#y’all better keep knives away from me

[branwendaughterofllyr]

Branwen reads ASOIAF (again) - AGOT ARYA I

yeah, uh, it’s been a couple months. I spent that time FIGHTING for my life during the last semester since I’m in the final year of my degree and it’s only going to get worse from here. But I’m back and ready for GRRM to absolutely massacre me again. And it’s going to be a rough start, because I really don’t like this chapter and, believe it or not, I’ve already rewritten this summary at least once because I’m not trying to engage in ~the discourse~ too much. 

And listen, I like Arya a lot. She’s always somewhere in my top five. I like the whole justice versus revenge narrative she has going on. I like feral little girls with knives. There should be more of them!

But this chapter is not it, y’all. Now, I’ve read quite a lot of 90s fantasy with spunky tomboy heroines in my day, and this chapter is like middle tier at best. If I’m gong to read 90s fantasy with a spunky tomboy heroine, I’d much rather go for the crème de la crème like Song of the Lioness by Tamora Pierce or even The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley (which is actually 80s and the likely originator of a least a few spunky heroine tropes.) But I’ll freely admit that I’ve always been sensitive to men writing female characters who do a lot of hating on other women. Sue me. 

ANd I guess I’ve come around on this chapter some??? I think it’s a pretty good piece of character writing and unreliable narrators upon reflection, but I still don’t have to like it. 

So onto the chapter, I guess, though  @alaynasansa has already summarized this chapter better than I ever could

That’s it, that’s most of the chapter. 

But no seriously, Arya is a nine year old kid with a well-behaved older sister, who she resents for being well-behaved, and needs a lot of recess time to in order to pay attention in class. Give Arya scheduled run-around time, and I feel like half of the problems could be solved. 

We open on Arya having crooked stitches, yet again, while Sansa’s sewing her perfect.

“Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.”

Mordane, I’m begging, at least put the tiniest of effort in to not showing favoritism. We all know you’re Wenda the White Fawn and should not be anyone’s governess, but a shred of effort towards maintaining your cover. please!

Also, rip to all that Gentry foreshadowing struck down by the time skip being cut. You will be missed. 🫡

 Arya thought that Myrcella’s stitches looked a little crooked too, but you would never know it from the way Septa Mordane was cooing.

The Starklings need to stop dogpiling on Myrcella. She’s done nothing to you??? She has like two character traits, both of which contradict each other, and she’s an incest baby. She’s got enough on her plate. 

She studied her own work again, looking for some way to salvage it, then sighed and put down the needle.

I ask the same question every time. WTF have you done to your sewing, Arya? I’m assuming some comically big knot that would never exist in reality. 

And then we get EVUL Sansa talking with her fellow preteens.

Sansa was chatting away happily as she worked. Beth Cassel, Ser Rodrik’s little girl, was sitting by her feet, listening to every word she said, and Jeyne Poole was leaning over to whisper something in her ear.

Beth is, what, ten? And Jeyne is the same age as Sansa. Keep this in mind when GRRM decides to fridge both of them. (The wiki refers to them as Sansa’s “more glamorous retinue” and who ever wrote that needs to be shot.) 

So Arya wants to be included in the conversation, which fair enough, Arya. I, too, am a gossip hound. 

“We were talking about the prince,” Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little fat one. Naturally.

Now, now, Arya. Don’t go judging appearances, or you too will be almost raped at knife point. Also, people would (and do!) kill to sit next to Tommen instead of Joffrey, so. 

“Joffrey likes your sister,” Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell’s steward and Sansa’s dearest friend. 

It’s feeling sad about Jeyne hours.

 I choose to believe that Sansa and Jeyne have one of these:

“He’s going to marry her,” little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself.

This chapter is just making me sad. 

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment.

Peak sibling behavior. Your sibling is literally just sitting there, and you're like “they’re doing this to spite me specifically” and half the time, you're right. 

“Beth, you shouldn’t make up stories,” Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words.

I hope nothing happens to these sweet kids. 😬

“What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He’s very gallant, don’t you think?” “Jon says he looks like a girl,” Arya said. Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.”

Is she wrong? No, we all read Jon I. We saw the breakdown. Sansa just succinctly summarized one of Jon's core character conflicts in one sentence, and I have to laugh a little. More Jon and Joffrey foiling. (Actually this whole chapter is JoJo foiling, really.) 

“He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room. Septa Mordane raised her eyes. She had a bony face, sharp eyes, and a thin lipless mouth made for frowning. It was frowning now. “What are you talking about, children?”

Maybe Syrio’s greatest lesson was teaching Arya how to use her inside voice. 

“Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise.

EVUL Sansa. How dare you!!!!!! (Nevermind all the times the other Starklings call  Jon their half-brother, shhh, Sansa is the evil Catelyn 2.0)

She smiled for the septa. “Arya and I were remarking on how pleased we were to have the princess with us today,” she said.

Look how smoothly Sansa covers for Arya! 

One thing I’ve noticed about this chapter, is how chill Sansa really is to Arya. She’s just very relaxed and isn’t that interested in picking a fight with Arya. It’s such a contrast to their later AGOT chapters, when both of them are under immense amounts of stress. It seems that fist fights at the breakfast table is, in fact, not their default state. 

Septa Mordane nodded. “Indeed. A great honor for us all.” Princess Myrcella smiled uncertainly at the compliment.

Somebody help Myrcella. She has no clue what's going on. 

“Arya, why aren’t you at work?” the septa asked. She rose to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. “Let me see your stitches.” Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa’s attention.

Unreliable narrator Arya Stark. You were the one being loud three paragraphs ago. But love the commitment to blaming it on your sister, peak sibling behavior! (Is George an only child? He must have a sibling, he captures the dynamic so well). 

The septa examined the fabric. “Arya, Arya, Arya,” she said. “This will not do. This will not do at all.”

I am once again asking what Arya has done to her sewing. 

Everyone was looking at her. It was too much. Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sister’s disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf. Even Princess Myrcella looked sorry for her.

Yeah, being the negative center of attention can be rough. I get it. But also, love the assumption that Sansa would of course smile at Arya getting in trouble if it wasn't rude, when she was covering for Arya five seconds ago. I will not be commenting on Jeyne at this point in time. 

Arya felt tears filling her eyes. She pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door.

I am struck by how similar Jon and Arya are. Both them run out in tears in their first chapters. This is probably on purpose. 

Arya stopped at the door and turned back, biting her lip. The tears were running down her cheeks now. She managed a stiff little bow to Myrcella. “By your leave, my lady.” Myrcella blinked at her and looked to her ladies for guidance. 

Myrcella is literally just here. She’s only got brothers, she’s completely lost here. 

“Just where do you think you are going, Arya?” the septa demanded. Arya glared at her. “I have to go shoe a horse,” she said sweetly, taking a brief satisfaction in the shock on the septa’s face. Then she whirled and made her exit, running down the steps as fast as her feet would take her.

Arya Snark makes her first appearance. Rip that gendrya foreshadowing. 

I don’t know who’s more glad that Arya escaped that sewing lesson, me or her. 

It wasn’t fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left.

This is just what having an older sister is like. Most realistic thing George has ever written. This is peak realism. 

Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse.

The realism of the steward’s daughter name-calling the lord’s daughter aside (because, really? You don’t think Vayon is pulling Jeyne aside and nipping that in the bud?), Arya is usually covered in dirt and can mistaken for a stable boy and she loves riding horses, so I feel like this nickname might be for multiple reasons. 

Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward.

We’ll see about that, Arya! Sansa’s taking a summer class on how to run a castle in two books, and we’ll see what grade she gets. 

(But love the hyper nine-year old asserting that she could be a better household manager than the patient eleven-year-old. Never lose that confidence, Arya)

Nymeria was waiting for her in the guardroom at the base of the stairs. She bounded to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Arya. Arya grinned. The wolf pup loved her, even if no one else did. They went everywhere together, and Nymeria slept in her room, at the foot of her bed.

I am not immune to the cute prehistoric killing machine and it’s cute little paws. 

She had yellow eyes. When they caught the sunlight, they gleamed like two golden coins. Arya had named her after the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who had led her people across the narrow sea. That had been a great scandal too.

Somebody smarter than talk about Nymeria’s golden eyes. Doesn’t Lady also have golden eyes?

Also, love Arya’s naming choice. When I was ten, I named my cat Cleopatra. Very relatable. (But also, what's the scandal? Did the septa sniff when Arya announced it? Seems like a fine and very Arya name.) 

But a warrior queen and body of water. HMMMMM. The ship girl foreshadowing starts early.

Sansa, of course, had named her pup “Lady.”

Be still my heart. 😩

The boys were at practice in the yard. She wanted to see Robb put gallant Prince Joffrey flat on his back.

Have I mentioned how fond I am of Arya?

There was a window in the covered bridge between the armory and the Great Keep where you had a view of the whole yard. That was where they headed.

Another puzzle piece for the people meticulously reconstructing WF in Minecraft. Godspeed to them.

Jon is watching from the window, and Ghost and Nymeria have a cute moment that melts my frozen heart. 

To her disappointment, it was the younger boys drilling. Bran was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen, who was plump to begin with, seemed positively round. They were huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms, a great stout keg of a man with magnificent white cheek whiskers.

I know that this moments gets a ton of callbacks, being a big moment of King Bran and dead Tommen foreshadowing, but look at the bundled-up seven year olds! SO cute! 

“A shade more exhausting than needlework,” Jon observed. “A shade more fun than needlework,” Arya gave back at him.

I mean- we all know where this is going. 

Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

I am not immune to Jon and Arya being adorable together. 

Little Arya is afraid of being a bastard because she sees how Jon is treated, so she goes to him, and Jon puts all of problems to one side to comfort his little sister. Argh, my heart. 

“Why aren’t you down in the yard?” Arya asked him. He gave her a half smile. “Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes,” he said. “Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords.”

It’s- It’s irony. Becuase- because the Baratheon kids are bastards, and Jon is a prince. 

(Is Jon actually a bastard, or is he true born through some horrible shenanigans? Let’s keep a running list.)

“Oh.” Arya felt abashed. She should have realized. For the second time today, Arya reflected that life was not fair.

I feel like this speaks for itself mainly. All of Jon’s siblings can be thoughtless when it comes to Jon’s situation. 

She watched her little brother whack at Tommen. “I could do just as good as Bran,” she said. “He’s only seven. I’m nine.”

The sibling age hierarchy is so very real. 

Jon looked her over with all his fourteen-year-old wisdom.

This will never not be funny to me.

“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.” “The woman is important too!” Arya protested.

Get em, Arya! 

“Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister. Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.” “A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh.

I- I can’t. What do you want me to do with this??? Because my mind is in fact a gutter. Someone put me out of my misery. 

“Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms.

This feel significant on multiple levels. The way that daughters and bastard sons are permanently slotted below true born sons in the Westerosi patriarchy. The way that a bastard son and true born daughter could consolidate their claims together to make a stronger one. Something something. 

Prince Tommen was rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing. All the padding made him look like a turtle on its back. Bran was standing over him with upraised wooden sword, ready to whack him again once he regained his feet.

Yeah, Tommen’s pretty toast. There can be only one apparently, and its going t be Bran. 

Ser Rodrik has got to one of my favorite silly old men, with his silly little beard. 

And then we get the Joffrey-Robb conflict foreshadowing that feels like they were actually supposed to have a more personal showdown but it got dropped.

Arya could see Robb bristle. His pride was wounded. He turned on Ser Rodrik. “Let me do it. I can beat him.” “Beat him with a tourney blade, then,” Ser Rodrik said. Joffrey shrugged. “Come and see me when you’re older, Stark. If you’re not too old.” There was laughter from the Lannister men.

Is this or is this not fulfilled by the war of the Five Kings? You decide, I guess. 

The Hound is terrible, Joffrey is terrible, Theon has to hold Robb back from committing some serious treason, Jon has a cryptic description. 

Jon watched them leave, and Arya watched Jon. His face had grown as still as the pool at the heart of the godswood.

Huh. Always interesting to see how Jon is identified with WF early on. 

“You had best run back to your room, little sister. Septa Mordane will surely be lurking. The longer you hide, the sterner the penance. You’ll be sewing all through winter. When the spring thaw comes, they will find your body with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers.”

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, JON. DO not foreshadow your little sister like that. Now she’s definitely losing her fingers, if not her hand. You’re worst than Ned, I swear. 

The chapter ends with a funny haha sitcom moment that does not make me want to gouge my eyes out at all.

It was worse than Jon had thought. It wasn’t Septa Mordane waiting in her room. It was Septa Mordane and her mother.

I’m laughing so hard, guys.

Conclusion: Uh. Arya is peak sibling behavior in every way, Sansa is actually very chill when her spirit animal hasn’t been killed, the Bran and Tommen see saw is real, and Jon is a great big brother when he’s not foreshadowing. 

And no women wins under patriarchy?

Who’s next? Bran? Thank god!

[huffle-dork]

Switch Swap Crossover (Swapboys AU/Switch AU)

AN: Hello all! You know how much I adore @crystalninjaphoenix ‘s aus- especially Switch! And since they did a crossover for Inverted and Swap- I thought it was my turn to do a crossover! And it’s also their birthday present! Happy birthday Cry! Expect more in the future cuz I got ideas >:3c hope y’all enjoy!

Read Switch | Read Swapboys | Read Cry’s Crossover Series

Chapter 1: Here we go Again?

The room was spinning even with his eyes closed. Ringing was so loud in his ears it made everything spin twice as fast. He felt weak and spent and- was he laying on the floor? Sure felt like it.

Jameson Jackson groaned as the world came back to him with a painful jolt. Taking a pained gasp in- the world came back into full color and noise in an explosion of the senses. He felt panic gripping his heart as he tried to remember how he got here.

They were in the Aspen Street House- facing off with Distorter. He had gotten Marvin again… but Jackie had just managed to pull him out of it. The gentleman was seriously losing blood from his eyes and he was weak from the influence. Meanwhile- Anti and Volt weren’t letting the fucker go anywhere without a fight. Jameson too… and this time he brought help. A magic amplifying stone from Aoife- though neither of them were quite sure what it was meant to do. But, now seemed as good a time as any.

He has channeled his magic into the stone, ready to send out a blast towards Distorter. But then… the walls of the house started to glow and hum with power. The air started to swell with magic- pressure settling down on everyone. Then, each of the people present in the house started to glow like the walls.

“Jackson, what did you do?!” Anti tries to call out, sounding alarmed.

But that was the last thing JJ heard before everything went completely blue.

Now… all he can see is blue again. But- it’s more blue-green… buzzing with electricity. And… glitching? It sounded like a computer.

Speaking of sounds- he can hear familiar shouting to his left.

“Oh you fuckers just wait! I got several knives with your names on them!” Anti was spitting.

Volt was trying to keep his voice level and quiet- but he had that hero tone in his voice. “Anti- stand down… we do not know-“

“You keep threatening us and the shield ain’t going anywhere, bitch!” A new voice called out- sounding raked with the same glitches that buzzed around the magic in air.

Jj pulled himself up right and tried to focus. Through the blue-green magic- it looks like they are in… an office? Or a very corporate looking loft space at the very least. a huge L shaped couch was taking up most of the space. There’s what sounds like a TV behind them, playing parts of a movie. Popcorn is littered on the ground in front of them.

But most importantly- there’s a group of men standing right outside the shield.

