to always bet on Rhys?” Mor teased.

“Azriel is lighter than Rhys and Cassian. I’m making an educated guess.”

She laughed. “Okay. Five gold marks on Rhys then.”

We watched them get closer.

“Rhys is going to be offended you bet against him,” Mor remarked.

“Probably,” I agreed.

“Rhys can winnow and Azriel… kinda does to. With the shadows. I’m not sure how he does it,” Mor mused. “But, Cassian—he just flies everywhere. So he’s probably a little better at it than both of them. More practiced, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah… how about, if Cassian wins, we each give Amren five marks?”

Mor laughed. “She’d love and hate that. That we made her bet for her and chose Cassian.”

I shrugged. “Probably. But she wouldn’t mind the money.”

“Not at all.”

I caught glints of blue and red. Rhys was on the left, no Siphons, with Cassian in the middle and Azriel to the right. I still couldn’t tell who was in front, but it looked like I might have been right about Azriel. He looked like he was barely ahead of Rhys and Cassian.

As the three drew closer, I realized this was the future we’d fought the war for. The future full of fun and joy. The future of stupid games and meaningless bets. No gambling lives. Just a few marks for no reason other than fun. If Rhys never turned into that beast again, if he’d done enough to ensure our safety and security—finally—then it was all worth it.

They were close enough to see their faces now. Mor and I cleared a place where three could land all close to the same time and not knock over any furniture or trip. While Mor thought it’d be funny, I didn’t want anyone to face-plant off the roof.

Azriel slammed feet first into the roof. I thought I heard the attic rattle. Rhys hit barely half a second after, with Cassian right behind.

Mor gave me a long-suffering glance and sipped her tea. “I owe you five marks,” she said before flouncing back downstairs.

“You placed bets?” Cassian asked.

“You’re surprised?” I retorted sharply. Azriel snorted quietly.

“Fair enough,” Cassian said.

“You bet against me?” Rhys sounded offended even as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His warmth banished the cold clinging to my dressing gown.

I shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to rise to his bait. “Azriel’s lighter than both of you. Skinnier. He can probably cut through the air easier. I made an educated guess,” I said, repeating what I said to Mor. I tilted up onto my tiptoes and kissed Rhys’ chin, since he was too tall for me to reach his cheek.

Rhys chuckled. “That’s okay, because I owe Cassian ten marks. I bet on Azriel too.” He kissed my forehead. The four of us still on the roof started making our way down. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever anyone can find!” Mor shouted from below.

I grabbed Rhys’ wrist and held him so Cassian and Azriel would get ahead of us. When we were alone, I wrapped my arms around him. “This is the future we—you—fought for,” I whispered. “Is it worth it, to you?”

“I can’t think of anything more worth it.”

“Me neither.”

We held each other for a few more moments.

Then Cassian was calling us to haul downstairs before the food was gone.

Laughing, we descended.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

Do Your Worst

A/N: This is literally 8,640 words of self indulgent smut. Just want the Winter Soldier to beat the shit outta me, ya know? As far as tagging I just tagged whoever liked the post I made about finishing this chapter, if I missed you or you want added/removed just let me know!❤️

Warnings: Violence, bloodplay if you squint, knifeplay if you squint, choking, hitting, degredation, rough sex, violent sex, name calling, I think that's all of them??

Summary: Your purpose is to fight, to be used as a weapon. During a training session at the Red Room facility, you come face to face with the ominous man they call "The Weapon." Unexpected tension is developed during your match, that is later unleashed when you learn what the Winter Soldier's true mission is... To train you to be a weapon just like him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

  You kneel on all fours, your own blood and sweat dripping onto the floor in front of you. You don't even know where all the blood is coming from at this point. This fight has been going on for who knows how long. Your muscles scream and you feel your bones are begging you to surrender. You take in a deep shuddering breath when you see your opponent's large black boots shuffle out of your peripheral vision. You jump to your feet with all the coordination of a drunken grizzly. You glance quickly at the other girls watching your match, all of their faces blank while they observe you getting your ass handed to you. They sit in a sea of grey uniforms, everyone's hair all braided back the same way. The room you're in is set up like a small gymnasium, seats set up in rows on the sides with a large sparring area in the center. The design makes it easy for everyone in the room to see every detail of your pathetic attempt to fight off your enemy.

  This is your first fight with the man they call "The Weapon" and he's kicking your ass. In your many years at the Red Room training facility, you've fought plenty of men and women here, beating most of them rather quickly. You were sent here very young after your incredible ability to heal rapidly was discovered. Basically, you're really good at taking a beating, making you nearly impossible to best in combat. You don't remember your life before your time here, not even your own parents. Your purpose is to fight, so that's all you remember doing. That's what brings you here, fighting the Winter Soldier.

 You look back to him to see he's already coming at you again. A blur of black and silver, the only distinguishable feature are his furious blue eyes that peak out above a black mouth covering. You scan his body, looking for any sign of weakness, willing there to be one with every cell in your body. His stance is too wide, he's stalking towards you now as if he's almost frustrated. Your body reacts to the opening before your mind tells it to. Once he's about two feet from you, you launch forward into a somersault. Your torso lands between his legs, you quickly let your legs fly up, hooking the backs of your knees around the tops of his thighs. Using every ounce of strength you have left you push your torso off the ground to bring him slamming down with a thunderous thump.

  You press your hips into his, then you throw your torso forward so you can straddle him. His left hand comes up to grasp your throat and your chest seizes up with fear. Your hands fly to his wrist, gripping the cold metal as if it will somehow get him to release. This is why they call him "The Weapon". His left arm is made entirely of metal, built exactly like a regular human arm, but it possesses superhuman strength and dexterity. The metal plates pinch the skin of your throat, causing you to panic slightly. No, you can't fucking panic, that's what they're watching for.

  Your right hand flies to your thigh, quickly unclipping your knife from it's holster. He's too focused on squeezing the life out of you to notice your actions. Just as you start to see white stars dance in your vision you bring the knife to his throat. His grip on you loosens slightly, anger dancing in his piercing eyes. You see his right hand move to grab the knife, but you bring your foot up to trap his wrist under your boot, thankful for your flexibility. You press the blade against his throat.

  "Yield." You choke out.

  His eyes go wild, pieces of unkempt brown hair falling over his forehead and shoulders, adding to his feral appearance. His metal hand tightens around your throat again, he's challenging you. You sneer at him then apply more pressure with your knife, seeing his skin split slightly, a small trickle of blood seeps out onto your blade. Unfortunately, he seems completely unbothered by the action. There's no victory from this position, you have to find another way. You hike your right foot up then plant it on his chest, earning a deep grunt from him. You throw your body over his, freeing yourself from his grip, keeping your knife on his throat the whole time.

  You quickly throw your legs over his shoulders so you can straddle his chest this time, your feet hook into his armpits as your knees cage his head. You flip your knife in your hand to bring the point down against his jugular. His hands fly to your thighs as you use them to grip the sides of his throat. His fingers dig into your skin, the pain of his fingertips bruising you only fuels you now. You feel his flesh hand leave your thigh, you read him like a book and beat him to his next move. Your free hand flies back and rips his own knife away from it's home on his thigh. You bring the knife up and throw it into the wall across from you, it sinks into the wood with a satisfying sound.

  With a roar he uses his metal arm to push off the mat, flipping you both over so your back is pressed against the ground. He has your right leg hooked over his shoulder, metal hand around your throat again. You have somehow managed to keep your knife against his throat, holding onto it like it's your lifeline. You try to move your left leg to kick, then realize he's got you pinned. His hips are pressing harshly between your legs, in another context the position would look positively erotic. You hate yourself for the way the heat spreads through your body when he presses into you further. He only makes it worse by bringing his right arm up to yank your braids from the roots. You let out a cry, cursing yourself for how wantan the noise sounds. You look into his eyes, letting your knife push into his throat further.

  You're both trembling with rage, furious with each other for not yielding. There's blood slowly pulsing out of his throat while your vision goes blurry, but neither of you are willing to admit defeat. A drop of blood falls from the handle of your knife to land on your lips. His eyes snap to your mouth, suddenly transfixed. That's it. That's the weakness you've been waiting for. You lick your lips slowly, welcoming the metallic taste. His eyebrows pinch together and he lets out a trembling breath, his eyes snap back to yours then and you feel something pulse against your center.

  "Horny bastard." You whisper, so quiet only he can hear it.

  His eyebrows furrow and his eyes light up with blind rage. His metal hand squeezes around your throat with malice, causing you to gasp and sputter. This is your window, don't fuck it up. His torso presses against the leg he has hooked on his shoulder, bringing the top of your thigh flush against your chest.

  Perfect.

  You bring your other leg up, plant your foot on the ground and kick off. With him practically laying on top of you, he isn't well grounded enough to fight off the leverage you have. You use the leg on his shoulder to twist his torso so that his back is pressed against the mat once again. You quickly scramble up his body and twist yourself rapidly, then throw your legs over his shoulders to trap his head between your thighs again. The back of his head is pressed hard against your core, you ignore the friction and the proximity of his mouth to your inner thighs. He's the horny bastard, not you. You suck air into your lungs, desperate for the oxygen to fill you again. Your legs are pressed against his torso, pinning him against the ground. If he rolls he'll only smother himself against the ground, and in the position he can't gain enough leverage to lift you off the ground.