The most prominent one is whoever is making the magic it seems. He seems- younger almost. Scrawny build that’s hidden behind clothes that are too big for him. A bandana with a stitched smiley face sits around his neck. He has his hand outstretched to keep the magic going but he himself seems to be glitching too. But… most striking of all…

He looks exactly like Anti. Well… minus the freckles and completely brown hair.

Jameson looks at his companion to his side- where he heard his voice and balks at seeing Anti here in the shield with him… then- who the hell?

The boy with the magic is looking more enraged by the second, but- his eyes give away fear.

“I-I ain’t fucking around so- you guys better tell us who the fuck you are and why you’re here or-!”

“Or what? You gotta throw more shields at us?” Anti snarks, crossing his arms. “Oh yeah I’m soooo scared! Face me like a real man, motherfucker- I’ll even give you a knife to borrow so it’s fair!”

“F-Friends, please! There is no need for violences!” A thick German accented voice calls out. But… that’s not Volt- the hero would never sound so meek and unsure.

And sure enough, Volt is here in the bubble, trying to hold Anti back from attacking the shield.

But- back on the other side… Jameson can see the call came from a tall tealed-haired gentleman in a bright blue suit. He- has the same vibe as Marvin… but he looks exactly like Schneep.

What was going on?

“I’m with Hen you guys- I do not need more blood on this carpet- you and Bro already drive my cleaning bill through the roof, Alt.” Another voice joins in. Jameson looks and jumps- seeing it’s the spitting image of Jackie! But- boy this one looks even more tired then the doctor… and a lot more casual- wearing a red hoodie with the YouTube logo on it and no glasses. Superhero parkour… what was that?

Jameson looks around and can’t help but jump again as he sees the actual Jackie- Dr. Parker- quietly taking all this in to his right. The doctor waves slightly at Jameson with a tight smile before looking back at the chaos.

The magician- Alt, if Jameson had to guess, blushed at the other Jackie’s remark. “S-Shut up! Fuck, where is he anyways?”

There’s a quiet cough to announce someone new. Alt glances their way-

“He was in the bathroom before this began I believe…” Came a signed reply.

Jameson’s stomach dropped as he looked towards the signing hands and- stared back at himself. But- this guy was… more put together in a sense. He was smartly dressed- like a therapist almost. He had round glasses and a kind face- and even though he looked extremely tired, was unusually calm despite all of this.

Jameson’s head spun… what was going on?? He gripped at his hair.

Volt and Anti looked towards the movement. Volt seemed to relax slightly, “Oh good you’re okay…”

“Jackson! Show this bitch real fucking magic!” Anti hissed, still glaring down his doppelgänger. “He looks like one good blast can knock him over!”

Alt grits his teeth, his hair flying up in an unseen wind as his eyes light up brighter. “I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you, imposter.”

“You’re the fucking imposter!” Anti snapped, fighting against Volt again. Volt gritted his teeth and tried to keep the programmer back.

“Anti- ver damnit! Take a second to calm down!”

The magic in the shield sputters as the kid suddenly and physically glitches- the image of him almost splitting apart before snapping back together. He looks pale.

“W-What did you just call him?” He seems to whisper in dawning horror.

Volt is slow to respond, “Anti… that is his name.”

“Y-You’re lying-“

Anti grits his teeth, “that’s my fucking name, asshole! What’s it to you?! You got a problem with that?”

Alt’s magic increases- the air tasting like metal as he glitches more.

“T-That can’t be your name- that’s my name!” The boy shouts, hand shaking.

Jameson’s eyes widen- and he sees Anti and Volt’s do the same. It’d be something else entirely if they had a more common name… but they both go by Anti- and look almost identical.

Anti frowns, “didn’t that guy just call you Alt-“

The magic suddenly shrinks around them, the air getting darker and more swamped with glitches.

“S-Shut up! All of you shut up!!” Alt screeches, looking more and more unhinged. “N-None of you are going anywhere-!”

“Y-You can’t just keep us here!” Dr. Parker finally speaks, “in fact- you- you have to let us out. One of our friends is missing and he’s injured!”

Jameson’s stomach drops. Oh god…

Where was Marvin?

The other Jackie braved through some of the chaotic magic to get to Alt’s side and puts a hand on his shoulder. “A-Alt! I know what this looks like- but please- you gotta calm down! We have no idea if it’s like last time!”

“I don’t want to take any fucking chances-“ Alt barked, eyes alive with sparking electrcity. “I won’t be tricked- not again!”

“Alt please- we should be giving them the benefit of the doubt, yes?” The teal haired gentleman offered.

Alt grit his teeth, “that’s what happened last time- and I’m not putting any of us through that again!”

He looked really really scared under all that rage.

Jameson looked towards the sparking magic of the shield. He presses light fingers to the surface. Despite its pulsing chaotic nature- it actually felt quite fragile. It was not magically sound. An unpracticed display hardly kept together by its own chaotic nature. Jameson carefully came forward- then pushed his own magic against the barrier.

The shield shattered like glass in an instant. But before all hell broke loose, Jameson got to his feet and sent out a blast of cold air to stop everyone in their tracks and get their attention. He coughed then signed.

“First, let’s even the playing field, shall we?”

Tensions rose- especially between the two Antis as both parties tried to keep them from going at each other.

One figure though seemed absolutely delighted by Jameson’s statement.

The tealed-haired gentleman sprung forward, his eyes aglow with what can only be described as childhood wonder. “Mein gott! You also know sign!”

He quickly signed to Jameson, effectively putting himself between the feud but- calming it somehow. Probably because he seemed to have no malicious intent.

“Hello, new friend! My name is Henrik von Schneeplestein! It is nice to meet you! I very much like your mask!”

Jameson gasps and hears another one join him. He looks to Volt- who seems to have paled. He looks to Jamie and mouths, “Did I read that correctly?” Jameson gives him a hesitant nod.

Volt coughs then points to himself. “Ah…I… I should probably not give out my identity but… given the circumstances… I am also Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

The other Henrik gasps, “Another Henrik? Oh it is so rare to meet others!” The gentleman seems to study his face for a second, “… you have an accent- it is also German?”

Volt seems to stiffen slightly, and looks a bit confused. “Ja?” He replies shortly.

The other Jameson steps up and clears his throat, placing his hand on the other Henrik’s shoulder before starting to sign too. “Please excuse my friend if he seemed rude. He’s hard of hearing- he’s gotten better with his hearing aid but- these things often escape him.”

The kindly man then looks and meets eyes with Jameson again, and smiles.

“I’m assuming… you also go by Jameson? Jameson Jackson?”

Jj slowly nods, then smiles and goes to bow slightly with his cape. “Unless I’m on stage- then it’s the Jaunty Jackson!”

The other jameson laughs quietly and nods with a smile. “A fine stage name! If that’s the case- you all can refer to me as Dr.J.”

“Are we really just- introducing ourselves right now?!” Anti growls, but Volt just keeps him in his arms, studying the groups with a calculating eye.

His Jackie stands up- and makes eye contact with the other one holding back Alt.

“Are you… also Jackie then? Jackie Parker?”

The other Jackie blinks then shakes his head with a smile, “Jackie Mann. Close though!” As he says this- The doctor can see the flash of something gold on his finger- similar to a matching band on his own hand.

“You’re married- does your partner… call you Jackieboy?”

The other Jackie’s eyes widen, “w-whoa- how did you-?”

“My partner does too.” The doctor smiles.

“That’s also the nickname of my YouTube persona- thanks to my wife.” Jackie Mann grins with a laugh, looking proud.

Then- suddenly there’s a snap like a power cable is cut and Alt glitches out of Jackie’s grip and in front of Jameson.

“Okay enough! This ain’t just a casual-meet-up-feel-good-time! I need fucking answers!”

Alt grabs Jameson by his collar and drags him forward. “Who are you people? And why are you here? Are you here to fuck with our minds? Kill us and replace us?”

Jameson quickly shakes his head and waves his hands before signing. “We want to do no such thing, I promise! We- we have no idea how we got here! I just used something new with my magic and- next thing we know I woke up here! That’s all!”

Anti cried out and tried to charge at Alt and Volt was having a hard time keeping him back down, “f-fucking bitch! Let him go!”

And Alt did- almost instantly. But he still glitched back and eyed the others down with a skeptic eye.

“…how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Maybe cuz this is all fucking insane? Why would we lie about something like this?” Anti spit.

Alt glares at Anti then sighs, looking behind them. “…I want Bro’s opinion- where the fuck is he?”

Bro Fantastic was stuck in a nightmare. A horrible nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from.

And the nightmare was staring back at him- an unshakable grin on its face as it approached Chase. Tilting its head like a curious animal.

“Well… isn’t this interesting?” The monster laughed, blood dripping down its face. Chase felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“What… are you?” Chase whispered, shakily trying to find something to hold- he couldn’t feel his knees.

Because… even though his mind was starting to fuzz over with gray and it was hard to concentrate…

He knew his own face- especially when it was staring right back at him.

“Mmm scared to speak the truth out loud, Chaser?” The bleeding copy giggled, getting up in Chase’s face, dripping blood on his shirt.

“N-No! Stop it!” Bro shouted, scrambling backwards- he didn’t wanna touch this thing.

The monstrous doppelgänger laughed cruelly, “Wowww! Who’d have thought you’d be such a coward? Kinda pathetic really? What? you scared of me~?” He stepped up and then cracked his neck loudly, tilting it at an unnatural angle. And that’s when Chase can see the blood cascading down the side of his head.

“I-I’m not scared!” Bro tries to argue, but his shaking hands are giving him away. He- he can’t even summon his powers- the edges of his vision are graying out, the room around him looking fuzzy. Ringing is overtaking his ears.

“There’s no reason to be scared…” The copy cooed out in a suddenly calm and smooth voice. He got close to Bro again and the hero was running out of places to run. “In fact… I think the two of us could be great friends.”

The gray figure shot out its hand and grabbed Chase’s neck, pulling him close. Were his nails always so sharp? Chase tries to pull away as the gray takes over more and more of his vision.

“I think… we could get to know each other real well~” the creature whispered, its impossibly wide grin getting even wider.

Chase’s blood was pounding in his ears. He felt something heavy in his hands. Something he never ever tries to use.

The gun feels wrong- yet he finds himself gripping it tighter.

The figure is no longer in front of him- and now Chase is facing the mirror. He meets his reflection’s wide gray eyes, streams of blood falling from them. His hand shakingly starts to rise. The cool feeling of metal hits the side of his head before he even registers the sight of it in the mirror. His hands are trembling and he’s hyperventilating- yet his reflection stares at him stoically. Then- its eyes turn black and the reflection grins wide as it whispers. “Do it.”

The sound of a gunshot goes off.

And then- Chase opens his eyes with a cry, springing back and hitting his head against the bathroom wall. He pants, quickly feeling his head and- oh god oh god did he just-?!

But… there’s no blood there. There’s- no sign that anything he just saw was real… he swallows shakily and then goes to splash water on his face.

What the fuck was that? He… can’t get that creature’s face out of his mind…

He hears the commotion outside and shakes it off- quickly rushing back out towards his friends.

And his reflection watches him go, grinning ear to ear.

Bro bursts into the room, looking pale like he’s seen a ghost. He’s panting like he just ran a marathon.

“Woah Chase! Are you okay?” Jackie calls out, going to put a hand on Bro’s shoulder. The hero shakes himself out and nods.

“Y-Yeah fine…” He takes in that there’s double the people in here now- all looking at him. He blinks and then looks back at the room he just came from. “…Jesus, how long was I in there?”

“Too long man, what the hell were you doing?” Alt growls.

Bro rubs the back of his head. “Uh… well you know-“

Alt pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “okay let’s just- catch you up…”

He points at the others and explains, “We got doppelgängers again- another Anti- a Schneep, a Jj and a Jackie.” Alt points to each respective person and they all react in kind, either waving or just acknowledging the hero.

Bro blinks, “well- hi there! Uhh welcome? I’m Bro Fantastic- but… you guys can call me Chase.”

Alt elbows Chase and gives him a ‘wtf’ look. Chase blinks and gives Alt a confused look back.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Introducing myself?”

“And giving away your name to complete strangers?”

“…who are clearly your guys’ doppelgängers-“

“Yeah! They could be evil like those last guys!”

Chase looks at the relatively calm group of guys- except the goth looking one. He’s kinda scary but- doesn’t look evil.

“…I don’t think they are Alt-“

“I thought the same thing last time and they fucked with my mind, remember?!” Alt explains in exasperation.

“Only cuz you were too stubborn to listen to the first person who actually wanted to help you.” Chase retorted, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow down at Alt. Alt sputters and then turns away, his face bright red. He quickly hides it under his mask.

Bro looks at the others with an apologetic smile, “Sorry about my brother. He’s… a bit paranoid about these things.”

The others look at their Anti with wide eyes. Anti shakes his head. “D-Don’t look at me! I don’t have a brother!”

Jj looks back at the hero and signs, “I’m guessing this isn’t the first time something like this has happened?”

Bro laughs, “It’s never happened in our town no… but we’ve been in a similar situation.”

Jackie sighed and crossed his arms, “Still not sure how it happened but- we blinked and suddenly we were in another city where there was like… inverted versions of us. All of them were fuckers- except that Anti dude. He was chill.”

Alt mutters from under his mask, “My… former boss is also obsessed with the concept of the ‘multiverse’. Guess it was only a matter of time until something freaky like this happened…”

Volt knits his eyebrows together in confusion, “I guess it is not impossible… but very improbable.”

“Not if there’s magic involved!” Jameson adds with a smile. But then- his smile falls. Magic-

“Wait, we still need to figure out where Marvin is! He was hurt, wasn’t he?”

Dr. Jackie nodded, looking anxious as he adjusted his glasses. “Yeah he was delirious and losing blood from Distorter’s control…”

“Dis…tor-ter?” The other Henrik asked, sounding out the word carefully, having trouble reading the doctor’s lips, “Who is that?”

“This mother fucking… thing that’s been tormenting us for god knows how long-“ Anti muttered. “A fucking gray and bleeding eyed motherfucker- who messes with your head and makes you see things.”

Bro paled, feeling a chill run up his spine. Just like… what he saw in the bathroom, right? Why was it suddenly so hard to remember it exactly? All except… that face.

“I’m sorry-“ Jackie’s voice breaks Chase out of his thoughts, “Did you guys say your friend’s name was Marvin?”

Jameson nods.

Jackie bites his lip and looks around, “oh boy… okay so- if you all ended up here in front of us… and… Chase- nobody just appeared next to you did they?”

“N-No!” Chase blurts out- probably too fast. His ears turn pink. “I… I didn’t see anyone no-“

“Huh… strange- guess their universe doesn’t have a Chase…”

“But anyways- if that’s the case… I think your Marvin might be… with ours.”

“And…why do you sound so nervous about that?” Jameson asks with hesitation.

Jackie and Alt exchange looks before Alt explains slowly.

“Let’s just say… Magnificent isn’t the best bitch to be stuck with. If this Distorter guy is the one who tortures you guys… then ours would be him. Ours is Magnificent.”

———

Marvin goes flying across the warehouse floor, tumbling and skidding against the concrete like roadkill. He coughs and tries to struggle up- god… where was his cane?

The bitch that threw him loomed over him and laughed wildly, multicolored static flickering behind him in a burst of power.

“Pathetic! Are you truly my counterpart? I would have expected another me to have more fight in him!”

Marvin spit out blood and wiped at his face, trying to catch his breath.

“Yer not really givin’ me a chance to, are ya?” He growls, shakily trying to get to his feet.

The mad magician scoffs, looking his copy up and down with distaste plain on his face. Like he was looking at a bug or gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“I could tell by just looking at you. You’re not even worth my time… not an ounce of magic in you.” He sighs dramatically and throws out his hands, turning from the other and flaring out his cape. “The universe is a cruel mistress! Finally, she brings me something I’ve been searching for- but it falls just short!”

Marvin laughs as he holds himself up against the wall, “Maybe if ya played nicer, the universe would have rewarded ya. Sounds like you just decided to be a bitch t’ough-“

The magician sighs and shakes his head. He turns a glowing eye to look back at the pathetic copy. Then, he teleports so he’s right in front of him and grabs him by the lapel before slamming him back against the wall. Marvin cries out and tries to struggle. The magician’s gaze makes him feel like a cornered creature being studied for science.

“You’d be useless as a puppet to me…” The mad man muses, lifting up Marvin’s chin and twisting it with his claws. “I can feel someone has already laid claim to your mind anyways… too messy to destroy right now.”

His cat-like eyes spark with mischief and he grins, showing sharp canines. “However… you might make a fine addition to my… feline collection~”

“T-the hell I won’t! I ain’t bein’ a part of anyone's collection! And I already have a cat, t’ank you very much!” Marvin protests, fighting in the magician’s grip even harder.

The magician laughs and forces Marvin to look up at him. Then, he snaps and a spiral of purple and green appears in front of Marvin’s eyes. The gentleman’s breath hitches, his body trying to tense up. But it just as easily starts to fall limp, hands slipping off the magician’s and falling to his side. His head falls back against the wall behind him, lips parting to exhale softly as his eyes fall to half mast.

The magician giggles softly before cooing to Marvin, “Very good, pet. Just let it take you… down… down… down…no more pesky thoughts, Hm? There’s no need for any more of those… human thoughts just get in the way… wouldn’t you agree?”

Marvin finds himself numbly nodding.

The magician grins, madness alight in those spiraling eyes. “Mmm yes… much too messy. Too easy for someone else to grab… I’m going to make your life so much better, Marvin… as my pet, you’ll be free. Free from this weak body of yours… free from the limitations put on you. You’ll even have two more good legs! Now… doesn’t that sound nice?”

Marvin finds himself slurring out a sloppy, “yes…”, eyelids fluttering.

The mad man chuckles. “Use your words, kitten, and ask properly. My name should already be on your tongue…

Let your last spoken words sing my praises. Tell me this is what you want, puppet~ Would you like to live out the rest of your days as my simple little kitty pet?”

Marvin’s mind is completely blank. His eyes start to shift to something slitted- something purely feline. It’s hard to get his lips to move- words already seem so hard and unnecessary.

“Yessss Magnificenttt…” Marvin purrs, eyes nearly shut as a blissful smile curls on his lips.

Magnificent grins, “Excellent kitten… let’s get your body to match your mind now, shall we?”

The mad magician then pumps Marvin’s body full of magic. Marvin screams- bones cracking and being rearranged by the burning heat of the magic. It feels agonizing- like being compressed into a tight space.

If Marvin could think- he’d probably be terrified. But, luckily, only his body reacted to the pain. His mind was blank still, untouched.

The transformation ends and out of the sparking magic- is a large brown and cream Norwegian forest cat. It’s soft blue eyes blink up at its master and it meows softly, before going to lick its paw.

Magnificent tsks, “Damnit. Too much personality left in tact. Well… they’re not all winners at the start.” He sighs. He then scoops up the cat and starts to pet it kindly. The cat stares out, as if trying to process something- trying to fire off some kind of thought in its head. But- Magnificent’s soft pets seem to drive off those thoughts and it starts to purr, slumping in his arms.

“Trying to get those human thoughts back, Hm? A valiant effort I’ll say~” Magnificent hummed in amusement. It was always so fun to see them attempt to struggle. “Worry not, kitten… I’ll get you trained… and we’ll get you into a proper appearance in no time~ just like my other lovely pets!”

The madman looks behind him and grins at the dozens of obedient green eyes that grin back at him from the dark.

He then looks back at the cat in his arms and thinks out loud, “or perhaps… keeping you like this could be like a trophy of sorts… like how I planned to keep my cub.” He hummed, the feeling of defeat still stark in his mouth. But- that feeling did remind him.

“Oh yes! Before we do anything more… we must get rid of that awful name of yours. In fact… I’ll be glad to never hear that name again-“ Magnificent growls. He snaps his fingers- and creates another spiral in front of the kitten that instantly captures its attention. It sits up straight, slitted eyes transfixed on the magic, mind completely blanking again.

“Now then… what shall your new name be…?”

“Marvin!” A voice suddenly shouted.

Magnificent turns around to growl, eyes bright with magic. “Who dares to-?!”

A bullet rips through the magician’s shoulder, throwing him back and knocking the cat out of his grasp. The kitten skips like a rock before stilling, staring out blankly. Then- light seems to come back to its eyes. Human light. It quickly gets back to its feet and shakes itself off. That’s… when he starts to panic- taking in his paws and smaller appearance. He starts to turn around in disbelief, yowling in distress. He doesn’t fully step down on his back leg though.

Anti steps into the warehouse and glares at Magnificent, keeping his gun aimed at the magician. “Alright freakshow- where the fuck is our friend?!”

Magnificent clutches at his shot shoulder- the air around him bending and shifting like hot summer air. He laughs, sounding unhinged. “Haha! A new face in my lair… how amusing!” He studies Anti and then teleports in front of him, eyes sparking with intrigue. “But… somehow still a familiar face… you look just like my favorite cub, puppet.”

Anti’s aim falters as he scrambles back, resting his hand at the butt of the gun to keep it steady. “B-Back off! We just want our friend back then we’ll be out of your freaky hair!”

“Is that all?” Magnificent chuckles with amusement. “You’ve come a long way from home… why don’t you stick with me and I’ll make you all feel so welcomed! …just like I did with Marvin~”

“I fucking knew it! Where is he, cocksucker? What did you do to him?!”

Magnificent's eyes flashed dangerously, “The same thing I’m about to do to you.”

He shoots out a hand towards Anti- purple and green electricity heading straight for him.

When suddenly, a shield shoots up and blocks the magic, chipping like it’s made of ice.

The newcomer, Jameson, looks to Anti and gestures to where that cat is still freaking out. Anti gives Jameson a look. Jameson rolls his eyes and signs something quick to Anti. Finally, the other boy seems to nod- but he looks super weirded out by the whole situation.

Magnificent’s eyes light up hungrily at the sight of the new magician. He grins, approaching the barrier with practiced grace, his walk like that of an actor on stage.

“A fresh magician too! Mayhaps the universe has decided to be kind to me after all!” He laughs.

Jameson glares at the other magician with burning blue eyes.

“Ohhh the silent type…” Magnificent observes with a crooked smile. “How rare that is in these parts…”

He teleports behind Jameson- then pushes the other magician up against the icy shield, grinning like a predator over him.

“What refined magic you have!” Magnificent giggles with glee, “What a marvel it is to see such… careful practice put back into magic~” The mad man leans in, hungry for just a taste of this boy’s magic- his fingers light up with purple.

Jameson quickly shoves a hand in Magnificent’s face and sends a blast of ice at him. A thick chunk freezes with Mag’s head inside. He yells in rage and tries to claw it off- he can’t see!

“Now!” Jameson yells hoarsely, pushing away from the magician and running towards the exit, “Run!!”

Anti uses the mad magician’s confusion to scoop up the cat and rushes towards the door after Jameson.

“I hope you’re right about this, Jackson! Or this will be real awkward to patch up later!”

The last thing they hear before reaching the others is the sound of Magnificent’s wild cry of rage.

Magnificent breaks off the ice and slams his fist into the wall, cursing in Latin. But, soon he takes a deep breath and calms down. That magician…

Oh it’s gonna be so fun to make him his.

[To be Continued~]

[daegulinekush]

The death of peace fo mind

~ a Kim Taehyugn Fanfiction

Chapter two: ★ It scares me sometimes. the emptiness I see in my own eyes ★

Contains: trauma, we getting OC backstory, minor character death, mentions of bullying, generally sad and angsty chapter

The pounding of my head is something I can’t get over. It feels like my head is split in two, like all of the regrets in my life are coming back to me to entirely shatter my brain, breaking the chains I so forcefully put on them, just to grasp at me with their sharp as knives claws, shadow like demons, with no clear nor touchable form, yet oh so real that they make blood come to the surface with just a mere brush of their claws.

I always hated getting drunk. After the adrenaline seeps away from the veins and the euphory of never-ending laughter leaves my body, there is nothing but my joke of a soul left behind, trimmed to shreds of the person I could have been if things were to be different.

It’s morbid, really, the place my mind can become. I don’t like the way self-pity tends to swallow me, the way heavy clouds are pulled as thick curtains over me and burn my lungs as I try to breathe.

Life is a joke and it should be treated as such: light-hearted and fun. The moment should be lived to the max and, above it all, taking life too seriously will always lead to suddenly realizing we have just one life and we’ve been wasting each breath with worries instead of taking things as they are. Life passes and worrying about everything has never been benefic. Regrets are useless as you can’t change the past.

Yet, in moments like these, I can’t help but mourn the person I could have been. Would I have been better? Would I be less snappy, would my life lack so many hardships if she was there?

The ache and emptiness in my chest feel way too common, too known. A deeply etched wound, one that refuses to close, to heal, one that will always keep a part of me hollow, empty. It is inevitable, a constant mourning I can merely push at the back of my head and ignore. One that will never truly stop, not until my last breath, maybe not even after that.

Ah, the way my head feels like it’s gonna split in two.

With a heavy breath and aching eyes from the very back of my head, I rub at my face, vaguely surprised to remark no remains of my makeup from yesterday on my palms. Tae probably cleaned my face after I basically blacked out from tiredness. It makes warmth and fondness bloom in my heart inevitably, always so tender, always so careful. He’s truly the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Reaching for my phone, the light up of the screen makes the pain in my eyeballs even harsher, forcing me to blink owlishly. The text from him is what makes me stubbornly focus on my screen.

“Taebear: Good morning, bestie <3 I’m at Chim’s. Bet your head is pounding. I truly should stop both of your stubborn asses from drinking together ever again. Y’all never know when to stop”

It leaves a faint smile on my lips inevitably. He’s truly the best thing to have ever happened to me. He’s been there for me when not even I could be there for myself, believed in me when I couldn’t see even one good thing in myself.

It brings memories back, forces them to seep through the too-thin barriers I forcefully raised, my brain too tired, wires too entangled to be able to push them back. The kind of memories that make your eyes sting, the type of memories nobody should have.

It feels so heavy, the press and burn of my lungs, the way I can still feel the metallic scent of blood, so unfit for the one of camellias she wore, as if I was still there, as if years have not passed at all, as if I remained a mere not even 14 years old all over again.

Closing my eyes on instinct makes it even worse.

In moments like these, with new starts, it truly feels inevitable to not wonder, to not live again that moment when my life changed irremediably.

Most of my memories are blurry while also having moments of concerning clarity.

There had been too much going on. I was barely starting my rebellious phase, the one every teenager should have the luxury of, one so important for simply discovering yourself as a person.

My mom had never been the type to keep a tight grasp on me. She was just like me while also being so different, with her small smile that feels so blurred at the corners of my memories, with the warmth she always carried, with the harsh lines over her face when she frowned, somehow her eyes so tired, the worries so deeply etched onto her features.

I was just 13, almost 14. I needed her more than I could have ever anticipated, needed her safety, needed the ridiculous fights every teenage girl should have with her parents.

Life had never been easy but maybe I was too stubborn to truly understand her words, just to later hang on so heavily onto each and every one of them, wishing for more, wishing the times when she would scold me could be there again, wishing for things that are impossible, like being able to remember her better.

It’s getting close to that time of the year again. The time when leaves fall, the time when green turns into yellow and burning dark brown. With time passing, inevitably the wound forces its ugly roots to pump poison into me all over again, forces me to grieve all over again, forces me back to that clueless and scared 13-year-old.

I can still hear my distorted screams, somewhat clogged, the images of my memory carrying blurred edges and even more blurred little spots along my vision.

I can feel and see it just the way I’ve lived through it.

The way her trembling hands gripped onto the counter of the kitchen, her back for the first time in my whole life not being straight shoulders and intimidatingly perfect control, but a weak hunch, bowed and looking more like a fragile leaf than the woman who has raised me with such strong beliefs. The one who's been the very example of how I wished to be, even if right now I know I can't hold a mere candle to her, the one who somehow in all of the chaos that was our lives made it home and safe and the best I could have asked for.

It's heartbreaking, truly. The way I have so many memories of her, so much warmth to remember, yet my heart becomes hollow just thinking of her, the memory that pops in my mind when I think of her is the warm feeling of blood and her body becoming cold, it's the way her eyes became more and more unfocused without becoming glassy and the whisper of "I'm proud of you", words I will forever cherish, but will probably never be able to agree with.

In all of the chaos of a father who wasn't a dad and not just gave up on both me and her, but also forced her to make a home out of chaos for the both of us, made us run and hide, unwilling to even admit to his mistakes and instead trying so hard to get rid of every evidence that could point to the obvious.

An unwanted child. This is what I was for him and not even that. I was a problem, the fact that I was the only person carrying his cursed DNA.

Yet, I was kept so tightly in the grip of her, a woman better than I could ever be, even if she herself raised me, more or less struggling, more or less alone.

The only thing I know is that it could be worse. That on that day, four years ago, I could have had a worse fate, one less mercyful, one that would have made the mistake of my genes my supposed legal guardian and not guard me against anything but leave just a shell behind, one that wouldn't have lasted long before rotting and turning to ashes.

The police station is the thing I remember in a blur after calling the emergency number desperately, refusing to believe the obvious that had not been obvious at all until it was too late and it hit me in full force.

The worst day of my life, the reason for most of my nightmares. One that I remember just in uglily cut parts, like a bad old movie I wasn't somehow part of, not in the true sense. A tragedy with no meaning, lower than any character changing, a mere filler put there to fill an episode for more money in the pockets without any regard for how it will affect.

The thing about being at the police station while in shock is that you have selective hearing. Or so I wish to call it. The automatic responses to the questions, the narration but yet not enough settled memories to process them, the refusal, the unbelief of what has happened. I refused to believe it that night.

Someone normal might have cried, maybe. This is how people show their sadness, their anger, their deepest emotions. And yet, I was empty. I couldn't feel anything or I felt so much to the point I became numb.

I remember being cold, I remember it being late November, I remember voices blending in the background and questions flying above my head as soon as I responded. I couldn't process anything.

I remember the way the place felt so much like a hospital or any other institution associated with such pain and loss, loss of yourself even, of your time, your mental health, your very soul sucked from you, the hallways endless, the floors as clean and as dirty as any other place of such, the walls so light they make your eyes burn and wish they’d rather kill themselves. It’s just something sickening about those common yet so rare places, something that simply screams at you to get out while feeling timeless. Maybe this is exactly the reason one feels like being driven insane by them. Or, at least, I did.

Then, somehow, a little bit of emotion, of mercy came in a form I didn’t expect, I didn’t even think about, but I should of have in all honesty.

It was the walk of a small, delicate-looking woman at first, her long hair and the way she walked, always hurried and always seemingly needing to be somewhere. The second giveaway was the way she gasped when her warm eyes gazed upon me, arms already open, already reaching for me.