  You sit up, letting your thighs squeeze his throat even more, his silvery eyes are strained as he looks up at you. His hands are gripping at your thighs again, you feel his metal fingertips break your skin, but you pay no mind. You just bring your knife up to his face, in one swift movement you cut off his mask, exposing a pair of full lips and a sharp jaw line. You're shocked by how handsome he is, but you quickly shove the thought out of your mind. This is no time for any sort of admiration. You flip you knife around then bring the tip up to the soft spot under his chin, letting it puncture the skin slightly.

  "Yield." You repeat harshly, voice hoarse from all the choking.

  He glares at you with hate and disdain, obviously desperate to end your life. That's the one thing he can't do though. During these spars you are given one rule, you are not to kill your opponent. You can beat them within an inch of their life, but you cannot take it.

  His flesh hand loosens on your thigh, and then he gives you three harsh pats. Signifying that he has admitted defeat. Neither of you moves an inch, eyes still locked. You're trapped by adrenaline and the carnal need to survive, both full of feral bloodlust. Your body will not release his until an instructor tells you to do so. You're both locked in place by each other, bodies trembling, covered in each other's and your own blood and sweat. His face settles back into his usual blank stare, but his eyes are clouded slightly, lips still quivering. For a moment he looks like he did when his blood trickled from his throat to your mouth, he looks starved, desperate, animalistic.

  Sickening attraction shoots through your veins. Images of his hard body working against yours fill your mind, you can't help but wonder how brutal he would be in the bedroom. His body is designed to destroy others, you're filled with a dark and shameful desire to let him destroy your body however he pleases. It's just the adrenaline, that's the only reason your core pulses when you see that look in his eyes. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

  "Release." A woman's harsh voice echoes behind you.

  Slowly, like two machines being turned off, your bodies loosen their holds on each other. He slides out from between your thighs, using his hands to push you off like you're some hideous garment he can't wait to rid himself of. You slowly stand up, every part of your body crying out in pain as you do. You place your knife back in its holster. Despite the burn in your shoulders, you bring your hands back to hold each other behind your back, then turn stiffly to face your instructor.

  She's a terrifying old woman, muscular and rigid. She keeps her silver hair in an immaculate bun. Her wrinkled face always pulled taught in a harsh grimace. She always looks like she's ready to sentence someone to death, which for all you know, might be true. She sits in her chair with one long leg crossed over the other, she's seated at a solitary stool that's placed in front of the rows of other girls. You don't know her name, and you never will. You have been instructed to refer to her as "Madame Widow".

  "Ready for assessment, Madame Widow." You say, trying to keep your damaged voice as monotone as possible.

  "And you, Soldier?" She asks your opponent pointedly.

  He's standing beside you, a rigid mountain imposing fear on every young woman in the room. Every young woman except you, that is. You got him to yield. You push the pride deep down, it's not an emotion you're permitted to feel.

  "Ready for assessment." He states. He doesn't need to refer to her as Madame Widow, since he's not a pupil of hers. He's simply a weapon used to make you and every girl here a formidable opponent for any enemy.

  "Soldier, you were strong at the beginning." She starts, you feel his energy shift at her words. Shoulders drawing up as he takes a deep, tense breath.

  "You had me convinced it would be a quick and easy victory. You had an opportunity to strangle her within the first thirty seconds but you missed it. This gave her all the information she needed about your fighting style." She glances down at her notepad, her stiletto shaped nails thrum against the paper.

  "Then of course, you had her pinned, but you were… distracted." Her voice is dripping condescension.

  Your heart falls to the floor, she knew. Of course she knew, it's her job to know. You quickly settle yourself. She will see it as a victory on your part, a weakness is a weakness. You have even been taught that as a woman, when you face a male opponent, their greatest weakness will always be their physical desire for you. You had harnessed that in the fight and used it to acquire a victory.

  "Your distraction cost you the match, Soldier. Naturally, she spotted your desire for her immediately and used it to gain the leverage she needed to get you to admit defeat." She says, her tone cold and calculating.

 You hear the metal plates of his arm scrape together and assume his balling up his hand into a fist. You don't dare look over, you're not allowed to look away from your instructor when she's addressing you. You want to see him though, you want to see the blood painting his thick neck where your knife pierced his skin, you want to see him ripping you apart with his eyes in all of their animalistic rage. The thought makes your chest burn with a dreadful desire, a desire that you know you have to kill.

  "You." She says harshly. She angles her head back slightly so she can look down her nose at you.

  "At the start, your fighting was pitiful. You were flustered, panicked, and emotional. You must never show that to an opponent, no matter how outmatched you may be." She chastises you, disgust evident in her voice.

  "However, despite your haphazard style, you were terribly clever. Even when you were losing consciousness you kept your wits about you. You used leverage instead of strength to make your opponent submit more than once. Your ability to manipulate his desire for you was exemplary, and should be incorporated into your sparring more often." She closes her notepad with a harsh snap, straightens her jacket as she stands up with impeccable posture then strides to the front of the room.

  "You two, clean yourselves at the medical station, the rest of you are dismissed." She says curtly, then exits the room, letting the heavy wooden door slam behind her. The girls all move hastily with their heads down, gathering their belongings silently, one by one ducking out of the room not daring to look at you or the Soldier beside you.

  You turn slowly to limp towards the medical station at the other side of the room. It's required that you tend to any wounds inflicted upon you by yourself. It's supposed to teach you to be self-sufficient in the field, since most of your missions will be done as solo operations.

  Once all the girls are gone, you place your hands on either side of the sink then slowly lift your hand to turn the faucet on, but before you can reach it your wrist is seized by a harsh metal grasp. Before you can react, he's got you twisted around, back pressed into the wall beside the sink. He bars you against the wall with his mechanical arm, he presses his mechanical forearm into your chest and you can't help but let out a whimper. He lets out a ragged breath through his nose, you look up into his eyes and your blood freezes. His eyes are an inferno of pure fury. His dark brows are pinched together, his upper lip is pulled up slightly exposing teeth smeared with blood. He has the appearance of a wolf that just got caught tearing out the throat of his prey.

  "You listen to me." He snarls, his voice trembling.

  You can't stop yourself from glancing down at his neck, desperate to see where you wounded him. You're always so morbidly curious about the damage you inflict on others, you hate yourself for it, but you can't get enough of making others bleed. He snaps you out of your trance by practically growling at you.

  "You pathetic bitch. You're too thirsty for blood to even pay attention to the danger you're in." He spits, bringing his knife up to your throat with his other hand. You let your head fall back, without the prying eyes of your instructor and the other girls you can welcome the sharp metal against your skin. You let the veil slip while you revel in the sharp kiss against the soft skin of your throat. That familiar taboo longing fills your chest. You can only guess that he shares your same twisted desires. After the way he reacted to you tasting his blood, you're relatively confident he does.

  You look up at him through your lashes, letting your mouth twist into a teasing smirk.

  "Do it, I fucking want it." You spit the words at him, challenging him with your lewd implications.

  He glares at you with furious eyes, then he lets a shaking breath fall from his lips.

  "You're disgusting." He says with venom. Almost as soon as he's insulted you, he's released you. He turns and stalks towards the exit of the door, broad shoulders swaying in a menacing way as he does. Your hand slides up to feel where his knife had been pressed against your throat, already missing the exhilarating sting. Longing takes over your body and you try to shake it off, identifying it as a weakness immediately. He can want you, because you can use that against him. If you want him though, you're weak and vulnerable.

  You shake your head and rip your hand away from your throat. You have to kill these feelings, you are not allowed to have such a weakness. There's no room for it, it will only cost you dearly in the end. You spin slowly to face the medical station once again, placing your hands back on the sides of the sink. You're shaking like a damn leaf.

  A timid glance at your reflection shows that you're much more beat up than you thought. Your lip is split and caked in blood, your left cheekbone has an angry welt growing on it, and your neck looks like it's been through a meat grinder. Deep purple bruises are already blooming over the skin, the places where his fingers dug in have small patches of blood peaking through the skin. Your heart flutters at the way he's marked you, but it's short lived. The feeling is stuffed deep down inside you, forced to join any other weaknesses he might bring out of you.

  "Fuckin' hell." You huff to yourself.

  None of your wounds are big enough for any bandages, so you'll have to just clean them and let them be. Your overused muscles are producing most of the pain, you'll just have to stretch and rest well tonight. Thanks to your freakish ability to heal, you'll be back to normal by morning. You turn the cold water on so you can give your face an icey splash. The sensation clears your mind slightly and you realize just how much trouble you're in.

  The Winter Soldier is only here temporarily, his mission is to train you and the other girls here then leave. In the few weeks that he's been here you've only seen him for brief moments, stalking around the facility like a ghost. He's an assassin, a weapon, nothing more. He's especially not supposed to be such a source of desire for somebody like you. You have a job to do, and it in no way includes wanting him to fuck your brains out. You blame it on the adrenaline, on natural physical responses. Any woman would be aroused by a man like that pressing himself between their legs. You're not any woman though, you're supposed to be a cold blooded assassin, you're supposed to be a vengeful weapon. You are not meant to have weaknesses like normal women. Your weaknesses aren't those of a normal woman though. Yours are much more sinister...