She was beaten by a mere hair by the only one man I could say has never disappointed me, the one I trust my very life to, the one I would put my heart in the hands of and would be sure he wouldn’t be so cruel to claw at it.

Warm, Taehyung has always been so warm, since we were kids, even if we never got to stay more than a month together at a time before that moment. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, such a tight grip, and he was pulling me closer as if I would crumble if he didn’t, like this was the only way to keep my supposedly broken pieces together. He was sniffling already, eyes red and bangs falling into his eyes, wide and with so much emotion in them, so much that maybe, maybe just at that moment, the switch that has been pulled within me had been finally gently switched by his fingertips, because after so many hours, I could feel my cheeks becoming wet, the heartache I have been forcing down unknowingly, sobs threatening to rip through my lips. I tried so hard to keep them down, bit my lip until I almost drew blood, and yet, they were trembling so bad, I was trembling so bad that I simply couldn’t stop them.

I remember the blinding lights becoming less blinding, my face hidden at his chest. He was wearing a light brown hoodie, and I haven’t properly seen him in two years, to the point I almost couldn’t recognize him, how much he’s grown, lanky long limbs and slowly sharpening features. He became even taller, as if he wasn’t already taller than me since we were ten, to the point where I reached his shoulder.

Yet, he remained unexplainably Taehyung, my Taehyung, my childhood friend. The same friend I ran from dusk till down with at the farm, the same guy who carried me on his back and stumbled when we were just five because I scratched my knees badly and was crying, the same friend I slept cuddled with in the same bed for so many nights.

At that point, it was everything I needed: the way he held me so tightly, the breakings of his in transformation voice and weird way it sounded when he whispered it’ll be okay, that I’m not alone. It was even more ridiculous considering we were standing on two very uncomfortable chairs or, better said, were almost entirely crumbling them with our fussing.

The blanket wrapped later around my shoulders was the same light brown, soft and warm, his mother handing it to him and going to talk to the police officers.

Maybe just then did it hit me how actually dangerous this situation was for me, for my future. I couldn’t end up in my father’s hands, not when he’s already caused so much pain to my mother, not when everything I knew regarding him was closer to a monster than a human, not when I knew he had a wife home, not when I knew of the harsh words he had told my mother, not when he was already such an absent figure from my life, one that I didn’t and couldn’t trust.

Fear. I could feel it all through my body, the trembling, the shivers, the anxiety building within. Would I even be listened to? Would they even ask me where I wanna go or will I be forced to just go with him as supposedly my only parent alive? Did I truly have no word to say and they’ll just decide for me, will make such an important decision and shove it down my throat as if I’m simply supposed to just accept living under the same roof with someone I can’t suffer, someone who has literally told my own mother she should have aborted me, someone who acted as if I decided to ruin your life, as if I decided to exist, as if he didn’t have any fault in all of this story, as if he didn’t have a whole relationship with my mother without ever telling her he’s married?

It was a concept I couldn’t grasp, I refused to. But me and Taehyung, knowing each other for so long, had a special connection, knew how to read each other, or maybe he’s always simply had this talent, the one where he can tell what I’m feelings, the one where he can anticipate what I’m thinking about in some moments.

“We won’t let him take you. Mom would drag this whole police station to hell before she’d let any of them get their hands on you, dear. You’re gonna come with us. You have to. There’s no other way”

He was so sure, so sure I will go back home with them, with him and his mother.

Two days. It took around two days for all of the mess to merely be talked over so I could at least get out of that depressing place. The flight had been long and very sudden for them too, but they were here, for me.

Another two months went in a blur, but I was let to stay with them, at least.

It was a whole another level of hell. To have to face my father, to prove he’s got not right over me by my mother’s signature, which I didn’t even know in the first place was already arranged between those two women, but God bless their anticipation and planificatory skills.

Things ended up the best it could have happened for such a context, with me going to Korea with Taehyung and his mom, even as I didn’t know much words of the language as we were so used to communicating in Japanese.

Everything was new, but at least I wasn't alone. Even if it wasn't easy, even if many times I wondered if it's even worth it in the first place, if I can continue.

Many things have happened along those four and a half years we've been living together. It didn't feel like I was an outsider, like I didn't belong. It took time to adapt, to interact properly with Taehyung's siblings, to get used to the life here. We had our ridiculous fights, more or less serious, more or less dramatic. His mom feels like my own too, always so warm and yet knowing exactly when to be stern, when to get a tighter grasp on us, when to be our friend and laugh with us and when to shake us to reality.

It's not like I didn't have the time to mourn. I guess I just simply never felt ready to do it properly.

Maybe this is exactly why even when I feel like there's no hope, there is still a part of me that betrays me, that lets it linger. Because I've always had Taehyung. Because we got each other's back when people were bullying us, because my temperament had always spiked when someone targeted him, because I simply couldn't let him all alone. Many times had his mother been called and asked to come to highschool, been repeated I have problems with my behavior and that I become violent.

She tried, she truly tried to instill the gentleness within me. Her and my own mother were very different on those sides. 

To say it didn’t work was an understatement. Especially when it was the period where I finally met Jimin, who was just as mad as me at the world when Taehyung was being mistreated and we more or less formed a protection squad around him.

It had been just me and Taehyung at first, but I have always been happy about him having other friends than me. When Taehyung had told me over the phone he met Jimin, I was happy. When he told me they’re soulmates, I have been not so sure, as I didn’t want him to get hurt if things go the wrong way. Then, I met Jimin myself, who’s so different, whom I have totally another type of interaction with. Yet, no matter how much we bully each other, I know he’s always got my back. I know this man will not hesitate to entirely make someone regret their lives if necessarily.

Taehyung will always remain my best friend, my childhood, my support person and everything good in my life. Maybe it’s just natural to be like that, for him to be everything for me considering he’s always been there for me, like a brother I could simply always count on, no matter how far away.

Jimin was… my biggest critique. In the best of ways. The type to realize I’ve got enough sugar coating, the type to balance it out, the type to tell me I actually look like shit when I do, to grab me by the shoulders and entirely restyle me, refusing to let me out of the house until I look jaw dropping. He’s a big supporter, somehow sweeter, but he’s also rougher in that way that simply fits. Because he’ll be there to wipe my tears away and would know to choose his words carefully, but he’d also call me stupid when it’s needed. The same guy who taught me how to throw a punch properly, the same guy who taught me how to fight even when Taehyung was so against it, knowing I’ve got the spirit in me, knowing I needed the knowledge as to not hurt myself.

Jimin is someone I didn’t think I needed in my life, but also someone I would not let go of and I’m very lucky to have as a friend. Someone whom I’ll always be happy that met my very soul and keeps taking care of it, the only person besides me whom I trust entirely to care for Taehyung, maybe even more, because I won’t be enough of a fool to lie to myself that it’s not different. Guys will always talk and understand each other differently, which is completely natural and normal.

Yet, as much as I adore my actual life, I can’t help but wonder sometimes if it would have been different if she was still there. I can’t help but mourn the kid I could have been, can’t help but mourn for all of the memories I could have and the ones I lost and lose with each day.

With each year I forget details about her and it’s disheartening. Who will remember her if I don’t?

Tagging: @parkdatjimin @pamzn 🥰

Author note: This chapter feels quite bland to me and it definitely didn't end the way I wanted but I guess we can't do things the way we wish for everytime 🥺

[ramp-it-up]

...And Forever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, after TFATWS

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, lies, cursing, angst,  oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, spit play rank kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), sex on a pool table, semi-public sex, a special surprise, stalker-ish behavior, almost Dark!Steve? Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it! This is the second part to Always.  Enjoy!

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

You opened your eyes to see that you were in what looked like a break room. There was a coffee machine, a round table with five chairs, a row of lockers, two Captain Americas, and a Winter Soldier.

There was some strange conversation going on.

“Then who gave me the shield at the lake…?”  

Sam was questioning Steve, but he stopped talking when you started moving around.  You must have still been in the wedding venue, because you saw the name of the historic building on various items in the room. 

You scowled up at Sam, Bucky and Steve.

You moved to sit up and Steve was at your side. “Easy…”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You squinted at Steve. His hair was shorter and he was clean shaven, but he was still gorgeous. Those blue eyes were full of concern. 

You raised your hand, and he held it, holding it and caressing it as you raised it to his face.

“Is it really you?”

Steve smiled ruefully at you. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You held his cheek and looked at him, bringing your other hand up to the other side of his face. He smiled at you. 

You grabbed him and hugged him hard, and then pulled back again as he held you in his arms. He moved back and pursed those ruby red lips. 

You had this irresistible urge to...slap the shit out of him. And so you did.

The sound reverberated in the room. Steve just stared up at you, with that fucking beautiful face, and then smiled, rubbing his jaw as if it hurt. 

But you knew it didn’t. And you were tired of the bullshit.

Sam and Bucky moved to calm you down, but you were too quick for them, pacing to the other side of the room. 

“All of you can stay the hell away from me. Y’all have some fuckin nerve. Especially you, Steven.”  

Your Houston accent was shining through with your anger.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that was harsh. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You pointed at Steve.

“Fuck you.” 

You were seething, especially when he raised his eyebrow at your comment. But he quickly fixed his face when he saw the rage on yours. You looked at Sam, who just looked down, and at Bucky, who looked like he was in pain.  

Fuck thier feelings.

“I deserve your anger. I didn't tell…” Steve tried it. 

“You don’t deserve a got damn thing. Not even my anger.” 

Steve was stone faced at your vitriol. You were shaking, trying to control your emotions and not cry.  You were so hot. You fought to keep your voice steady.

“I thought you were dead.” It came out as a ragged whisper. But you knew everyone heard you.

Your voice was low, even, and scary. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. Your own were brimming with tears.

“I thought you were dead and that they didn’t want to tell me.” 

You waved your hand at Bucky and Sam. And you waited until Steve looked you in the eyes again. 

“I thought you were in prison, that someone, on some alien star, forced you to play some sick gladiator games. Or that HYDRA was still around and they turned you into an agent for them. Or that you lost your memory in the blip. So many scenarios played in my mind, Steven.”

Steve knew better than to talk. This was his time to listen.

“But I never ever once thought that you chose this. Never thought it was your choice to leave and to stay away.”

“Listen…” Sam started speaking.

“Shut the fuck UP, Samuel.” 

If you had Bucky’s knives, all of them would be seriously injured right now.  

“You knew that he was alive and you didn’t tell me. Despite me begging for any kind of information.”  

Sam just pursed his lips and returned your glare.  You were right.

You went and stood in front of Bucky.

“James…” 

He looked at you, those pained eyes making your stomach flip.  

“How could you?  You knew?”

He just stared at you. Retreating into not speaking.

Steve spoke up.

“Yes, I left. Yes, it was my choice.  I thought I could… Well, let’s just say that hindsight is 20/20 and you can’t ever go back. I swore Sam and Buck to secrecy and I asked them to take care of you.  This all just got out of hand.  Didn’t it Buck?”

You watched Steve in disbelief and you swiveled your head toward Bucky and Sam again.

“You both lied to me. And Sam. Did you tell Steve to come back and ruin my life?”

Sam scoffed, offended. “No. I didn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D gave Steve quarterly updates.  You and Bucky happened so fast…” 

You ignored his explanation.

“But you knew exactly where he’d gone.”

“Yes.” Sam was cornered.

You turned back to Bucky. 

“I asked you a question earlier. Did you know?”

He nodded, imperceptibly.  “Doll… I…”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You knew?” Your heart was breaking even more than it was.

“Yes, but it’s complicated. He didn’t come back, at least not the way he left, and I thought it was a done deal. I thought he found…”

You interrupted him. 

“What. Happiness?” 

You turned back to Steve. “Is that what you were looking for, Steve? Happiness?”

“Sweetheart, you made me happy, I just had the chance to finally settle some unfinished business.”

You nodded.

“So James here took advantage of your little vacation to get with his best friend's girl while you explored your other options. Cool.”

It was not cool.

“Do you remember when you asked me if you could trust me, Steve?”  

He just gave a little smile and came to stand before you, looking down at you in that way of his.  He was trying to shake you. You were unshakeable. You raised your chin and looked right in his eyes.

“What you don’t understand is that you can’t pick and choose the pieces of life that you want, Steven.” 

You moved away from all of them. Steve stepped toward you, but stopped when you held up your hand.

“I’ve lived my life for everyone else, for this country, for as long as I can remember.  I deserve a little piece of life, Sweetheart.”  

Steve really believed what he was saying.

“What about me? Do I get a choice?”

Steve looked around at his two best friends, who were now best friends, and his best girl.

“You’re right. I think you should. You should choose.”

Your mouth hinged open. You spoke at the wall, then looked at Bucky.

“What about you, James? Do I need to choose?”

Bucky walked in front of you

“No Doll. You don’t have to choose.”  

You looked up into his eyes.  Damn, he looked so handsome in his bespoke grey suit that he chose for the wedding. And the tie that you gave him set off his eyes.  

“I just….  I just wanted a piece of happiness too. I knew you were Steve’s girl.”  He took both of your hands in his. 

“I don’t deserve you. When Steve didn’t come back, and you and I connected, I couldn’t help it. I was just going to keep an eye out, but…”

He gave you that cute little side smile of his.  And then he kissed you. It was short and sweet and oh so hot. You looked up at him, shook to the core. And then he ruined it all.

“I love you Doll. It was nice while it lasted.” 

Bucky was giving up. 

You nodded and backed away. Not believing this situation. 

“Ok. I’m making my choice.” 

You raised your chin and looked at Steve and Bucky.

“I’m not some fucking marble that you pass around, play with, and trade with your friend.” 

You took a deep breath.  “I choose me.”

You were gone in a flash, before they could even register it.  And although they ran, they couldn’t catch you before you were out of reach.

-----

Three months later, you walked through the late August soup of Houston heat to the bar, pausing when you thought you heard footfalls behind you. You used your speed to zip along to Willy’s; you were safe there.

You were back sharking with the best of them.  But your training was put to good use.  You never got burned and you never got caught.  You were making a good living.  

There were a jumble of misfit super humans who had gathered there with you.  You were a leader now. And you were doing well on your own. It was a life.

You already knew he was coming, and maybe that’s why you moved to the back room to play.

You were prepared, but when you felt him, you still lost your breath.  But you recovered quickly, straightening your spine, despite the fact that he was standing so close to you.

You looked at the dartboard on the wall across from you and chalked your cue.

“Don’t you have other things to take care of? Other wheres? Other whens maybe?”

You learned more about time travel since you’d left New York, and you understood more of what happened. 

The Avengers had access to time travel.  If only you could go back… but no. You were stronger than those men.  You could live with your decisions. And move forward.

“No. What I need to take care of is right here. Right now.”  

His deep growl stirred something inside you, and you fought your body, which was becoming moist at his proximity.

You bent over the table, super soldier dick poking you in the ass before you drew your pool cue back sharply into his stomach.  Abs of steel met the cue and nearly broke it.  He just stepped aside and shook his head at you.

You turned your head to look into his aqua blue eyes and you fell in love all over again.  Shit.

You gave up and turned around, leaning back against the pool table, because he wasn’t giving an inch, not moving from your space.

You scanned the room and your people were watching, but keeping your distance. They all knew who he was, and your history. They gave you space, but wouldn’t let you be hurt without a fight. You nodded at them and they all went to the front, giving you more privacy.

He nodded in their direction. 

“People fall under your spell fast, I know that all too well. They trust you.”

You lifted your head. “I’ve never done anything to make them not trust me.”

He sighed.  “Point taken.”

“Why did you come here?  I know that you’ve known where I was. Sam must have told you.” 

“I’ve known where you were. How could I not? I didn’t need Sam to tell me. It’s not like you were trying to hide.”  

He cocked his head at you.

“But the reason that I’m here, now, is that I’ve always been slow at math. And I just put two and two together.”

You smirked up at him. “You’re right. This is home. A leopard doesn’t change her stripes.”

He just chuckled at your evasion.

“You wanna play a game?” 

His eyes followed you, undeterred by your challenge.

You walked around to the other side of the table, leaned over and gathered the balls to be racked. 

You held two in one hand and looked at him.  He smiled and the electricity at the small of your back was everything. He slowly walked around to you as you racked them.

He took in your form (including your ample cleavage) as you bent over the table and your mouth as you said the word, “Break.”

“I’m tired of playing games, Doll. I’m just here to win you back.”

You turned around and faced him, looking up at him, now aware of his smell.  You closed your eyes and inhaled leather and metal. You opened them again and his eyes were blazing.

“James.. I”  

Bucky grabbed your face, hands gently cradling your head, and cut you off with a kiss, his lips gentle at first. Then his hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto the table. He slotted himself in between your thighs, your bodies separated by the same brand of black denim. 

His lips and tongue seemed determined to possess you. Bucky kissed and felt your body like he hadn’t in a lifetime. His hands roamed you like they were starved from touching you. 

Your hands were on his neck and in his hair, relishing the feel of him. You’d  missed him so fucking much. You drew apart, and his breath fanned your face as you two panted together, his forehead resting on yours.

“I am never going to let you go again.”

“James…”

“Hold on Doll, I’ve got to say this.” 

He smiled and gave you another quick peck.  You nodded, solemn.

“I said the wrong thing back in Brooklyn. I don’t care that you were with him first. I don’t care if you think that you might want to be with him. When I fell for you, I fell harder than I ever have. Even from the train.”  

He was whispering the words you wanted to hear months ago, causing you to cry.  But a lot of things caused you to cry lately. 

Bucky smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that you loved. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you, silencing you again. You responded with a smile. He continued.

“I know that you think that I folded and just gave up on you on our wedding day. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve you. Especially next to Steve.  I mean, you won’t find a better man.  But in the time since, I’ve realized, even though it’s hard. I’m a good man too.”

“You are, James…”

“You helped me come to terms with everything that’s happened. Sam has helped me deal with everything I did...and I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we can be perfect for each other.”  

You nodded, smiling a little.

“I’m in love with you and I deserve you. You deserve me. We deserve each other.  And I’m not saying this because I think you saved me. But you are the strongest woman I know, enough to be with me when I am weak. I figured out that I can be strong for you too. I have to be now. I am so sorry that I let you walk away. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight now, even if you don’t want to be with me.  But I am asking you, again. Be my family. Make one with me. Choose me.”

You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes.

“James Barnes, there was never ever any choice. It’s you. It will be you. Forever.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief and started kissing you all over your face, down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was scared shitless, Doll! I love you so much,…”

You kissed him now, your hands under his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. Next, you went under his shirt, feeling his nipples, playing with them as he shuddered. Then your hands went up to one cold shoulder and one warm, grasping them as he ground his hard jeans covered crotch into yours.

“Too many clothes.”

You ended up helping him pull his shirt over his head. You trailed your hand back down his abs to the button on his jeans.

“I missed you James. My hormones are going crazy, Baby…”  

His eyes got wide as you popped the top button and bit your lip.  Bucky moaned.  He was about to explode just being near you.

“Th-that’s what we need to talk about…”

“Talk later. Fuck. Now.”

Bucky looked over your shoulder to the other room. To his surprise, the door was now closed.

“Wow, they…”

You hopped down from the table and got on your knees in front of him.

“You gonna let me suck your dick or not James?”

He looked down at you smirking up at him and could feel himself leaking in his jeans.  Three months of his hand had been torture, thinking of you.  

It seemed as if he unfastened and pulled himself out without knowing.  For a moment he feared mind control. 

But it was just love and lust.

You grasped him, testing his girth and admiring how your fingers did not meet around his cock.  

“Mmmmmmmm,” you moaned while you thumbed his tip, collecting the pre-cum and lubricating him as you pumped.

He stared at you, slack jawed and sexy as he watched you.  He reached down and put his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

You commanded him. “Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky locked eyes with you and watched as you licked your lips, opened your mouth, and spit on his cock.

“Fuck.”

You pumped him a couple of times before you opened wide and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of his wide, smooth, hard unit in your mouth.  You pulled off of him with a pop.

“Damn I missed this dick.” 

Then you deep throated him again, making Bucky have to hold on to the side of the pool table as he held your head while you spluttered around him.

“And I missed your pretty little mouth, Doll. Damn.”  He watched as you did it a few more times.

When you looked up and  he saw your ruined face, Bucky went feral.

He pulled you up by your shirt, pulling it over your head and wiping your face with it.  Then he kissed you.

“Fucking love how you do that, Doll.”  

He started kissing down your chest, pulling your breasts out of your bra, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, a little more carefully than usual. He looked at you knowingly as you squirmed in pleasure.

“I’ve been doing my research.”  

Then, he leaned down and suckled them with that mouth until you almost came, writhing in his arms. Bucky unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down, kneeling, and staring up at you as you leaned against the green felt table.

You stepped out of your jeans and panties and watched as his flesh hand glided from your ankle to your ass, palming it and then sliding back down as he lifted your thigh on his shoulder.  You shuddered as you could feel his breath on your cunt.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”  

His eyes held yours as he leaned in for a kiss, then a long wet lick of your cunt.  You grabbed his brown hair as his blue eyes hypnotized you and as he ate you out. When his metal fingers came up, whirring, you started begging.

“Please, James…please…please…..”

He laughed, mouth still fucking your pussy. He pulled away, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers began pumping inside you, the vibration driving you up the wall.

“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue, Doll? Talk to me.”

“Unnnh, unnnnh, oooohhh shittttt. Don’t ever stop.” 

And then you came all over his face,  Bucky slurping it up happily.  He stood up, taking you with him and maneuvering you so that you could feel his thick tip at your hole before it breached you. 

Bucky’s cock stretched you out and made you see stars as you slid down his thick pole while he was standing up, pumping inside you as he deposited you on the table.

You wrapped around him like a vine as he held you, cock pounding from the feeling of being inside you again. He pulled back to kiss you again.  He was grunting in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Fuck you feel so good...Fair warning, Doll. I’m not going to last. Been too long.”

You let go of him, and leaned back on the felt, arms braced behind you as you replied, “Just fuck me James.”

Bucky took in your body, from where you were connected up your torso to your breasts and the beautiful fucked out look on your face and started moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”  You took him, looking down to see the impossible stretch.

“Yeah, look at that. Looks and feels so damn good, doesn’t it, Doll? How the fuck are you so… so… fucking… tight….?”

“Yes, fuck, James, FUCKKKKK.”

All nerves were in your cunt as you went down to your elbows, and then to your back flat on the slate table, pool balls going everywhere.

Bucky pulled your hips off the table and really started digging in, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as his metal hand slid down your body. You could tell that he was almost there.

“Cum with me Doll.” 

When that metal thumb touched your clit, it was over.  You came as soon as you felt his white hot ropes of cum drench your walls. You closed your eyes for just a second, and then opened your eyes wide.

‘Why am I curled up on a pool table after being fucked by my 106 year old fiance? What is life?”

Bucky laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and helped you off the table. He looked around, going to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine.

“You good?” 

Bucky eyed you as you got your clothes together.  He leaned next to you as he watched you drink the water.

“Baby okay?”

You ducked your head, smiled and grabbed his hand, putting it on your slightly rounded stomach.

“Yeah. I can feel him moving around.  Can you feel that?”  

Bucky just stared at his hand, then at your face.

“Not really… Him?”  He was astounded.

“That’s normal. I’m gonna be able to feel him before you can, And yeah, Him.”  

You turned more fully toward Bucky and he took you in his arms.  

“I had all kinds of tests, to make sure that he was okay.  I wanted to know if… if what they did to me would affect…. “ 

You shook your head, then smiled up at Bucky.

“He’s healthy.  I’m 20 weeks. I figured we’d call him Jamie?”  

Bucky beamed at you and nodded. 

“How did you know?”

“Well, I figured out that you didn’t faint at the wedding just because of Steve. Why didn’t you tell me, Doll?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really asking me that question?”  

Bucky blanched and you decided not to be salty. 

“Well, At first, I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I was so happy that you asked me and didn’t know.”  You beamed at him. “ But then…” Your smile faded.

“I’m an idiot, Doll. Forgive me.  It’s me and you. And Jamie. Forever.”  

You two shared the kiss you missed at the altar. It was going to be okay.

“Now, let’s go get some food. I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed as you punched his arm. 

“Ass. But you’re right.” 

You two walked down the street to Ninfa’s Restaurant hand in hand. Bucky turned his head and gave an imperceptible nod as you two passed by an alley/

Steve returned the greeting as he stepped out and watched you and Bucky make your way down the street.

“That’s okay Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Buck’s a good man. But I know you’ll choose me. In another time.”

He walked to the quinjet, which was pointed toward New York.

-------

Did Reader make the right choice? What do you think about the surprise?And what the what is Steve thinking? Let me know if you liked it by commenting or reblogging!

Tagging:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou  @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain  @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @fineanddandy @olyvoyl @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83 @curlyhairclub @spookyparadisesheep @keepingitlokiii​ @weaselbeedisneygeek @toofab4utheatrediva

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[raineydays411]

And the adventure begins

Bruce Banner x daughter!reader 

A/n: yay! Another part out! Finally lol. Now time to work on my Loki fic and ignore this one for two weeks lol💀 jk I’m trying to keep up y’all I promise. Anyway hope you like it💕💕

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that you think about it, maybe you shouldn’t have skipped school today. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. 

....On another planet. Watching Thor be forced to fight some old dudes “Champion”, whatever that means.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nerves filled your body as you walked to school. You had an audition in the school play today and you were determined to get the part. Tony had offered to take you to school today but you decided to walk as it would give you extra time to learn your lines. As you pushed through the busy streets, occasionally bumping into a random pedestrian, you heard some girls whispering.

“Oh my god is that..”

“Yes! oh my go, he's so handsome”

“Ask him for a selfie”

“No you go ask hm”

At first you rolled your eyes, thinking it was just some youtuber or Tik tok star, you kept walking, eyes down re-reading your script. Then you heard the girls speak again. 

“Thanks Thor, I’m sorry Jane dumped you.” 

Hearing the name, your head swiveled up. You scanned the crowd looking for the blonde man, at first missing him as he wasn’t in his usual outfit of a cape and battle armour. But then you saw him, in a hoodie and some jeans. Picking up the pace, you jog toward the god not noticing the darker clothed man next to him.

“....it was a mutual dumping”

“I didn’t know the renaissance fair was in town” you say, a small smirk making its way on your face at the quip. 

Both Thor and ...Loki?! Turn around in surprise at the sudden voice behind them. Only to see you looking up at them with a arched brow. 

“Lady Y/n! How wonderful it is to see you” Thor boomed as he brought you into a bone crushing hug. Over his shoulder you could see Loki roll his eyes. 

“Honestly, had I known this trip would consist of young woman flocking to you, I would have allowed your hammer to kill me.”

Thor ignored his brother as he put you down. “My how you’ve grown.”

You smile and say, “Well the last time you saw me I was twelve.” Then you eye Loki with distrust. “Um Thor, why’d you bring brother dearest back to New York?” 

Loki looks at you with distaste, “ Who is this child, and why is she conversing with us?”

“Brother” Thor warns and then turns to you, “ Lady Y/n, we are searching for our father, it seems as if my brother” Thor harshly pats Loki on the shoulder, “ Has misplaced him.” 

You look at Loki and then look at the building that has been demolished

, “ Woah, I didn’t know Gods put their parents in nursing homes” You say “ If you want we can go back to the Tower and try to track him down”  

Thor smiles at the suggestion, “ A wonderful idea, tell me, how have my comrades been in my absence?” 

You cringe at the thought of explaining the events of the so called “Civil war”. Then notice a ring of sparks forming around Loki. 

“Uhh Thor” You say as you nod your head

“What’s this..wha.what are you doing?” He asks in alarm. Loki looks confused as the sparks get larger and more erratic.

“ This isn’t me” Loki says in confusion. Then suddenly the ground opens up beneath him and he falls through with an alarmed “Oh!” only leaving behind a business card. You and Thor look at each other, confusion written on both of your faces. 

“Loki” Thor whispers as he nudges the card with his umbrella. You look at him with concern and think to yourself

“Does..does he think the cards Loki?” 

You bend down to pick up the business card and read it out loud. 

“177a Bleeker St” you look at Thor and ask,” Do you know anyone from there?” 

“ No” He says, ‘ i don’t even know where that is.” 

You sigh, looking down at your script and making a decision. “ Well, lets go find your brother.” 

And with that, you turn around and start walking to your destination.

“Oh well, school can wait”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor find yourselves in front of two big black doors. You stand near Thor as he raises his hand to knock. Suddenly, before his hand is able to touch the door, you find yourselves inside the building. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself as you look around.

“Thor Odinson” a deep voice says. You look up to see a floating figure in the shadows coming towards you both. Thor pushes you behind him as he holds him umbrella threateningly. If you weren’t in potential danger, you would have laughed at the sight. The figure floated into the light and you saw it was a man. 

He was wearing a cloak and some weird robes with yellow gloves. He was relatively handsome, salt and pepper hair that was slicked back, high cheek bones and a goatee. He wasn’t horrible to look at. His deep, baritone voice was soothing.

“God of Thunder” He said looking at Thor. He glanced at the umbrella. “ You can put down the umbrella.” Then his gaze turned to you. 

“Y/n Banner. I wasn’t expecting you here” He said eyes narrowing at you,” Shouldn’t you be in school?”

You chuckled nervously, “ Eh, how can I abandon a friend in need?” 

The man smiles and looks back at Thor and suddenly your in a different room. Looking around in awe you hear Thor start talking.

“So..Earth has wizards now” He says, picking up a dagger from a display on a table, then dropping all of them trying to put them back. You try to hold back a laugh, feeling embarrassed for the god. 

You might have failed though because Thor looked at you with an unimpressed glance. You giggle out loud this time, as you watch him struggle with the knives. Everytime he managed to put one back, another fell. 

“The preferred term is Master of the Mystic arts...” Clank! another knife falls. The man looks very unimpressed, at your giggling and Thor's clumsiness.” You can leave that now.” 

At those words Thor leaves the knifes, trying to regaine his cool, he leans against the table. 

“Alright wizard, who are you and why should I care?” 

“Thor! That’s rude!”  

Ignoring you, their conversation continues, 

“My name is Dr. Stephen Strange and I have some questions for you.”  He says as he eyes you and Thor. “Have a seat”  

Within a second you’re in another room in the building...or least you think it is. The wind blows your hair back as you are suddenly dropped into a chair. You can see Thor look around startled and confused at the sudden setting change. You’re sure your face mirrored his as well.

“Tea?” Dr. Strange asks nonchalantly, a cup of tea appearing in your hands. You look at it in awe, not used to this level of magic, or magic at all. Thor on the other hand looked unimpressed with the cup.

“I don’t drink tea.” He says examining the cup that looked small in his hands. 

“Well what do you drink?”