That Night

  You toss around on your small bed, desperate for sleep that won't come. You skipped dinner and went straight to your room, wanting to avoid everyone, especially him. The longer the day has gone on, the more the soldier is creeping under your skin. The longer you have to reflect on your encounter, the longer the desire you felt wraps its skeletal fingers around your heart. Of all of the fights you've had, you've never been so evenly matched. Yes, you technically beat him, but you hate how close he got to beating you. You don't really have wit like the other girls, or a distracting amount of beauty, but you can fight. You have been the best in hand to hand combat for years and you absolutely hate that somebody came close to taking that title. You haven't lost a fight since you were a child.

  You try to find comfort in the fact that he is a genetically engineered super soldier with a hunk of metal for an arm. You can't beat yourself up for having to fight as hard as you did, you could even find a little pride in it if you wanted to. The thing that you can't seem to escape is the heat that pools between your legs when you think about his metal hand around your throat, the sharp taste of his blood, the way he crushed your chest when he pushed you against the wall. He could have killed you so easily, he had his knife right there. With one swift flick of his powerful wrist he could have slit your throat and left you to die. The thought is positively exhilarating in the most horrible way. Your body erupts in goosebumps as you remember the way his rigid form trembled with rage. Your thighs press together when you think about him hovering above you, drenched in sweat as he bled into your mouth.

  You're not going to fucking sleep. You huff and throw your blankets off, angrily turning on your light. Your pathetic little room has no comforting elements, it just looks like a shitty hotel room. No decorations, just one generic landscape painting on the wall. Your only furniture is your bed, your night stand, and a small rickety dresser for your uniforms. All of it is a plain dark wood, the walls a bland grey much like your blankets and everything else in your life. The style of the room is intentionally designed to look like a hotel room, it's a psychological thing. The intent is to take away any feeling of a home, you're supposed to live on the move, never settle, and never feel safe.

  You quickly change out of your night clothes and throw on a clean uniform, a tight grey shirt with matching cargo pants. A glance at your watch tells you it's a little after midnight. You snatch your knife off the table and examine the blade. The metal is the same black as the handle, it's lines are sleek and deadly. Your eye is caught by a small amount of blood that remains on the edge of the blade. You wipe it on your pants, ignoring the irritating shiver that goes down your spine at the thought of making him bleed. You shove the knife into its holster then turn to check yourself in the pitiful mirror above your dresser.

  Your body has already begun to recover, your bruises fading as if they're weeks old. Your busted lip is hardly noticeable and your muscles are no longer screaming. There's no longer a welt on your cheek and you look like you've had at least ten hours of restful sleep. As much as you detest your healing abilities for ruining any chance you've ever had at living a normal life, it is incredibly convenient. You had been ripped from your family because of it, never even given a chance to develop a bond to know or miss the individuals that gave you life. You suppose it's easier like this though. If you had known them, you'd be susceptible to the pain of living without them. Instead you're filled with rage towards those who stole you from them. You can't afford to feel the weight of mourning, you don't have time for it. Instead you're propelled forward by anger and hatred, mostly for yourself, but also for those that have forced you to live your life as a tool for their own purposes here at this God forsaken Red Room facility.

  You tear yourself from the destructive train of thought as you turn to stalk out of your room. You close your door silently so you don't disturb the other girls on your hall. You chew the inside of your lip as you move down the halls of the barracks. The awful lighting casts a sickening yellow glow on the slate colored walls lined with plain white doors. You finally reach a large steel door at the end of the hall on the right. It has a poorly painted red mark on the door in the shape of a knife. You slide into the room quietly and let your shoulders drop once you're inside and hear the door close behind you. Of course it's empty at this hour, meaning you can release all of your rage without any judgement.

  The knife room, set up much like an indoor shooting range. Every assassin here is trained in close hand to hand combat, making knife handling an essential skill. You stomp into one of the stalls, desperate to relieve your frustrations. You roll your shoulders back and draw in a shaking breath. You wind your arm back and throw the knife at the human shaped target across from you, imagining it's that bastard the Winter Soldier. The handle of the knife pings off the it's thigh then clatters onto the ground, the sight fills you with burning self hatred. You let out a frustrated groan then take off to pick up your knife. You hear something shift in the corner and immediately dive for your knife, quickly returning to your feet to turn towards the noise.

  "You're too angry." Says a cold, deep voice.

  The owner of the voice steps out of the dark corner he's been hiding in. Of course it's him.

  You roll your eyes then walk back to your station.

  "I wonder why that is." You say, you try to still your racing heart as you hear his heavy footsteps moving towards you.

  "It makes you sloppy." You whip your head to face him where he's now stood behind you. His massive arms are crossed over each other, and you notice that he's wearing the same thing he wore at the fight. A strappy leather vest with heavy black pants to match and thick leather boots to tie it all together. Without his black mask to cover his mouth, his handsome features are on display. Except his beauty is shrouded by a scowl that makes his feature dark and menacing. Over all, he looks terrifying. His eyes are nearly the same cold silver as his arm. Your chest burns as his frozen gaze pierces through you, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and let a huff out through your nose.

  "I didn't ask." You say, trying your best to sound disinterested.

  In one beautiful, fluid motion he pulls his knife out and sends it flying at the target. The knife lands right in the throat of the man shaped target, the sound of the impact echoes gently off the walls.

  "My mission is to improve your skills, so I don't need you to ask. I'm telling you something, so you should listen." He says, sauntering over to retrieve his weapon. His tone is that of an overworked teacher that's been reprimanding his student for making the same mistake over and over.

  "Your mission is to improve everyone's skills, so I don't understand why you're-"

  "Are you really that stupid?" He cuts you off, visibly irritated by your statement. He comes to stand directly across from you, not even a foot apart, much too close for your liking.

  "I would have killed every one of those girls within the first five seconds of a match. There's a reason you were fighting me and not them. You have a weapon that none of them have, you are a weapon. My mission is to improve your skills. Your mutation makes you unique, it makes you valuable, they have asked me to train you." He says it slowly, like he's talking to someone hard of hearing. His patronization makes your blood boil and your fists clench.

  "There are plenty of girls here that could have held their own in that fight. Yeah, I can take a beating more than any of them, but they can all fight like hell no different than me." You say, your voice sharp.

  "You really are stupid, aren't you?" He sneers down at you.

  "You just said it yourself, you can take a beating. Yes, your fighting skills are questionable at best, but you can out fight anyone if you can exhaust them." He explains it like you're a stupid child, which only makes your rage burn hotter.

  "Is that what happened with you?" You ask, poking at his defeat earlier.

  He chuckles, his voice low and dark.

  "Oh no." He says, moving even closer to you. You can feel his hot breath on your cheeks, the sensation makes your head swim.

  "You just found a weakness, well done by the way. Except in doing so, you exposed your own weakness." His voice is absolutely sinful by the end of his sentence. You're so distracted by his seductive tone that you don't even notice his right arm reach up behind you, he grabs your hair by the roots and cranks your neck back, exposing your throat to him.

  Normally, you would fight back, but you don't want to, you can't. You let out a pathetic little noise, making him let out another deep chuckle.

  "You're pitiful." He says it almost affectionately, the gravely tone of his voice makes your legs turn to jelly.

 "I could kill you right now, but you're not even afraid, you're probably getting wet thinking about my knife against your throat." He's growling again, like he did after the fight. You hate how right he is, your core is igniting with heat. You don't even want to think about how you must be absolutely soaking your underwear.

  "What about you soldier, I think I remember you gettin' all hot and bothered when you finally got me underneath you." You tease, his advances give you the confidence to bring your hand up to ghost your fingers along the inside of his thigh.

  He laughs in disbelief, eyebrows shooting up as his lips twist into a wolfish grin.

  "Where the hell did they find you?" He says it like he's thinking out loud.

  All you can do is moan pitifully when he tightens his grip on your hair, you look up at him and let your hands fly to his chest. His eyes have that animalistic look to them, like he wants to literally rip you to shreds. Your walls flutter at the idea and you take in a sharp breath, so desperate for him to drop the teasing act and just have his way with you.

  "So fuckin' needy." He says as he lets his eyes flicker to your parted lips.

  You let your own eyes drop to his throat, your mouth waters at the site of the large red line that your knife created. You did that, you marked him. The thought makes your stomach flip, darkness fills your chest and spurs on your twisted desires. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight, an action that he obviously catches.

  "I knew it." He sighs out, his metal hand slides around to spank you harshly, his eyes still burning into yours. You moan against your will and let your nails dig into his vest. The impact of the metal makes your skin sting in a delightful way, and you only want more, so much more.

  "You're a blood thirsty slut." He punctuates his words with another harsh swat, "-and you can take a hit." His voice is starting to sound shakey, like he's holding something back.

  "Beg for me." He gives you another harsh swat.

  You seal your lips. You can't beg for him, this isn't supposed to happen. You refuse to let this asshole create any weakness within you. This has to be a test, if he's truly supposed to train you, this has to be some sick experiment to see if you're as depraved as he thinks you are. He can't win, you didn't give him a victory earlier and you sure as hell won't give him one now. You rip your eyes away from him and glare at the floor, you take a trembling breath and force yourself to deny him.

  "No." Your voice is a pathetic whisper, small and meek.

  "Wrong answer bitch." He snaps with a menacing tone. He forces your body back, walking you into the wall behind you. He presses your body against it then moves his right thigh to spread your legs so you're straddling his thick, muscular leg. His right hand is still holding fast to your hair, but his left is starting to slowly trail up your side. He lets it trace over your breast before ghosting over your collar bone. Your eyes lock with his as soon as his cold metal fingers snake around your throat. Your breath completely stops, your body frozen under his ravenous gaze. You instantly buckle under the weight of your desire for him to destroy you. The dam finally breaks and you drown in the waves of lust, all it takes is one firm squeeze from his inhuman appendage and you're a goner.