“Not tea.” Thor says shaking his head. You roll you eyes as you go for a sip of tea, but before you can a large pitcher of beer was in its place. You look up at the two men with a raised eyebrow. 

“I hate to be a bother, but I do drink tea” 

Strange looked at you in amusement as he returns the beer to tea. 

“Jesus made water into wine, you make beer into tea. Interesting..” You say as you sip your tea. It was perfectly brewed of course. Dr. Strange smiled at the comparison

“Well its not exactly like that” Then he turned to Thor, “ So, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from the realms that may be a threat to this world. Your adopted brother Loki is one of those beings.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes and mutter, “Yeah no kidding.” Then you finish the last sips of tea, as you bring it down, the glass is already refilled

Thor looks up from his glass that he basically chugged,”Thats a worthy inclusion” His beer is refilled as well. He looks at it in astonishment.

“Then why bring him here?” Strange asks leaning forward.

“We’re looking for my father.” 

“So..if I were to tell you where Odin was..all parties concerned would return to Asgard” He then looks at you, “ or upper Manhattan.” 

“Promptly” “Try and keep me away from this place.” 

“Great then I’ll help you...and get to that later” 

You smirk at the doctor, knowing that it’s basically impossible to squash your curiosity once you get started. Then you realized something.

“Wait, if you knew where Odin is, why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Well he was very adamant he was not to be disturbed,” He turned to Thor, “Your father had chosen to remain in exile. Also you don’t have a phone.” 

“Hmm, no I don’t have a..a phone but you could’ve sent an electronic letter. It’s called an email.”

“Thor you don’t have a computer.”

“What for?” 

You lock eyes with Dr. Strange and share a look. 

“Uh huh well, my father is no longer in exile, so if you can tell me where he is, the quicker I can take him home.” Thor then takes a sip of his beer.

“Okay, hes in Norway.” Suddenly your on your feet again standing an a library of some sort. You’re a bit unbalance and catch yourself on the self. Strange is muttering to himself as he looks through a book. Then again, you’re in another room with a shelf. Nearly falling over you cling onto Thor, but he’s in no better shape than you, beer spilling everywhere. 

“Oh we don’t need that” Boom, in another room, this time you do fall and Thor breaks another shelf. He places the glass on a table, shaking the spilled beer of his person. 

“Can you stop doing that?” He asked irritated 

“Please” you add in, looking up from your place on the ground. 

You’re on your feet in a blink of an eye, feeling dizzy at the continuous movement. 

“Can I..I need a piece of your hair.” Strange says looking at Thor. 

“Let me tell you something, my hair is not to be --OW” 

You smile sweetly as you pass the yanked out hair to the Strange. “ Here you go Dr. Wizard.”  He makes a face at the nickname but takes the hair with a nod of thanks. Thor looks at you in betrayal. 

“Don’t be such a drama queen” You say rolling your eyes.  You then walk away from the duo, examining books and artifact that were in the room. You were too caught up in looking at all the cool stuff you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Suddenly you were in the front room again. You managed to stay on your feet as Thor tumbled down the stairs. You watched in amazement as Dr. Strange did some hand movements and created a shape in sparks. 

“Could’ve just walked.” Thor muttered as he brushed the dust and wrinkles out off of his clothes. 

“He’s waiting for you.” Then Dr. Strange turned to you,” Would you like to go home Ms. Banner?” 

You looked at him with consideration,” Um Mister Strange, do you think you can help me find my dad?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then he turned to Thor,” Don’t forget your umbrella.

“Oh right.” Thor sticks his arm out like he’s summoning his hammer. You look at him confused. Then you here several bangs and crashes, as if something is being thrown around the rooms. 

“ohhh thats where your hammer went” 

Dr. Strange looks at Thor unimpressed again.

“Sssorry” The umbrella lands in his hands and he brushes the glass off the hammer.” I suppose I need my brother back”

“Oh right”

The a portal appears a few feet off the ground, in comes Loki screaming as he falls and hits the ground. 

He flips his hair back as he catches his breath, “ I have been falling..FOR THIRTY MINUTES” 

You snicker as you go to help the god of mischief up,” Come on reindeer games, lets get you up” 

He doesn’t decline your help but he doesn’t thank you either. You turn to see Thor and Strange shake hands.

“Handle me?!” “Oh boy” “ Who are you?”

“Loki..”

“You think you’re a sorcerer? Don’t think for one minute--”

“Alright bye bye” The portal then is thrown to them as Loki charges with two daggers. 

It’s silent in the room as you whislte,” Well he’s very catty.”

Strange laughs as he nods,” Come on kid lets find your dad.”

You’re then taken back to the library and you give him a piece of your hair. 

“You have had quite the adventure today.” Dr. Strange says as he looks through the books again.

“Ehh, when you live with the Avengers stuff like this is an everyday thing.”

“I could imagine” He says smiling at you. “ Well..it seems like your father is off world”

“Off world?” You question,”why would he be...?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Then a bag appeared in front of you. 

“I have a feeling you won’t stop searching until you find your father.” He nods to the bag. “ Everything you need to survive in Sakkarr is in there, I trust you know how to use knives?” 

“Yeah, Bucky taught me.”

“Perfect, now you must try to get on the grandmasters good side, that’ll give you the resources you need to find your father. Don’t get caught by scavenger or scrapper , you’ll either get eaten or sold into slavery.”

“Slavery?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Sakkarr is known to be the ‘dump’ of the universe. It’s filled with people you must be weary of. The main entertainment are these gladiator type fights the Grandmaster puts on.” He thinks for a bit the conjures up a portal. He pulls a amulet out of it then hands it to you. “If you find your father, or need a quick escape, rub this amule three times t and I’ll make a portal for you to come back home” 

You nod, nervous to go on your personal mission. You look up at Dr.strange and hug him. “ Thanks Dr.Wizard.”

He pats your back uncomfortably,” It’s Stephen.” 

You let go of him and smile,”Well, beam me up Scotty” 

He rolls his eyes and creates a portal, you take a deep breath and look at him. He sends you a reassuring smile and you’re filled with determination. Then you step through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You step through it to see...the steps to some weird looking palace. You look around to see an even weirder looking city. It looks like its built out of scraps of metal or parts. You walk up the steps and into the palace. You look around, astonished at the amount of people?? 

Beings. So many different kinds of aliens. All different colors and shapes. It was like a Star Wars movie. Then you see a familiar face. 

“Loki??” 

He looks up at you in confusion, you speed towards him, happy to see a familiar face. Even if it is Thor's evil brother.

“Ah Thor's child friend. This doesn’t seem like your type of setting.”

“I’m looking for my father, Stephen says he’s here.” 

He scoffs, looking around the room. “It seems everyone is looking for their fathers.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Norway with Thor and your dad” 

“Well it seems that father dearest has been hiding a secret daughter. Who appeared after my father died. And is destined to destroy Asgard.”

“Well shit” you blurt out. “Are..are you okay?”

Loki looks at you like you’re a puzzle. 

“What.”

“Well..” you start nervously, “it sounds like a traumatic experience, so..are you okay?”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, just staring at you. Suddenly he turns around. “We must see the grandmaster. He’s the only one who can guarantee your protection, and I’m sure you would prefer not to be slaughtered brutally in the competition.”

He walks ahead of you, and you stare after him wondering what just happened. Then after he noticed you’re not following him he turns and says

“Well, come on. I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh right.” You catch up to him and walk by his side. Looking around in wonder.

“Why are you looking around like that?” Loki asks as he makes his way through a crowd of...pink women. They had their hair in very intricate styles and weird metallic unitards. They eyed you as you passed by them.

“I feel like I’m in a Star Wars movie.” You pass by a man, he looked almost reptilian. He had pale yellow skin with green slits as his eyes. He looks like he was gambling or something.

“I don’t know what that is. Why would stars commence in battle? It makes no sense.” Loki scoffs as he turns to look at you. You laugh at his misunderstanding.

“I just..never seen..” you trail off not knowing how to explain. Luckily, Loki seems to get what you were says.

“ I can see this is a bit of a change for you. But..you have seen people from other planets before.”

“ yeah..it’s just a lot to take in.” You smile at Loki, “ I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I can freak out about it after I meet the Grandmaster.”

He nods his head and starts walking again, but this time he’s closer to you. Finally, you reach a large room. It’s filled with guards all wearing different colored armor. They part as Loki walks through them, confident with long strides. You follow him, shrinking under their gaze. Loki leans down to whisper to you

“ when you meet the grandmaster, do not be too meak . And do not mention anything about your father till I tell you. Actually, just follow my lead.”

You look up at him and before you say anything, a large woman appears in the room. She looks normal to you. Stocky, a stern face with white markings. A slicked back bun. She’s wearing yellow armor with black accents. She’s holding a large staff with an orb attached to the end.

“ Didn’t the Grandmaster just see you” she says to Loki, glaring at him. Loki smiles charmingly and says

“Oh yes, but it appears that I have found a...friend.. of mine. She, like I, has arrived here on Sakkarr by accident and is hoping to meet with the Grandmaster.”

Then Loki nudges you in front of him, and into the view of the woman. She looks at you with distaste.

“ Poor child is skin and bones. She’s puny.”

You look in offense, but before you can say anything Loki spoke for you.

“Yes, and that’s why I have decided to take her under my wing.”

“ Can she not speak for herself? You expect the Grandmaster to—“ “ Easy Topaz”

“Loki! How wonderful to see you again, even though it’s been about twenty minutes”

A voice cut through the air. Suddenly everyone in the room stood up straight. Topaz immediately stopped talking and turned. A man came in on a floating throne. He was wearing red, blue, and gold robes. He had a blue line down his chin and blue under eye liner. He...he looked like..

“Jeff Goldblum?”

Loki looked at you like you were insane and the Grandmaster and Topaz just looked confused.

“What did she call me?” He whispered to Topaz, she looked at him in equal bafflement. She then tries to hand him the staff.

“ Why are you handing me the melty stick?! She had a slip of a tounge! That’s not a capital offense”

“What is wrong with you?” “I’m sorry! It just slipped out!” “ Do you want to die” “To be fair, that was the biggest compliment I could have given him. Jeff Goldblum is basically a god of cinema.”

Topaz looked at the Grandmaster, “ apparently this..Jeff.. is a god from her world.”

“Hm, child.”

You and Loki stop your whisper arugument and turn to the Grandmaster.

“Come forward.”

You look at Loki in fear and step up to the floating throne.

“Hm” The man says as he examines you. You suddenly feel self conscious about what you’re wearing. A Jurassic park shirt (ironically) with a turtleneck under, some plaid pants and converse. To be fair you weren’t expecting to end up on a different planet.

“I don’t know what Jurassic park is, but look there’s a big lizard on her shirt” he says to Topaz, “ you like lizards?” He asks you. Your eyes widened at the question not expecting it.

“Oh I think I’ve embarrassed her, it’s okay if you like them. I don’t personally like them, they’re all scales and fast and blegh” the Grandmaster rambles then Topaz chimes in

“ and they can grow back limbs”

“Yes! That’s disgusting”

“ I’m sorry, it’s not a lizard, it’s a dinosaur ” you explain. “ it’s from a movie, it has Jeff Goldblum...”

You trail off as they stare at you.

“ Go on, you keep mentioning this Jeff Goldblum, I’d like to hear more about him.”

So there you were, explaining all the different movies Jeff Goldblum was in. From the Fly to Jurassic Park. Everyone seemed...intrested. The Grandmaster somehow got it in his head that you were this great storyteller. So now you were on his good side, just like Loki.

“ Storyteller, I welcome you to Sakkarr! I have never met a child with such interesting stories!” He turns to Topaz, “ Aren’t they entertaining?! So adventurous!”

“ I think they’re weird.” “ Oh don’t be such a buzzkill”

“ I thank you Grandmaster, for being so gracious with my...ward” Loki says, “I assure you that I will keep her out of trouble.”

“ Yes yes, now go, if she is going to stay here, she’ll need to fit in. Topaz, see if you can find a tailor for the child, she’ll need a change of clothes. You as well Loki”

She nods and gestures for you both to follow her. As you walk through the futuristic castle, you are completely in awe. Even though you live with Tony, this is a different kind of technology. Topaz gives you both a tour. She mentions the fights and the arena, but you don’t pay too much attention. Finally you make it to the tailor. After being fussed over and much debating, you finally come to an agreement.

You end up with a sort of body armor. With a black catsuit made out of a leather like material, there were pieces of armor covering your legs, hips, torso, shoulders and arms. Blue fabric was wrapped around your waist, draping down the front and under the armor there. There was also fabric wrapped around your upper arm and shoulders preventing the straps from rubbing against your skin. Finally, to top it all off, a long blue cape drape down your shoulders. You felt awesome. You took the daggers Stephen gave you out of the bag and attached them to your hips. And the amulet around your neck.

“What do you think?” You asked Loki. He looked at you for a bit.

“Your daggers should be attached to your thighs, that way the hilts are at your fingertips and not your shoulders.” He squints for a bit, “ that cape looks ridiculous.”

“Fuck off man I look awesome.”

Loki just laughs and goes to put his outfit on. “ Such foul language for a child.” Then he comes out fully dressed. With a yellow cape.

“ oh? My cape was ridiculous?”

“Hush.”

You smile, and a silence falls between you both. You sigh and look down, playing with the end of your cape. Loki looks at you, examines your face, then looks away.

“ Why...why did you ask if I was alright?” He questions, “when you first saw me..?”

You looked at him your face scrunched in a puzzled expression, “ because.”

“Because what?” Loki asks, not understanding where your coming from.

“ I don’t know, because like I said, something that traumatic must’ve been shitty. I know I wouldn’t be okay.”

“I do not understand you. Why care about someone you never met? Nevertheless someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Now you were really confused. What does he mean by that?

“No midgardian would trust me. Especially after...” He stops, hinting about the attack of New York. “ I am not... not a good person. Nor a good influence. Not for a child.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Your words seem to startle him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“ That’s. Bullshit.” You stand to face him.

“Loki, I’ve known you for about six hours. And in that time, you managed to help me gain favor of a ruler, enough for him to give me a room to stay in and new clothes. You also helped me when you could’ve just left me alone. From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty chill.”

“Chill?” He asks quirking an eyebrow.

“A good person.”

He stops and looks at you, “ you think I’m a good person? Even though I nearly destroyed your planet?”

“ Sure. We all make mistakes.”

He stares at you for a while. Smiles briefly and then gets up from where he was leaning.

“ You, my dear, are one odd child.” He walks out of the room. “Come along, I must get you to your room. It’s late and I am certain you e had a long day.”

You follow him to your room, turns out someone was paying attention to the tour. He leads you to your temporary room, shows you how to open the door and lock it, then makes sure your settled.

“Well, it’s time for me to retire. Good night child.”

When he doesn’t get a response he turns around, he sees you’ve fallen asleep on the bed. He chuckles at the sound of you muttering in your sleep.

“ An odd child indeed.”

Then he covers you, turns out the lights and shuts the door. Leaving you to go to his room.

( he promptly freaks out over how quickly he’s grown fond of you.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @ella-ivanov​

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Caught Recommendations

Author’s Note: I’m trying to keep track of the amazing BTS-themed series and fics that I’m reading on Tumblr, so I decided to create this post with some short reviews (so I can have them all in one place). These writers are amazing and they keep me coming back for more. They are all smutty as hell and full of amazing characters and conflicts.  This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I will be adding them as more catch my eye. Check them out if you get a chance!

Mafia AUs

The Birdcage  & the sequel The Lion’s Den by @untaemedqueen

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mafia AU; Jimin x Reader

What You Need to Know: Jimin-heavy series (and sequel) that dives into Seoul and Busan mafia underground, violence, guns, knives, bombs, pregnancies, and OH so much drama - the writer creates some fascinating characters that we root for and fall in love with over and over again.   

Thou Shall Not Steal by @xherxx

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mafia AU, OT7

What You Need to Know:  The richest mafia lord in the industry throws a huge yet twisted deal before he retires and every gang out there wants to get their hands on his riches. - The drama is real in this one and there is plenty of hot, steamy scenes that will make you tingle. 

Don’t Care If It Hurts by @hollyhomburg

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mafia AU, Jimin x Reader

What You Need to Know: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon, gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring. - Yeah, this is also a hybrid series, but the mafia background is much more prominent. The OC is also smart as a whip and Namjoon as the angry leader and older brother is something to behold. The other members feature as well skilled companions and are very good at their jobs.

Omertà by @lamourche

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mafia AU, Namjoon x Reader

What You Need to Know: A story about an unlikely mob boss and his mafia princess wife. This is a love story set in a brutal world. - Namjoon and his crew are tight knit and set to take over the mafia underground. In a true Romeo and Juliet twist, you are from an opposing family and are desperate to get away from their oppressive clutches. As an added bonus, you and Namjoon fall in love and build up his empire together. 

Blackjack by @kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mafia AU, Jungkook x Reader

What You Need to Know: Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as 'the shadow.' When you become indebted to the worst of the worst - how, exactly can you find a way out? - Jungkook is such a gem in this fic and the action is amped up to 11 throughout the series. 

College/Business AUs

Thesis-It (and the sequel) Prove It by @xherxx

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, College/Career AU, OT7

What You Need to Know:  “When life gives you lemons, make cocktails! It doesn’t solve any problems, but then again neither do lemonades. Besides, it has the word cock in it, just like what the Bangtan boys have on them. So, why don’t you just suit yourself?” - This series was a ROLLERCOASTER of emotion, even when it hurts, you keep going back for more. The sequel takes place AFTER college, but the characters still act like college idiots. LOVE THEM!

Fear & Dumplings by @softyoongiionly

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, College AU, Yoongi x reader

What You Need to Know: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi. - The build up to this relationship is just wonderful and you will be completely enamored by Yoongi in this fic. He’s such a soft precious bean and I want to ruin him. 

The Gentlemen by @honeymoonjin

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Reality Show AU, OT7

What You Need to Know:  Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now! - BEST REALITY SHOW EVER! The characters are vivid and entertaining and the smut scenes are on point. I dare you not to fall in love with every single one of these eligible bachelors. 

Tease by @adonis-koo

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Stripper AU, Jungkook x reader

What You Need to Know:  You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb. - Jungkook starts off arrogant and difficult, but as the relationship progresses, he starts embracing his softness for his new trainee. There is also some hot Big-Little action going on here. 

No Strings by @kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, College AU, Jimin x reader

What You Need to Know:  You voice your concern that you are bad in bed and Jimin offers to test that theory. What ensues is an angsty friends with benefits situation that threatens to tear your friend group apart. You may want to smack Jimin around a bit, but I promise you will not be disappointed in the end. 

The Holi-Date by @kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Career AU, Taehyung x reader

What You Need to Know:  When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and - oh, yeah - tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning. - I absolutely LOVE Taehyung in this fic; he’s playful, sweet, passionate, and funny. 

Hybrid AUs

The Mark of Yun-Ki by @ladyartemesia

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Historical Hybrid AU; Yoongi x Reader

What You Need to Know: This story was wonderfully crafted and if a Tiger-hybrid Yoongi full of ferocity and passion and admiration doesn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will. 

Reasons Wretched & Divine by @hollyhomburg

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Hybrid AU; Namjoon x Reader x Jimin x Yoongi

What You Need to Know: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon. - There are definitely some trigger warnings you should read at the top, but the series is full of mental and physical healing that endears the characters to the reader. The other members are also present as side characters and are hella sweet. 

Abundance by @angelicyoongie

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Hybrid AU; OT7

What You Need to Know:  You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, turns out crazy is an understatement. - This is a sweet complicated hybrid situation where three different groups have to find a way to live together. It takes some time, but they all eventual pull together as a family. 

Jackrabbit by @jamaisjoons

Genre: Pure Smut; Hybrid AU; Jungkook x reader

What You Need to Know: On a university-wide Easter egg hunt, Jungkook decides to educate you on just how wrong you are about him. - this one shot will have your thighs rubbing together vigorously wishing that you could get a few minutes alone with this domineering bun (just don’t call him that unless you want to get punished).

Strawberry Cream & BBQ by @thatmultifandomhoe

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut; Hybrid AU; Hoseok x reader

What You Need to Know: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected. - The relationship between Hoseok and the OC is so sweet and the drama that erupts after they get together pulls on the heartstrings. 

Sci-Fi AUs

Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Space AU, OT7

What You Need to Know:  You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. - The sexual tension is real, y’all. The OC is sassy and hilarious, the other crew members provide colorful commentary and conflicts that keep the reading salivating for more. 

The Turing Test by @fortunexkookie

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Android AU, Jungkook x reader

What You Need to Know: You are an engineer who created an advanced form of Artificial Intelligence named Jungkook, but with every technological advance, there are always some bugs to work out (and not all of them deal with the creator or the creation). 

Parenting AUs

Gingerbread Man by @btsracket

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Jungkook x Reader

What You Need to Know: Jungkook (a recent widower) is a fantastic baker who owns his own shop. The reader bounces in to place an emergency order and fate takes over from there. Jungkook’s son, Jude, is absolutely adorable and all of the angst and drama derived from moving on from an unexpected spousal death makes for one incredible recipe for success. 

The Stand-In by @yoonia

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Namjoon x Reader

What You Need to Know:  Gaining the courage to leave a loveless marriage was hard enough, but is it really a good idea to run to your best friend for help? And would you refuse him when he offers you another kind of ‘help’? - The themes revolving around infertility and then a sudden pregnancy catapult these characters into a wonderful relationship full of love and possibilities. Plus, Daddy Joon is always a yes on my list. 

Intro: Her by @jamaisjoons

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Namjoon x Reader

What You Need to Know: You enter Namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. - Namjoon is raising his three boys Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook as you enter his life as a marine biologist. The kids are sweet and sassy, Namjoon is a total mess, but a sweetheart. I never wanted to be a mother to children more than these tots, and the bonus would be snuggling into Daddy Joon’s arms. 

Idol AUs

Let Me Hold Them by @jjungkookislife

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; OT7

What You Need to Know: An OT7 series that includes mxm, threesomes, open relationships, polyamory, and angst.  Please read at your own discretion & the warnings on each chapter. - It starts off small, and then it escalates quickly. I promise, you will not be disappointed. Read on!

Slight Changes by @jiminimoon

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Taehyung x reader; Jimin x reader

What You Need to Know: Your relationship with Taehyung takes a nose dive when his infidelity is exposed. Luckily, the other members (especially Jimin) step in to make sure you don’t suffer alone. Prepare for angsty chapters and a lot of soul searching in this fic. 

The Studio Sessions by @getitinbusan

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Yoongi x reader; OT7 x reader

What You Need to Know: It’s Min Yoongi’s birthday and you’re ready to give him whatever he wants. When he makes a sarcastic wish while blowing out the candles he didn’t think you’d take it seriously. But he’s glad you did. When word spreads about these special “Studio Sessions” everyone wants to collaborate. - You start with one and work your way through the rest without blinking an eye. It’s a smutty paradise. 

Love Well Done by @oraclemarie

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Yoongi x reader

What You Need to Know: You are the executive chef of your very own fine dining restaurant. A big company makes you the offer of a lifetime, setting you on a path straight to Min Yoongi-your drunken hook up. - once these two start admitting their love for one another, it ups the drama; people can let jealousy turn them into monsters. 

Soulmate AUs

A Thousand Springs by @whitesparrows97

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, OT7

What You Need to Know: Life is short. Eternity is long. Why you in particular are approached by a super attractive man in a club, you did not understand. You understood even less why he wanted to kill you. Fortunately, seven young, also incredibly handsome men show up to help you with this little problem. Purely by coincidence, of course. Or do you really believe in fate? - This fic is action packed with crazy conflicts, special powers, and spicy smut scenes. 

The Immortals by @bang-tan-bitches

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, OT7

What You Need to Know: Sometimes, you find your destiny. And sometimes, your destiny does whatever it takes to keep you. - There are some amazing things happening in this fic and I just want to crawl onto that giant bed with all of them and their mysterious golden powers.

Fantasy AUs

Blood Moon Rising by @yoonia

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Vampire/Werewolf AU; Jimin x Reader

What You Need to Know: As beings from ancient times, the Vampire Clan has undergone numerous changes to thrive in the Modern Age after surviving the Ancient Blood War. As a part of the traveller family in his clan, Jimin has parted ways from the coven until the day his Lords warned him of the lurking danger from inside the clan. And all so suddenly, he was pulled out of his solitary, only to have given the responsibility he had never wished to have, along with the threats that come as a part of the deal. 

Born as youngest yet having lost so much, you have given your family your loyalty, your protection, and had been given their love and support that had become the only thing that keeps you going. But what happens when the only people you have put your trust in only repay you with betrayal?

This series expands beyond this world and into a whole universe of shifter characters. This storyline also includes characters from her other Shifter Series. The storylines are rich and beautifully crafted, and you will love the way the characters stick together on this magnificent adventure.

Of Fire and Love by @hollyhomburg

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Dragon-Hybrid AU; Yoongi x Reader

What You Need to Know:  When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods. - This fantasy world just keeps growing in each chapter and you also get to enjoy a baby Jungkook and a baby dragon Hobi. Beware of fairy Jimin - they’re a sneaky one. 

Faerie Realm by @ddaengyoonmin

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Fairy Video Game AU; Jungkook x Reader

What You Need to Know: Your mother gifts you a video game set that allows you to fully enter the brand new virtual world of Faerie Realm on the first day of its launch. You lack any of the skills or knowledge of playing video games, but you end up having fun thanks to skilled player you meet named Kookie! You are lucky to have met him, because this deadly game is not what it seems.- Based on Sword Art Online, but I think it’s better. The other members become a part of the group and drama ensues. 

Sweeter than Sweet by @gimmesumsuga

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Vampire AU; Jimin x reader; OT7, eventually

What You Need to Know: You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction. - this is a LONG series, but it is TOTALLY WORTH IT. Once you dive into the story, there is no resurfacing until you finish. 

A Court of Curses & A Court of Moonlight by @readyplayerhobi

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff; Vampire/Witch/Werewolf AU; Hoseok x reader; Yoongi x reader

What You Need to Know: (ACOC) For millennia, the vampires and witches have hated one another and war has raged between the two. When tensions flare up once more and spill into neutral land, peace is forced upon the two by the faeries. The price of peace sees the Witch Queen married to the Vampire Prince. One hundred years later, how have things changed? (ACOM)  As Prince Hoseok’s personal attendant, you travel with him on a diplomatic visit to Lunatis, home of the werewolves. There, you meet the enigmatic and intriguing werewolf prince, Min Yoongi, and discover more than you expected as a mere attendant. - this world is so full of magical wonder and I am so invested in seeing how everything comes together. It also makes me soft when I see how loving Prince Hoseok is toward his family. 

Caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma’s MASTERLIST

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Christmas Crush

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem-Reader

Words: 6693 (yikes)

Summary: Bucky has been infatuated with you for months. Will the Christmas Spirit finally help him make his move?

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (just all of it), fluff(I don’t know y’all, I have trouble qualifying this one), slightly dom partner, overprotective partner, SMUT (like over 3700 words of it y’all!), 18+

A/N: Sooo, this was supposed to be like 2500 words guys but I got a bit carried away. Made it in right under the wire for day 3 of my birthday week. This is also an entry for the Merry Hoemas challenge that is being hosted by @amythedvdhoarder​ @chrissquares​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @pumpkin-and-pine​ and @starlightcrystalline​. I chose the dialogue prompt “I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” (from The Holiday). Please enjoy!!

“You better be wearing something nice, Barnes! No cargo pants!” you yelled out to the living area as you finished applying your makeup in the bathroom.

“Yes, boss!” He yelled back at you as he adjusted himself in the dress pants he borrowed from Sam. They weren’t uncomfortable, just tighter than he was used to.

“Dude, leave your crotch alone!” Wilson chuckled at him.

Bucky scowled at him and did his best to focus on anything else. “I can’t believe I let the two of you talk me into this.”

“You know how the boss-lady is, once she gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.” Sam gave him a grin as he lounged on the sofa, sipping a glass of scotch. “Would you relax? We’re going to a club, you literally fought of a group of five assassins on your own last week. This is nothing!”

“I’m used to fighting, I haven’t been dancing since….”

“Oh god, have you not gone out since World War II!” Sam threw back his head and gave a laugh from deep in his chest. “Hoo, boy this should be entertaining!”

The three of you had been on a surveillance assignment for the past three months, and a replacement team had finally arrived to take over for you. Your flight back to the states wasn’t until tomorrow, and you had insisted that all of you find something to do to get over the stir craziness that had taken over. When you found a flyer for a hip hop Christmas party at one of the fancier downtown clubs, you ran back to the suite and insisted that you all head out. Sam was of course down immediately, but it took you a while to convince Bucky it would be a good time.

It was hard for him to not feel like the third wheel sometimes with the two of you. You and Sam loved your hip hop, and Bucky still remembered the first time he walked into one of your sparring sessions while Wu Tang was playing and had to immediately turn around and leave, ears turning red as you and Sam shouted mirth-filled apologies after him. He was slowly warming up to the aggressive music style, but still occasionally pined for the days of the Andrews Sisters and Bing Crosby.

He squirmed in the dress pants again; when did they start making suits so tight? He rolled the sleeves of his deep green shirt up over his forearms, trying to get more comfortable as the lights glinted off his metal hand, when you finally came out of the bathroom.

“You two boys ready to go?”

Fuck me, he thought.

You were wearing a bright red dress that was covered in sequins. It was in a wrap style that was wide open across your chest, exposing the valley between your breasts almost down to your navel. A thin gold chain with a dark green stone dangled around your neck and nestled in your cleavage, drawing the eye as is twinkled in the dying light through the windows. The skirt portion of the dress was short enough that it was almost obscene, and the apex of the wrap was almost up to your hip. You topped off the look with a pair of thigh high black velvet boots.

“Damn, mama, you look good!” Sam whistled at you as he stood up and spun you around with one hand.

“You’re not too bad yourself Wilson. Barnes, you clean up real nice!”

He couldn’t speak. He was suddenly extremely aware of just how tight his slacks were, and he strode over to grab all your coats from the rack and hold his in front of his crotch as he handed Sam the other two, hoping it wasn’t obvious what he was trying to hide as he slipped it over his shoulders.

“Ok, then, let’s head out!” You said, giving Sam a look as he helped you slide into your wool coat. He just shrugged at you before donning his, and the three of you got on your way.

Sam and you walked arm in arm on the way to the club, chatting idly and laughing at the occasional quip. You tried to engage Bucky in the conversation, but he just marched behind you scowling, collar pulled up against the chill in the air.