  "Fuck- please, please fucking use me." You gasp as he tightens his grip on your throat, you grind down against his thigh again, desperate for any form of friction against your aching center.

  "You've got a filthy little mouth on you." He says, finally releasing your hair.

  "Let's give it something to do." He brings his middle finger up to your lips as he relaxes his hold on your throat, you open your mouth instantly to welcome his thick finger inside.

  "Suck, darlin'." His eyebrows furrow slightly when you slide your tongue over the pad of his finger, sucking him further into your mouth. This can't be happening, you can't let yourself be this weak.

  He quickly pulls his hand out then cups your cheek, placing his thumb under your chin so he can angle your face up towards him.

  "Will you be a good girl for me?" He asks, raising his eyebrows in a challenging way, the question makes you shiver and your mind is flooded with images of him defiling you. Ok, maybe you can be this weak.

  You nod slowly, you feel adrenaline pump through your veins. Your heart is thundering in your chest and your cunt is absolutely aching with need.

  "Use your words." He says harshly, "-you know what I want to hear."

  "Yes sir." You breathe out as he slides his cold metal hand around your throat again. You sigh at the sensation and let your eyes flutter shut.

  "Now, what do you need." He asks, sliding his thumb over your pulse.

  "I need you to use me." You let your voice drop to a raspy tone as you repeat your request from moments ago, you open your eyes to see an almost disturbing look in his.

  His fingers tighten around your throat and he pulls you closer to him until his lips brush against yours, the feeling makes your chest burn.

  "Get on your back, you should be good at that." He huffs against your lips then rips himself away from you. He pulls you off of the wall by your throat and pushes you back into the middle of the room. You drop to your knees like it's second nature, you reach out to run your hands up his strong thighs and you steal a glance at the massive bulge in his pants.

  "You don't fucking listen." He growls, he hikes his large right leg up and plants his boot in the middle of your chest, he sneers down at you while he kicks you back with force. You catch yourself on your elbows and look up at him helplessly. He sinks down to his knees so he's somewhat straddling you, but mostly caging you with his body. He grabs your jaw with his right hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

  "When I tell you to do something, you do that thing exactly or I will make you sorry you didn't fucking listen." He spits the words at you, eyes ablaze with fury.

  "What if that's what I want?" You ask, testing the waters for how much patience he has for your attitude.

  His grip tightens on your jaw, inevitably leaving bruises now.

  "You want me to hurt you?" He glares down at you while he talks, he looks angry enough to snap your neck, but the lust raging in his eyes reveals his true desires.

  "Do your worst." You fire back at him.

  Then he's on you, lunging at you like a wild beast. He's pushing you into the ground by your throat, he wedges himself between your legs, pressing his hard length into your center.

  "Sweetheart, my worst would kill you." He groans into your ear. His words pull another moan out of you, your hands claw at his back when he grinds down against you rather roughly.

  "Hands and knees, now." He says then pushes off of you to kneel between your legs. A flame of defiance ignites inside you, it spreads and burns all of your common sense.

  "Fucking make me." You say, the idea of him forcing you to your hands and knees sends a rush of exhilaration through you. Your moment of thrilling defiance is cut short by the feeling of the back of his right hand cracking across your face. Your head jerks to the side as his hand connects with your jaw. You let out an indignant cry, too shocked to do anything else. As soon as he's smacked you, his hand is latched back onto your jaw, he jerks your face towards him, forcing you to scramble to your knees while your hands cling to his wrist.

  "You think you're cute, don't you?" You can feel him shaking with rage as he holds you in place. The sharp pain from his knuckles hitting your face makes your cunt clench, you have to be absolutely dripping at this point. Your entire core is throbbing, desperate to be filled by him.

  "Answer me." He barks.

  "I think -oh shit." You're cut short by the feeling of him running two metal fingers rubbing your clit through your pants. Your body responds instantly to his rough touch, hips bucking against his hand.

  "What do you think?" He teases, pulling his fingers aware from where you need them most.

  "I think you're doing too much talking, not enough fucking." You snap.

  That does it, that pushes his last button. It all happens far too quickly for you to even process everything he does. You feel a sharp pain under your arms, then feel your back hit the hard cement wall. He rips your pants down your legs, bringing himself to his knees so he can rip each of your feet out of the pant legs. You're completely exposed to him now, the cold air hits your pussy and you shiver at the pleasant shock. You glance down at him as he slowly slides the knuckles of his right hand up the inside of your right leg. His cold eyes follow his hand's movement all the way up to where you're desperate for him.

  He uses his knuckles to tease your clit, earning a hiss from you. The sound seems to snap him out of his lustful trance, his body shoots up to loom over you. He glares down at you as his hands move to undo his belt. Your mouth waters at the sight, eager to finally see him exposed.

  "I'm gonna fuck you." He breathes, pulling his belt from the loops of his pants.

  "I'm gonna fuck you like the whore you are, and it's gonna hurt. You're gonna keep that fucking mouth shut, you're gonna take it like a good girl, and you're not going to cum until I say so, do you understand?" He unbuttons his pants, pulls his zipper down, then he pulls out his painfully hard cock. His tip is already dripping with precum, you reach out to touch him, wanting to feel all that girth in your hand. To say he's well endowed would be an understatement, the soldier is fucking massive.

  He snatches your wrist and throws it to the side.

  "Do. You. Understand?" He says, his voice is strained and impatient.

  "Yes sir, I understand." You say weakly, even you're growing tired of the teasing. You're so fucking desperate at this point you don't even have the energy to quip back at him. You're completely pliant now, nothing but putty in his rough and capable hands.

  "Good girl. Now jump." He grabs you by the backs of your thighs, you oblige eagerly. You wrap your arms around his neck and jump off of the floor. He presses you against the wall, he uses his metal hand to hold you around your waist, the other to brace himself against the wall. You help him by wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing your dripping folds against his solid cock, trapping his length between your hot bodies.

  "Fuck." He breathes, letting his head fall to your shoulder.

  "Please, let me put it in." You beg, then press your lips into the side of his head.

  "Since you asked so nicely." He huffs against your neck, his voice has lost most of its rough edge, he sounds much less stable now and much more desperate.

  You reach down between your bodies and grab his length by the base, giving him one long stroke before sliding his tip along your folds, gathering your slick as you line him up at your entrance. He doesn't give you a single second to do anything else before he snaps his hips up, shoving himself into you. He was definitely right about it hurting, you bite into his leather clad shoulder to muffle your cry. He presses himself into you and you feel tears prick your eyes as he stretches you painfully. He brings his head away from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. Your eyes lock with suffocating intensity and your cunt immediately clenches around his cock, now completely inside of you. He hisses at the sensation, then he presses his lips against yours with bruising force.

  You moan into the kiss, letting your fingers dig through his messy brown hair. He presses his tongue against your lips and you open wide for him. The way he's kissing only makes you want more of him, your chest fills with the shameful desire to be used by him. The way he moves against you is flawless, he's rough and precise, like he's already known your body for years. He bites your bottom lip then slowly pulls his hips back just to thrust himself back inside you.

  "Shit!" You sob against his mouth, pulling his hair a little as the broken sound leaves your throat. He's stretching you out and filling you up, he's absolutely ruining you. The sharp pain of his cock opening you up is something you only want more of.

  "You've got such a tight little cunt." He sighs pulling back again then sliding in at a torturous pace.

  "Tell me again, what do you need?" He asks, voice catching when your walls flutter around him.

  "I need you to use me, hurt me, fuck me. Please- shit- please fucking ruin me." Your voice is broken and full of lust, you look him dead in the eyes while you confess your needs to him. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as you beg. He's barely even started, and you're already a moaning mess for him.

 With a growl and a wild look in his eyes he pulls out slowly one last time, then he starts ramming into you suddenly and relentlessly. Your jaw drops and you grab onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck completely, your head falls back against the wall and a moan rips out of your throat.

  "You fucking whore, you're dripping. You like it when I hurt you? Does that make this pussy wet?" He says with a mocking tone.

  "Yes sir." You cry, your thighs squeeze his hips, his words stoke a familiar flame inside you.

  If at all possible, he snaps his hips into you even harder, the obscene sounds of his skin meeting yours fill the room, you can even hear how soaked you are as he pumps in and out of you.

  "I knew this is what you wanted." He huffs, he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips.

  "As soon as you licked my blood off of your lips, I knew you were a nasty little pain slut." He ends his sentence with a harsh moan.

  Your back is being rubbed raw by the concrete of the wall, your cunt is being split open by his brutal pace, but you welcome all the pain. You fucking love it, it makes everything so much more thrilling. His thrusts halt for just a brief moment, just long enough for him to pull you off of the wall with a growl. He falls back onto the ground, landing so you're straddling him, your hands plant on either side of his head, knees aching from the impact. He throws his arms around your waist then he starts snapping his hips up, drilling himself into your pussy. The new angle allows him to rut into you so hard that the head of his dick pounds into your cervix with every brutal thrust. You sob into his shoulder, your arms give out and you collapse against his chest. You can feel his cock so fucking deep, this new position is more incredible than anything you've ever felt. You're fully sobbing now, hands gripping at him wherever they can't find purchase. You moan out broken sentences, begging for more and more of his addicting thrusts.

  "How's that feel, bitch?" He says with a ragged voice. He brings his metal hand down against your ass, smacking it so hard you're certain he breaks the skin. It only makes you clench around him even tighter, the exhilarating sensation pushes more years from your eyes as you all but scream out.

  "Good girl, fuckin' take it." He groans.

  His words make your abs seize up, you feel your legs start to shake and your cunt start tighten, electricity settles in your lower belly and your walls start to flutter.

  He smacks your ass again, so fucking hard.

  "I didn't say you could cum yet." He sinks his teeth into your neck with a harsh groan. The sting only brings you closer to the edge.

  "Please sir, please I'm so fucking close. Let me cum on your cock. Please please please." You sound absolutely pathetic, you feel drool drip out of your open mouth as he drills into you mercilessly.

  "Look at you, you're such a fuckin' mess." He gives you a particularly rough thrust, absolutely nailing your cervix much harder than he has been. The delicious sting makes your entire body tremble.

  "Please let me cum sir, I'll be a good girl I swear please just let me cum. I wanna be so fuckin' good for you, I'll do anything." You beg like you're pleading for your life, your body is so painfully close to release, but you don't dare reach down to play with your clit, you know better.

  "Tell me what you need, sweetheart." He moans against your neck. The gentle nature of the name he's just moaned contrasts harshly with the previous degrading terms, it strokes your ego in a delicious way.

  "My clit, please, please rub my clit." Your voice is completely shredded, thankfully, he seems to finally give you what you want.

  His flesh hand shoots down between your bodies, finding your clit immediately. The contact sends electric shocks through your cunt and down your legs. You bite onto his shoulder again to quiet your screaming.

  "No." He growls, his free hand snatches you by your roots and rips your mouth from his shoulder, the sharp pain makes you cry out from the back of your throat.

  "I better fuckin' hear it when you cum- fuck- do it now, be a good girl like you promised and let me feel you cum." That's all it takes, his fingers working at your clit as his rough voice grants you permission. You tremble violently against him as you finally let your orgasm rip through you. White hot pleasure shreds every nerve in your body. An inhuman scream leaves your throat as your walls contract around his dick. He just keeps fucking you through it, not stopping his destructive pace for even a second.

  "Cum inside me." You moan out against the side of his head while your nails dig into his shoulders. His hips stutter slightly and he lets out a high pitched moan that only makes your walls squeeze tighter.

  "Yeah? You want me to come inside your slutty little cunt?" He asks, voice laced with a desperate edge that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

  "Please, I want you to ruin this cunt, I want you to ruin me." You beg, and he finally fucking breaks.

  With a deep, ragged moan he buries himself inside you, stilling as he spills his load deep within your walls. You gasp as you feel his thick cock pulse inside you, painting your insides white with his hot cum.

  "Fucking shit- good girl, such a good girl." He chants against your neck, nipping the skin between moans. You're both panting heavily, hands clinging to each other without any desire to let go. You lift your head slightly to gaze down at him. He stares up at you with lust blown pupils, the silvery blue of his irises nearly overtaken by the dark centers. Neither of you say a word, you just lay there and drink each other in. Whatever you've unlocked with each other tonight isn't something you could even begin to talk about. Your bodies twitch against each other, both of you riding out your aftershocks, coming down from your frantic highs. You let your forehead drop to meet his as a dopey smile spreads across your face.

  His flesh hand comes up to cradle your face gently, the tenderness of it makes you jump slightly. He takes a deep breath in before uttering his next words with a deep, warning voice.

  "Do you still want me to do my worst?"

@b-o-n-e-daddy @can-i-sin-right-now @confused-racoon @lostsoul23 @buckysbbygirl @perksofbeingabookworm @peace-love-hobbitness @buckyshenley16 @brownlee-22 @deardiarylovegale @upsettispagettii @supernaturalbaesduh @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @blowing-mikey @littlegasps

[legoshi-plz]

Late Night Visitor (Riz x Reader)

Summary: It’s late at night and Riz catches you by yourself. Looks like Herbivores aren’t his only prey. Dark!Riz x Domesticated Dog! Reader

Part Two

Warnings: Smut (NSFW +18), Dark! Non-Con. TW: For Rape, Abuse, Mention Of Past Victims, etc.

///////////

“H-Hello?” Silence. It must have just been the wind.

You knew you shouldn’t be alone in the auditorium by yourself this late at night and that a teacher could come give you detention at any moment but you really needed to practice. Louis said the dance solo slot in the next Drama Club Showcase was as good as yours if you could prove to him you were the best dancer there. You knew you weren’t but you were the most creative by far and as long as you could perfect the routine you had fine-tuned especially for your body and capabilities, there was no way he couldn’t give it to you.

You knew there was always the possibility he wouldn’t give it to you anyway just because you were a Carnivore. Not just any Carnivore, a domesticated dog, the clumsiest your Canine clan had to offer. Certain moves that were cakewalks for the more graceful and agile Carnivores, like Juno, had you stumbling in seconds. But what you lacked in equilibrium, you made up for in determination.

The auditorium doors opened and shut. Your ears weren’t deceiving you, you definitely weren’t alone.

“Hello?” More silence.

“I know you’re there.” More silence. You walked to the front of the stage and saw a large figure standing by the door.

“I was just about to leave,” you called out in case it was a teacher. Something in the back of your mind told you if it was a teacher, they would have spoken up by now.

The figure stepped closer, approaching you slowly. Your eyes finally adjusted enough to the lack of light and you could make out who it was. It was a grizzly bear, he was in the same year as you in the Art Department of the Drama club. You were a little embarrassed to admit you didn’t really know anything about him, you had never really noticed him. What was his name again? Ralph? Razz? Rick? Ri-Riz!

“Riz, is that you?” You said lightly. He was now directly in front of you standing below the stage.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asked. His voice was so friendly. You could recall speaking to him a few times before in passing, he was always so friendly. It was such a contrast to his aura, which your dog instincts found downright menacing. You scolded yourself for your own ingrained prejudice. You had to give him the benefit of the doubt, you were both Carnivores after all. If Carnivores didn’t stick up for each other, who would?

“I was just practicing. The Winter Showcase is right around the corner.” You laughed dryly. His beady eyes never left you for a second. It was unnerving.

“You shouldn’t be here all alone. There’s monsters out there.” He stepped onto the stage as if it was any other measly step and not nearly a four feet drop.

“Monsters....? Like who?” you noticed his frame, where intimidating before, was downright massive now. He hadn’t always been this big, you were sure of it. You would have noticed right?

“Like me.” Silence. More silence.

Once your mind finally wrapped around what he had said, your legs immediately took off only to have him slam you into the ground before you could even make it off the stage. When you tried to crawl away he grabbed you by your ankle and drug you back to him.

“Now you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” He growled, his sharp fangs barred.

You knew occasionally when an animal was extremely desperate, they would eat other Carnivores but it was such a rare occurrence, nearly unheard of in today’s society. It was especially rare for female dogs, their meat was highly unfavorable to the palette so they were rarely devoured however they did come in as the number one demographic of victims for a.... different type of assault.

Riz ripped away your uniform, tearing it nearly to shreds. Your blood turned cold as you realized exactly what he planned to do.

“No... no Riz, please!” You begged trying to cover yourself. He chuckled then proceeded to rip your underwear off, not worried about your bra.

Domesticated Female Dogs were the number one victims of rape from male carnivores of all species. They were seen as docile, weak, and in some instances, traitors to the animal race. They were also easy targets. No one ever believed a Carnivore when they were attacked. They were supposed to be able to defend themselves right? Right?

Riz seemed intent to show you just how wrong you were.

“Please, Riz, you don’t have to do this!” You screamed thrashing beneath him. He grabbed you by your neck, lifting you slightly then slamming you back down to the ground. Your ears started ringing.

“You sure have a lot to say to me now? I can remember you not even knowing I was alive.” He grumbled, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. Of course he went commando.

“I’m sorry! Please, let me go, I’ll do better!” You were near hysterical now, the panic having fully set in.

“Too late,” He sighed in content, ripping your legs apart and settling between then. His menacing girth already standing at attention.

He spit into his hand, pumping his swollen length then lining himself up with your entrance. He thrust once, stretching you way beyond your limit.

“Wait, please, just give me a second. You’re gonna tear me in two with that thing!” You cried, placing a hand on his stomach to try and keep him at bay.

“That’s the whole point,” he chuckled, pushing more, “ but I’m not a total bastard. I’ll make you a deal, kiss me and I’ll think about going slow.”

“Y-you can’t be serious-“

“One time offer, take it or leave it,” he pushed further and you could have wept at the pain.

“Fine, fine, fine! I’ll do it, I’ll kiss you just please give me a second!” You sat up on your elbows, wondering how the hell you were going to reach up to kiss his massive form.

He leaned down to meet you halfway before murmuring, “Try anything funny and I’ll break your jaw.”

You gulped and allowed him to kiss you. Without warning, he pushed his entire length into you, making you cry out in pain. This was all the opportunity he needed to shove his tongue down your throat to silence you. Just when you thought you were about pass out from lack of oxygen, he finally let your lips go with a cocky grin.

He wasted no time pumping into you, each thrust feeling like a punch to the gut. He was way too big for the shamefully inadequate amount of prep you endured. If things were different, if the two of you were actual lovers, if he actually gave a damn about this feeling good, you knew it would. There were small wisps of pleasure mixed in with the overall guilt and pain of him fucking you and you couldn’t help but imagine how amazing this would have felt if any other circumstances had brought the two of you together. But not this. This was demeaning. This was force. This was ra-

“The least you could do is look at me when I fuck you!” Riz’s voice thundered. Your eyes shot to his hulking form sweating on top of you. Something was wrong with him, besides the fact he was forcing his dick inside you. He didn’t look like he usually did, something in him had snapped. Even his eyes, which were almost friendly twenty minutes ago, looked absolutely feral now. He almost looked... wild.

“Tell me how good this feels! Tell me how much you love this,” Riz was going at a near bone breaking speed now and you were struggling to stay in rhythm just so you could avoid the worst of his strength. He was too caught up in his own delusional fantasy to realize you were gyrating away from him.

His claws suddenly wrapped around your throat. His fangs were glistening in saliva, his entire disposition showcasing his carnal hunger.

“Do it or I’ll fucking rip your throat out?” He growled, one claw hovering over your kill point. Your body clenched in fear.

“It-It f-f-fee-“

“Louder!”

“It feels so good! Nobody’s ever fucked me like this! Your cock’s so huge! I love it!” You yelled but you were only rewarded with his muderous laughs.

“Fuck! You just got so fucking tight! That does it for you, huh? You get turned on when I threaten to kill ya?” His grip tightened on your throat, this time completely constricting your airways. You thought this was going to be the time you actually passed out but right as your vision turned tunnel, he let you go, cumming deep inside you.

“Fuuuuuuck, if I had known it was going to be that good, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He panted on top of you. You were still gasping for air, having finally been released from his hold.

He pulled himself out of your wrecked womb and watched completely mesmerized as his cum leaked out of you. He tucked himself back into his pants and stood, adjusting his uniform.

“Tell anybody about this and I’ll have to kill you, just like I killed the last one,” Riz said casually, hopping off the stage and out the auditorium doors.

Your entire body felt grotesque. It was like your fur wasn’t your fur anymore, like your limbs weren’t even your limbs anymore. You couldn’t even bare to pick yourself up you were so ashamed. It was as if he took your body with him, as if... as if...

As if you belonged to him now.

[swimyghost]

I decided to write a little ficlet about @self-insert-nonsense Resident Evil Village OC Elise. I hope y’all enjoy

------

He did it. The famous Ethan Winters actually did it.

Elise had tried to pull him out of the Dimistrescu estate while he traversed the castle, but her foolish nieces had been chasing him around like chickens without their heads. She had elected to catch him if he managed to make it outside.

She was heavily regretting her decision.

Elise watched as the beastly form of her sister, a form she never knew existed, smash its way out of the castle to pursue the man. She tried to climb up the walls to stop either one of them from killing each other. That plan failed as Ethan fired his last sniper shot into the once-powerful Alcina Dimistrescu’s head, sending them both crashing down from the tower they were standing on and landing on the stone bottom. The sixth member of the strange Cadou bearing family waited until the Winters man fled the scene to see if what she had witnessed was true.

“Sister?” she muttered quietly, stepping over the broken stone. “...Sister? Lady Dimistrescu? ...ALCINA!”

The mixture of dust and its crystalline counterpart cemented her worse fears. Her older sister, the vampiric lord, Alcina Dimistrescu, laid dead. She froze only for a moment before rushing to search the rest of the now eerily silent castle, praying to anyone that could hear her pleas that the three Dimistrescu daughters were alive. 

First, she found Bela, next Daniela, and finally, Cassandra. After seeing the remains of the last of Alcina’s kin, Elise had to choke back a cry. Her cries were referred to by her lover Heisenburg as Banshee Shrieaks, though her brother Moreau called them Siren Screams. Whatever her wails were, the Irish lord had to keep her true feelings buried within as to not alert Ethan that someone remained. Despite her reluctance to show her inner emotions, Elise’s brain was forcing her to remember every detail she had in regards to the Dimistrescu family.

Meeting Alcina for the first time. The tall vampire woman comforting her after being injected and surviving the Cadou parasite. Watching as three little botflies grew into beautiful young ladies. Tea parties, balls, hunts, every moment flooded her senses.

“That bastard!” Elise howled, smashing through a nearby window and climbing down the now empty castle’s walls. Heisenberg’s plan was already going to shit. Her lover wanted the Winters man as an ally for his uprising against Mother Miranda, the Ruler of the Lords, and Elise.

“That creepy crow bitch needs to go down,” he told her after all the lords returned to their domains. His factory wasn’t technically her home, but Heisenburg hated the fact she lived so close to his extremely Miranda-devoted brother’s land so they arranged for her to make the metalsmith’s home hers. “She’ll kill us once Eva is revived. I can feel it.”

Elise had traced circles on his bare sweat covered chest, only partially listening. “So, we’re going to release the army? Just like that? You’re a fool if you think that’ll work.”

“What?” he snarled.

“Let’s see,” Elise began to count on her fingers, “not only is half of that BSAA group knocking on our doorstep, but Captain Boulder-Puncher and his lackeys are hiding in the shadows, and that girl’s father is walking around free. Something you let happened.”

Heisenburg snorted. “All a part of my plan. You’ve heard the rumors about the Baker’s residence, haven’t you? Ethan Winters will aid us. He just needs a little encouragement.”

“I suppose that’s where I come in?”

“You’re the fastest out of the two of us. Besides, you can get near that mega bitch’s castle without being killed on site. That is where you chased him to, right?”

“It’s not like he wasn’t going to go there anyway,” Elise huffed. “If I was a man looking for his kid, a giant fucking castle in the middle of the mountains is the place I go to first.”

Heisenburg had let out a small chuckle, reaching for his cigar. “I guess you’re right.”

Elise stopped him and pulled his face close to her, her eyelids half-closed. “I’m going to need some… Encouragement, if I’m going to be running around after another man.”

Her lover let out one of his famous wolf-like grins. “And I’ll be happy to provide.”

All of that talk was worthless to her now. The Fifth Lord wished she would’ve slapped some sense into her man but it was too late now. Her sister the “mega-bitch” and her daughters were dead and Elise had no clue where their killer might’ve run off to. She crashed landed onto a pile of snow, sending white flakes all over the landscape.

“Impressive form as always, Miss Brighid.”

Elise whipped her head only to be greeted with the smirking face of a monstrously obese man. He had hidden away in a wooden cart and was currently scratching at his stomach mass. Elise bared her teeth at the man. “I don’t need your commentary, Duke, I need answers.”

The Duke didn’t seem phased by the woman’s harsh tone. “Always straight to business, just like your main squeeze, Lord Heisenburg.”

She could feel her eyelid twitching. “Duke.”

“Right, I’m guessing you’re looking for Mr. Winters?”

“Mister Winters?” Elise snarled.

“I treat all my customers with respect, Miss Brighid.”

“He’s a customer!?”

Elise never understood why Mother Miranda allowed this behemoth to roam the village. He held no alliance to anyone and sold to anything that held a purse full of Lei. Even after years sent replicating the files and notes Mother Miranda had on everyone and everything slightly related to the village and her cause, barely anything was written about the strange merchant. The most both Heisenberg and Elise managed to gather was that “The Duke shall be allowed to do his business with little supervision as he provides valuable goods for both the villagers, the Lords, and [Mother Miranda’s] cause”. Regardless of what former feelings she held for The Duke, the current Elise was struggling to not rip his throat out.

“But of course! The man has things to sell and items to purchase for his little journey.” The Duke explained, talking to her as if she were a child who needed her hand held.

“Those items led to my sis- Lady Dimistrecu’s death! She is- She was- Argh!” 

Elise buried her fingers into her scalp. Her mind was seemingly whirling and spinning as it struggled to process its surroundings. Her feelings fluctuated from feral-like rage to sheer confusion to inescapable sadness. The Duke noticed and leaned in, his caravan creaking as he tried to look at the distressed woman’s face.

“I see the Cadou is still inflicting its poison into your brain. Are you feeling… What did Lord Heisenberg say… Fragmented? Perhaps I have a salve that can help settle your-”

“Shut up! Just shut up before I-”

The woman couldn’t finish her threat as a burning sensation rose in her throat. She gagged and stumbled backward. Elise managed to angle her head in just a way so the puddle of magma she vomited up didn’t touch herself in any way. Both she and The Duke watched the magma rapidly burned away the snow and dead plant life. Elise returned her gaze to The Duke and noticed the man was grimacing.

“Pardon my crudeness, Miss Brighid, but that was revolting.”

“I don’t take any pleasure either, Duke,” Elise replied, still trying to catch her breath.

“Luckily none of the locals saw that. The rumors about you have grown even nastier as of late. I believe they’ve begun to call you the- forgive my language -the Lady Whore and the Faux-Lord.” The Duke said with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“I know what you are trying to do, lardass!” Elise hissed. “Screw those mortal bastards and their pathetic drivel! They’re all gonna die anyway so what’s the point of trying to piss me off!”

The Duke chuckled. “This is funny. The old Miss Brighid would’ve instantly run to the village to invoke some personal justice against those who soiled her good name.”

“Well the old Miss Brighid didn’t have a killer father running amok, now did she?” Elise ground her teeth. “Speaking of, where is he? Where is the Winters man?”

The Duke leaned back and picked at his teeth with the help of his pinky nail. “I believe Mr. Winters was headed towards Lady Beneviento’s residence.”

Elise’s blood ran cold at that name. Her sister Donna Beneviento didn’t have any of her other siblings’ regenerative powers. She sadly had to rely on the body’s natural healing process and the medicine she crafted from her flowers. If Winters managed to land a clean shot on the silent maiden…

She has Angie and her hallucinogens if anything were to go wrong, she’ll be fine! Elise tried to convince herself. She had seen men who were the pinnacle of mental and physical health turn to sobbing, fragile-minded shells of their former selves due to Donna’s plants. Maybe she could get the jump on Winters instead of the other way around. But that wasn’t a bet she was willing to make.

I’ve already lost four family members, I cannot lose more! 

“It hasn’t been a pleasure seeing you, Duke,” Elise glared at the man. Before he could say anything, the Cadou wielder shot off towards the mountains where her sister’s manor lied in wait. The cold nipped at her skin but Elise persisted.

I need to hurry. Screw Karl’s plan, I need to protect my family!

[sceptilemasterr]

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 1 - Identity Crisis

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: Atlas helps Beckett, Fiora, and Shreya practice the first step of their Combat Forms.

Previous Scene: Surprises All Around

Masterlist: Link

EXT. PCSA MAIN QUAD - LAKE - MORNING

It is a frigid winter morning on Penderghast’s campus. The quad is completely deserted, save for a single figure: Atlas stands on the shore of the lake, running through some warm-up exercises on her own. Despite the fact that she is dressed only in thin athletic pants and a t-shirt, she does not appear to be bothered by the cold. Several times, she glances back in the direction of the main campus as though waiting for someone.

ATLAS (muttering): “Beauty rest” my ass. If I have to drag you out of bed myself, I will--

She stops talking abruptly when she hears the sound of footsteps in the snow. Looking back toward Fletchly Hall, she spots Fiora, Shreya, and Beckett all approaching the lake, Shreya apparently regaling the other two with a story of some kind. All of them are dressed for the weather, unlike Atlas. Atlas waves stiffly in their direction as they get closer.

ATLAS: There you are. Let’s start.

BECKETT: Yes, excellent. Straight to business.

The three of them assemble side-by-side, with Atlas standing between them and the lake. She claps her hands together and addresses the others.

ATLAS: Right. So, Stoicheal Gather.

FIORA (muttering): Well, hi to you too, Atlas...

Atlas either does not hear her sister or chooses to ignore her as she plants her feet comfortably apart, crosses her arms in front of her chest, and starts to concentrate. Within a few seconds, glowing blue wisps of Water Stoichi begin forming around Atlas, swirling faster and faster in a vortex with herself as the central point. Shreya and Fiora look around in surprise while Beckett calmly observes. The vortex of energy grows tighter around Atlas, until it finally flows all at once into her body with a thunderclap. Fiora lets out a soft shriek at the noise.

SHREYA: Wow. Nicely done!

BECKETT: An impressive display!

Atlas opens her eyes and lets her arms fall to her sides. Her skin glows a faint blue.

ATLAS: That was a Stoicheal Gather. It’s not gonna be easy; took me a year to learn it. And another year to master actual Combat Form.

Fiora frowns.

FIORA (panicking): But we’ve only got a few months!

ATLAS: And you’ve got a teacher. I was completely solo. Don’t worry about it.

She nonchalantly flicks a hand back toward the lake, unleashing a torrent of water pouring from her palm into the lake’s surface.

ATLAS: Anyway. Gather isn’t too different from what you’ve done before: sensing your innate stoicheal energy and all that. The difference is maintaining the kind of focus needed to draw up this much energy at once.

SHREYA: I’ve tried this on my own. I always lose it at the vortex. How did you get it to rush into yourself like that?

ATLAS: They call it the “foundation point.” And it’s honestly all mental.

She taps a finger to her head.

ATLAS: You need to keep your mind fixated on a single, strong concept that’s connected with who you are as a person. The way you think of yourself. Something that won’t waver or fade--that’s key! The foundation point is what’ll keep you from going feral once we get into actual Combat Forms.

FIORA: “A single, strong concept...” like what?

ATLAS: It’s unique to each of us. Mine, for example, is justice. My whole life I’ve been fighting against Raife and his damn cultists. Instead of using my hatred for Raife--which will just falter after he’s defeated--I focus on my sense of justice so I can maintain it even once he’s dealt with. That’s the most important part: it has to be a constant!

BECKETT: Ah! So, myself, for instance... I could use my identity as a Harrington and the sense of duty that comes with it. That is something that will be with me all of my life.

Atlas smirks.

ATLAS: Sure, that’ll work. As long as you think that’s strong enough.

SHREYA: Beckett, that gives me an idea! But instead of my path as a Mistry, I’d like to focus on my own path. My desire to step out from my family’s shadow and find my own future.

ATLAS: Kinda vague if you ask me, but sure. Fiora?

FIORA: Who, me? I... uh... I’ll think of something.

Atlas frowns but chooses not to comment.

ATLAS: Alright, everybody might want to spread apart a little. You saw how big my vortex started out--that’s how much space you’ll need.

Beckett, Shreya, and Fiora all exchange a glance before spreading out to allow enough space between them.

ATLAS: Right! Now, everyone try it! Focus on your foundation point and start drawing on your innate stoicheal energy!

The other three adopt similar poses to the one Atlas had done at the start of her demonstration, closing their eyes and focusing. For the first few seconds, nothing happens. Then, shining orange wisps of fire stoichi begin circling around Shreya.

ATLAS: There it is! Great, Shreya!

Fiora opens her eyes and looks over at Shreya. A few more wisps of energy steadily add themselves to her vortex as they grow faster and faster. Silver stoicheal energy starts appearing around Beckett, as well, though these are slower and fainter than the ones around Shreya.

ATLAS: Good, Beckett. Keep going!

Beckett visibly falters and his wisps of energy start to fade. He increases his concentration, bringing them back. Fiora closes her eyes and tries again, concentrating hard... but still nothing happens.

FIORA (frustrated): Ugh... come... ON!

The camera focuses on Fiora’s face, and we hear her voice, echoing in internal monologue:

FIORA (inner thoughts): Shreya... friends... Pend Pals... no, my old friends... Hartfeld... Penderghast... Shreya... Atlas, my sister... Shreya... school... justice? No, that’s Atlas’s...

ATLAS: Nice, Shreya! Now!

Shreya’s vortex is swirling furiously, fire stoichi surrounding her and almost touching her skin. Shreya opens her eyes in surprise at Atlas’s shout.

SHREYA: Wha--!

But that is enough to break her concentration. The Fire Stoichi around her dissipates, swirling off into the air and casting a brief warmth across the otherwise chilly campus.

SHREYA (frustrated): Zut alors! I was so close!

ATLAS: Not bad for your first real try. You’ve just gotta open your innate stoichi, allow it inside. It’s the opposite of what you’ve learned in class. You’re not releasing your innate stoichi, you’re letting it flow back in.

SHREYA: Ah, right. That makes sense.

Beckett’s own vortex is swirling still, but it is patchy, incomplete... large gaps in the side reveal he has not gathered quite enough Metal Stoichi yet. After another moment, the vortex starts to slow before dissipating into the air much like Shreya’s had.

BECKETT: It would seem I am struggling with this task.

ATLAS (nods): Your foundation point. Do you have anything else?

BECKETT: What, a replacement for my identity as a Harrington? I cannot possibly--

Atlas shakes her head.

ATLAS: Not a replacement. Alongside. A foundation point can be made up of more than one concept.

BECKETT: A second foundation point? Hmm...

ATLAS: Think about it. Shreya, why don’t you try again. You almost had it.

SHREYA: Okay, Atlas.

As Shreya focuses once more, Atlas walks over to Fiora.

FIORA: Sorry, Atlas... I can’t do it!

ATLAS: You barely summoned anything. I think I spotted one or two wisps, but...

FIORA (sighs): I knew it. I’m never gonna--

ATLAS: Alright, enough of that crap. Listen, Fiora. You’ve got the raw power: I think the whole birthday cake incident was enough proof of that. So that’s not the problem.

FIORA: Then what--?

ATLAS: The foundation point. What’s yours?

FIORA: I... uh... well, there’s a lot of things, but I’m not--

ATLAS: Then there’s your problem. You should have one, single answer for me when I ask you.

FIORA: I... I don’t.

ATLAS: Then find one! Fiora, tell me this: who are you?

FIORA: ...Huh? I’m, uh, your sister?

ATLAS: No, no. Who... are... you?

FIORA (thinking): Um... a Light-Att?

Atlas rubs her forehead in exasperation.

ATLAS: I’m really bad at this. It’s just... I think you’ll need some time to think on this. Maybe Shreya or Zeph could help. I’m probably the wrong person for this part. Sorry.

FIORA: No! It’s not you! I’m just... well...

There is a sound like a thunderclap, and Atlas and Fiora turn sharply in its direction to see Shreya, glowing with orange light and smiling broadly at them.

SHREYA: Atlas! Atlas! I did it! Look!

Atlas nods and walks over to Shreya.

ATLAS: Nicely done. Now, the next step is to--

Shreya’s skin starts glowing brighter. She looks down at herself nervously as Atlas begins summoning a swirl of water stoichi in her hand.

SHREYA: Uh... Atlas? What do I--

ATLAS: Let off the excess! Straight into the lake, launch the biggest blast of flame you can!

SHREYA: I--!

Shreya thrusts her arms out toward the lake, sending twin bursts of flame into the water. Steam billows up around them all... but Shreya is still glowing.

ATLAS: Bigger!

SHREYA: What?!

Flames start erupting around Shreya’s feet, lighting the grass around them on fire despite the snow. The flames grow bigger and bigger, before--

ATLAS: Deluge.

The energy in Atlas’s palm unleashes a torrential wave of water that washes over Shreya--and the fire--before flowing into the lake. Though Shreya stands sopping wet, there is no longer any trace of the fire at her feet, and her skin is back to normal.

SHREYA (shrieking): Atlas! Do you have any idea how much I paid for these clothes?!

ATLAS: Then why’d you wear them to a training session? Anyway, you’re not on fire anymore. You’re welcome.

BECKETT: I believe I understand. Once we’ve performed a Stoicheal Gather, that energy must go somewhere, correct?

ATLAS: Exactly. Energy can’t be created or destroyed. Once you’ve gathered that much stoichi, you’ve got to use it or else... it’ll “use” you.

She gestures at Shreya’s feet, where the flames have left a neat circle of melted snow behind.

ATLAS: Since we’re not ready for Combat Forms yet, that means letting it out in a huge blast of energy. That’s why we’re practicing by the lake. Build it up, and launch it--metal, fire, doesn’t matter--straight into the water.

SHREYA: Well! You could have told us that before we began!

ATLAS (sheepishly): ...I forgot.

BECKETT: Hmph. Perhaps, if your memory was as impeccable as mine is, you wouldn’t have--

ATLAS: Shut up and keep practicing, Harrington.

BECKETT (irritated): Very well, Luxen!

FIORA (innocently): ...What did I do?

BECKETT: Not you. I meant--oh, right. Same surname. I'd forgotten.

ATLAS (sarcastically): What was that about “impeccable memory?”

BECKETT: I... erm...

A short montage ensues of several more practice attempts, as Fiora struggles to think of something to use as her foundation point. Shreya is the first to perfect her Stoicheal Gather, but she struggles with releasing her energy; Atlas has to extinguish her flames on more than one occasion. Beckett eventually performs a Gather, which is followed by a massive cube of metal which he creates and launches into the lake, letting out a splash that drenches himself, Shreya, Atlas, and Fiora. Fiora, for her part, continues struggling, still unable to maintain her focus.

ATLAS (shouting): Alright! Enough!

She claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention. In the distance, a few students can be seen walking across the quad, now that it is a little later in the morning. Fiora stares down at her feet dejectedly, and Shreya walks over to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

ATLAS: Today was a great start. I don’t know how often we’ll be able to do this--you’ve got classes and all--but we’ll find time. Class dismissed, or something.

FIORA: Thanks, Atlas.

Shreya and Fiora start walking back, away from the lake, while Beckett starts talking with Atlas. Fiora sighs in disappointment.

FIORA: Shreya, you looked so cool with your Stoicheal Gather! I’m a Light-Att and everything, but I couldn’t even manage this.

SHREYA: Fiora. It’s okay! It isn’t exactly a competition... besides, we still have months before they expect us to have Combat Form ready. Plenty of time to practice!

FIORA: I know, but still... Shreya, how did you do it? What’s the secret?

SHREYA: It’s like Atlas said: you need a strong foundation point.

FIORA (sadly): That’s exactly what I’m stuck on.

SHREYA: Here’s an easy one: why are you here at Penderghast?

FIORA: Uh... because I fell in a lake and ended up here?

SHREYA: Right. Bad example. What about the school you used to go to? The Tuneless one, I mean?

FIORA: Not really sure there, either. I was just there because it’s what people do after high school, I guess. I never really thought about it--

SHREYA: Then that’s your assignment for now: finding out what motivates you! And there’s no better person to help with that than myself, naturally!

As they continue walking, Shreya thinks for a moment, pondering how best to help Fiora with her problem. Then she catches sight of a glimmering poster affixed to the outside of the Fletchly Hall entrance.

SHREYA (excitedly): Oh! Fiora, look!

FIORA: What? Is it about Stoicheal Gather?

SHREYA: No, no, nothing like that. I’d forgotten! The Amorelia Day Gala is coming up soon! Oh, this is so exciting--my sister’s told me all about them, of course, but this will be my first chance to go to one myself!

She points to the poster, and Fiora follows her gaze. The poster is decorated with colorful silhouettes of dancing couples, all moving around the center. In the middle of the poster, the words “PCSA AMORELIA DAY GALA 2018 - MARCH 17, 7:00 PM” have been written in glimmering golden letters. Shreya beams at Fiora, who simply stares in puzzlement.

FIORA: Okay... but what is it?

SHREYA: Only the biggest social event of the school year! It’s a dance that’s held each year, celebrating the coming of spring. But mostly it’s an excuse for everyone to relax, enjoy themselves, and maybe... spend some quality time with a special someone!

She says the last few words while looking pointedly at Fiora.

FIORA: Oh. Wow. I, uh, didn’t even know about this!

SHREYA: That’s alright! It is rather exciting. And so much fun to prepare for--

FIORA: One thing at a time, Shreya... I’m too worried about this Combat Form thing to even think about a dance right now. I’ll worry about it later.

Frustrated, Fiora pushes open the doors to Fletchly Hall and steps through. Shreya frowns at the poster and sighs before following her inside.

_______________________

Notes: Here begins Act 3, and it seems like Fiora's got a ways to go to figure out this Combat Form business. Hmm...

_______________________

Next: Back in Session

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie

DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

[angelmichelangelo]

okay here we go. finale episode thoughts. i’m sorry for the person i have become...

the whole first half is just? incredible? loved the action, loved how well it was paced. it’s kickass time and i am HERE for it!

cool that they brought back that weird face morphing technology nat used in ca:tws - kinda always wondered why they never used that more but hello sharon good to see ur thriving

bucky on a motorcycle. that’s all.

SAM MOTHERFUCKIN’ WILSON he looks fine as hell, he’s killing it and that entrance was sick as FUCK. “i’m captain america” yes sir yes you are

the entire chopper scene and sam being smart af literally was so fun? like hell yes! AND REDWING!!! i love that bucky had to ask ayo to get shuri to make him a new one. it’s a boyfriend thing 🥰

sam kicking ass. bucky being cool. john walker..... being there i guess? not digging this weird redemption thing theyre doing with him by having him and bucky team up and be pals but like. we can’t always have what we want.

sharon being the powerbroker is kinda hot. criminal Mommy vibes i’m here for it. though she killed karli and i wanted to see more of her so. minus point babes.

SAM’S WHOLE CALLOUT SPEECH. baby fuck it UP!!! i’m so in love with this man it is unreal. anthony mackie knocked it out of the park with this whole scene. everything he said was amazing and he did it flawless. “i’m a black man carrying the stars and stripes, what don’t i understand?” was just. yeah. incredible. captain america is a black man and racist mfs are gonna cry about it lol I JUST LOVE SAM WILSON AND SAM WILSON ONLY !!! “do better” FUCK YEAH

bucky is so in love it’s embarrassing sir those heart eyes are unREAL dude. also him calling sam “cap” in the fondest voice ever with a lil back pat? i have my grave already dug imma go lay down in it now. eat my ass, steve rogers MWAH

zemo in prison having a gay old time. cant wait to see more of him yes please and thank you. also him going to sleep like my work here is done is just so? funny to me idk why like. yeah get some beauty sleep you fruity little bitch

us agent. hate john walker but love wyatt russell so absolutely looking forward to hate-loving this guy in the future

bucky and yori. remember that grave i laid down in earlier? yeah it’s full of my tears now. bucky healing and FINALLY saying outloud that what he did as the winter soldier was out of his control. i loved this whole scene though.... it felt like it had been cut short? which sucks eggs but it was good nonetheless. short n sweet. v nice. also love how bucky gave steve’s book away because he’s moving on !!!!!! yeah babey! though i still don’t trust dr raynor like who even was she lmao?

the entire scene with sam and isaiah... gotdamn. it was just beautiful. every scene isaiah is in, im just captivated. it was just *chefs kiss* and now my tear filled grave is overflowing and i am sailing down my own river of sadness. i know we’ll probably get eli in the young avengers but PLS give me young isaiah beating the shit out of the winter soldier in the korean war because holy fuck that’d be amazing. the smithsonian scene was beautiful. marvel i love to hate you but u okay for this one. u okay.

UNCLE BUCKY UNCLE BUCKY UNCLE BUCKY !!!! baby’s first cookout ☹️ he’s a wilson now, sam adopted him he’s a feral cat but we love him !! and then sam and bucky walking off into the sunset together? heart been broke so many times

not sure why they didn’t change both their names like captain america and the white wolf but either way i gasped when i saw it change from falcon to captain america !!! like fuck yeah !!!!!!

overall thoughts are: i loved this entire series. i am in need more sambucky in my life and knowing it’s gonna be well over a year before we get more of them in the mcu again i’m going to lock myself into a tiny cupboard and scream until i pass out. also i know a LOT of this show was cut because of the whole side plot about a deadly virus (thank u covid u son of a bitch) so like, i’d love at some point for those deleted scenes to be released. pls marvel i miss them already just give me the extra scenes !!