He couldn’t deny he had developed a bit of a crush on you over the course of your assignment. You always tried to keep morale up in the surveillance house, brightening the air with your laughter as you baked some sort of treat for everyone, or broke out an obscene amount of liquor when two of you had a shared shift off. He still remembered the time you had indulged in the gin just a little too much during a game of poker and passed out with your head in his lap. He hadn’t slept or moved from that position the entire night until he had to relieve Sam in the morning, reluctantly removing your face from where it had nestled during your rest.

He did his best to move past his crush, trying to convince himself it was just an infatuation that needed to wear itself out.

Then he saw you fight for the first time.

Sure, he had seen you sparring with Sam, and may have even done a session with you himself he hadn’t been concerned about how his body would react in such close proximity to you. But when that group of thugs attacked the house last week, he really saw you in action.

You moved like water. Dodging every blow that was thrown at you and landing flurries of strikes of your own that seemed like they shouldn’t have caused any damage but would reduce your opponents to puddles. Bucky almost got knocked out when you had pulled out your knives to spin them through your expert fingers like they were extensions of your will. He’d had to lock himself in the bathroom after the fight to jerk himself off, imagining it was your hands wrapped around him.

Now he watched your ass swaying back and forth in front of him as you arrived at the club, wearing those boots and that dress that made you look like walking sex. His mood soured as he handed his coat to the check girl and shoved his call ticket into his pocket, so he headed to the bar to get himself a drink.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and gave a wince as he turned to face you.

“C’mon, Barnes, it’s Christmas!” You were giving him a heartachingly beautiful smile. “Wipe that frown off your face and come dance!”

He softened as you looked into his eyes. It wasn’t your fault he felt like a pervert everytime he stood next to you.

“I think I’m going to go grab us a table for our drinks, you go have fun with Sam. Maybe I’ll join you in a bit.”

“If you’re sure?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and bit your lip, and he felt his gut clench and his cock twitch at that look.

“I’m sure. Enjoy yourself.”

You gave his arm a squeeze before ordering yourself a shot of vodka that you immediately tossed back before heading to join Sam on the dance floor.

Bucky took his double scotch to one of the tables scattered around the floor and perched himself on a tall stool. His gaze scanned the dance floor before finding you and he let out a groan.

If he thought your fighting was beautiful, it was nothing compared to your dancing. You looked ethereal and free as you tossed your hair, rolling your hips as your arms raised above your head and followed the motion in your torso before they sank back down and rolled along your sides, highlighting the curves of your body. Sam suddenly grabbed you by the waist and spun you, causing you to throw your head back with a beautiful lilting laugh.

Bucky tossed back his scotch and flagged down a waitress, handing her his card and instructing her to keep the drinks coming. Maybe if he drank enough it would relieve the unbelievable ache he was feeling in his chest.

You and Sam joined him at the table after a few songs. You were breathless and flushed and all he wanted to do was kiss you then take you to an alley out back and fuck you stupid.

“Barnes, you are being a bit of a Scrooge here.” You grinned at him as you nibbled on a pretzel. Sam had headed to the bathroom, and you flagged down a waitress and ordered yourself a vodka cranberry before turning back to him. “I’ll order you to have fun if I need to.”

He grinned in spite of himself when you gave him a wink. “Sorry, Y/L/N, this isn’t really my type of party.”

“Aww, Bucky,” he took in a sharp breath, you’d never used his first name before. “You just need to loosen up. I can lend you a hand with that if you need it.” You reached a hand over and wrapped it around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

He almost said something then, but the waitress arrived back at the table at that moment with your drink and you turned to give her a smile and thanks. Sam arrived back from the bathroom then with a bourbon in his hand, accompanied by a beautiful woman with a bright smile.

“Bucky, Y/N, this is Marta, she’s a model!”

“Well hi there Marta, you going to steal my dance partner?” You were giving the girl a massive grin as you teased Sam.

“Yeah, Marta doesn’t really speak English.” Sam grinned.

“Oh, sorry.” You asked her the same question in Swedish.

Marta’s smile grew even bigger as the two of you started babbling away at each other while Bucky and Sam just shook their heads. Marta grabbed your hand suddenly and started to drag you away from the table.

“Be right back boys!” You said over your shoulder as you and your new friend headed off to the bathroom. Bucky watched you walk away and gave a deep sigh.

“Jesus Christ, man, you need to make your move already!” Sam said, exasperated.

Bucky almost choked on his scotch. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He mumbled, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“Bruh, you’ve been staring at Y/N non-stop this whole night. Not to mention the fact that you were moping around the surveillance house for the past few months like a kicked puppy.” Sam shook his head as he tossed back the rest of his drink. “Oh, and if you thought you were sneaky about your little post-fight bathroom session last week, you are very mistaken.”

Bucky snapped his jaw shut and felt a flush creeping up his neck as he imagined your reaction to the discovery he had been touching himself to thoughts of your body underneath him.

Sam waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry, Y/N didn’t notice. I sprayed the fuck out of that bathroom with Febreze after you left. I am never doing anything like that for you again, though.”

Bucky’s heart rate went back down in relief. “We work together Sam. Even if that wasn’t the case, what am I supposed to say to her?”

“Geez, man, just fucking kiss her!”

“Fuck, Sam, we haven’t even been on a date! Don’t women usually want that sort of preamble?”

“Some women, sure. But don’t treat them like a monolith. Y/N appreciates directness and the worst thing that could possibly happen is she tells you to back off.”

“She could stab me.”

Sam guffawed. “Don’t look so turned on at the thought, dude. She’s noticed how weird you’ve been acting. She thinks you don’t like her. One of the main reasons she made us all go out tonight was to hopefully get you to warm up some.”

Bucky sighed, he hadn’t meant to push you away. “I dunno, Sam. She’s super fucking intimidating.”

“Get over it, Barnes. If you don’t make a move, someone else definitely will.”

“Oh my god, Sam, get your ass out here! It’s Christmas in Hollis!” You and Marta were back on the dance floor now and you were bouncing up and down, waving your hand excitedly at Sam.

“Aw, shit, that’s my jam!” Sam was backing onto the floor now, trying to get Bucky to follow him before giving up and turning to you and his date.

An unsteady woman sank into the seat Sam had just vacated and gave Bucky a lecherous grin before she started talking to him in slurred Swedish.

“Sorry, I can’t understand you.” He shouted at her.

“Oh, American man.” The woman purred at him in what he assumed was supposed to be a sexy voice. “You, me, fuck in bathroom.”

Bucky didn’t hear her. A giant blonde man who looked like a knockoff Thor was dancing behind you now, trying to put his hands on your hips and grind his crotch into your ass.

Bucky watched you turn and place a hand on the intruder’s chest, giving him a polite smile as you stopped your dancing, saying something to him that Bucky couldn’t make out over the music.

The guy didn’t take the hint and put his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against his front and putting a thigh between your legs, edging the hem of your skirt upwards.

Bucky didn’t realize he had been gripping the back of one of the chairs with his metal hand until he heard a crunch and looked down to see he had bent the frame when he clenched his fist.

“Knulla.” The suddenly sober woman said, standing up abruptly and scurrying away from the table.

Bucky found himself striding towards the dance floor, fists clenching and a low growl emanating from his chest.

That dirty fucker was still trying to hump you as you gave him a firm shove, trying to turn back to Sam and Marta. He wrapped a hand around your upper arm and jerked you back. Sam stopped dancing and tried to step in, but the son of a bitch slapped him in the face before turning back to you and smashing his mouth into yours, shoving his free hand up the front of your skirt to try to get at your pussy.

Bucky arrived just as you pulled back from the cocksucker and drew the offensive hand back so sharply, a snap resounded across the floor and he let out a scream.

Bucky punched him in the face before grabbing him by his collar and tossing him away from you as three security guards came rushing to the scene, too late to offer any sort of assistance. Marta managed to intercept them and started screaming at them in Swedish as you and Sam moved between Bucky and the giant Swede who was now a blubbering mess on the floor.

“It’s good Barnes, you can relax.” Sam said.

“Bucky, it’s ok. He isn’t worth it.” You were as close to Bucky as you had ever been. He could feel the heat radiating off you as you put a hand on his chest.

You had never seen Bucky so angry. His jaw was clenched so tight, you were worried the tendons in his neck were going to snap. He was breathing deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glared murderously at the man who had touched you.

“Baby, you can let it go. I’m ok.” You murmured low enough that only he could hear you.

He looked into your eyes and relaxed, taking a deep breath through his mouth and nodding as the security guards dragged your assailant out of the club.

“Good boy, now you owe me a dance.”

Bucky’s look instantly changed to confusion as you dragged him onto the dance floor, giving him a breathless laugh as you started dancing again.

He had no idea what to do with himself. You saw his look of utter helplessness and turned to face him. You placed his hands on your hips and your hands around his neck and looked into his eyes. You’re hips started rolling to the rhythm as the rest of your body swayed in time with the music. Bucky was too aware of his feet and broke eye contact to stare at them, trying to figure out how he was supposed to move.

He felt your hand lift his chin and you shook your head at him before bringing the front of your body flush against his. You lined up your hips to his and started rolling them, your legs on either side of his massive thigh as you gyrated against him. He let out a moan and screwed his eyes closed.

You brought your face against his neck and whispered in his ear. “Just relax honey.”

You dipped your hips slightly and he followed you, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent as his brain finally stopped overanalyzing what he was doing.

You felt the muscles underneath his shirt tightening and releasing as he rolled his body against you and your pussy clenched over his thigh. You gave a soft gasp and hoped the rush of arousal hadn’t soaked through your panties and onto his pants. His hands were pressing into the soft skin of your hips, and you knew you would have light bruises there tomorrow.

You pulled away suddenly and Bucky groaned at the loss of you before you flipped your hair forward and dropped your ass, separating your thighs slightly as you slowly drew your back up Bucky’s front before nestling your ass into the dip in his pelvis that seemed made to fit you.

Bucky growled into your hair and nipped at the soft skin behind your ear before starting to grind himself into your ass. He brought his metal arm to press against your abdomen and push you further into him, while his other wandered up between your breasts, giving one of them a soft squeeze before loosely wrapping his fingers around your throat

You felt him harden against you and let out a small gasp, starting to pull away before his metal arm locked you in place.

“Don’t you fucking move.” He growled in your ear, nipping gently at the lobe with his teeth.

His hips were moving at their own rhythm now, the music forgotten. Neither of you noticed Sam making an exit with Marta, grinning back at you before shrugging his coat over his shoulders and heading out into the snow.

Your breath was hitching softly as Bucky rutted himself against your ass, and the sound was driving him crazy. You could feel your cunt throbbing as it became slick, your arousal soaking your panties and threatening to start leaking down the insides of your thighs. He suddenly stuttered his hips and let out a hiss before stilling.

“Shit.”

He had come in his pants like a teenager, filling his boxer briefs and leaving a small wet spot on the front of his slacks. His arms released you as he stood up straight, leaning his forehead against the back of your head and screwing his eyes shut. He’d never been so embarrassed.

You shuffled the edge of your skirt down before turning around and pressing your lips against his softly. He groaned against your mouth as he brought his hands to either side of your face, tangling them in your hair. You discretely untucked his shirt as you kissed him, covering the evidence of his orgasm graciously. You pulled away before he could really lean into the kiss, and he let out a dissatisfied sigh.

You looked at him through heavy lids, biting at your kiss swollen lips before taking his hand and dragging him to the exit. “We’re going back to the hotel”

You tossed the coat tickets at the girl at the counter, breathing heavily as you tapped your nails impatiently. You snatched the coats from her without a word and tossed Bucky’s to him before charging out the door.

Bucky almost slipped several times back to the hotel as you set a brutal pace. He couldn’t get a read on you now and was worried he’d ruined things already.

You rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, one hip cocked to the side as you clicked the opposite heel against the floor rapidly. As soon as the doors opened, you strode down the hallway like you were possessed and Bucky hurried after you, concern written all over his face.

You arrived at the room first and wrenched the door open, leaving it open behind you as you stepped inside. Bucky was a few steps behind you but stopped at the entrance. He was certain you were going to lay into him as soon as he entered and wanted to take a moment to collect himself. He was running his metal fingers through his hair when your arm suddenly shot out, your fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt and hauling him inside as he let out an uncharacteristic yelp.

You slammed the door behind him and pressed him up against it, shoving your fingers under his collar and wrapping them around his neck before you smashed your mouth to his violently, clashing your teeth against his before shoving your tongue down his throat.

Bucky overcame his surprise quickly and grinned against your lips as he slid his coat off his shoulders before cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze.

Your lips left his suddenly, leaving him breathless. You gave him a small smirk before sinking to your knees and starting to undo his belt.

“You’ve been keeping this pretty cock from me baby. My pussy’s been gushing thinking about your hot length in my mouth.” You were kissing around the bulge in his pants as you slipped his loosened belt out of the loops and undid the buttons. He leaned his head back against the door and hissed through his teeth. He’d never had a woman speak to him like this before and it was making his cock ache. He jutted his hips forward and you rubbed your face against his cloth covered erection before drawing his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs swiftly, freeing his dick to bounce back up against his abs.

You spat in your hand and wrapped it around him, drawing a groan from his chest. You started peppering soft kisses along his shaft as you ran your hand up and down slowly. “God Bucky, you’re so fucking big, I can’t wait to feel this in my pussy. I need to taste your sweet cum first though honey.”

You softly ran one finger up the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that ran from root to tip before dragging your tongue in a heavy stripe over the same path.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and let out a hiss. “Fuck, Y/N, who taught you to talk like that?”

 “Mmm, you like it sweetie?” You asked him wickedly as you ran your tongue over the sensitive slit along his tip, lapping up the pre-cum that was starting to collect there.

“God, yes.” He couldn’t believe how much the filthy praises you were giving turned him on.

“I’ll give you as much as I can honey, but I’m worried this cock is going to fuck out my throat.” You took him in your mouth then, relaxing your throat as you drew in his entire length, feeling his balls hit your chin as you swallowed around him.

“Shit!” he thought you were going to go slower and he almost came immediately when you hollowed your cheeks around him and pulled him out slightly before taking him in again, bringing a hand up to fondle his balls.

He braced his metal arm against the door as he started to thrust his hips, fucking into your face as you choked around him, tears streaming down your cheeks and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth.

“God baby, you’re taking my cock so good. That mouth of yours is fucking amazing.” His hips picked up speed and he gazed down at you. You looked sinful, a flush in your cheeks and over your chest as you gazed up at him through thick lashes. You moaned around his cock as his praise caused a fresh rush of arousal to leak from your cunt.

“You gonna take my cum down like a good girl?” His hips were starting to stutter and you felt his cock twitch at the back of your mouth. You let out a tiny whine and tried to nod as he shoved himself all the way in, stilling himself as you felt his release run down your throat.

He pulled his softening cock out of your mouth and wiped the drool from you chin before softly cupping your cheek.

“Stay right there for a second pretty girl.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered at him, your voice husky now that your throat was raw.

He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled it off over his shoulders, then removed his undershirt and tossed it aside too until he was standing in front of you naked.

You let out a low moan at the sight. His muscles were sculpted beautifully, his chest dusted with dark hair that tapered to a happy trail that led down to his thick cock. The skin around his metal arm was scarred and puckered, and other faint scars were visible elsewhere on his body, giving him an air of danger and menace. Your cunt clenched as you took in the sight, biting your lips as you ached to run your hands over his body.

“Stand up.” He ordered you. He didn’t know what had come over him. He had spent months wanting to beg you for some sign of affection, but now that you were there kneeling in front of him, he just wanted to take it from you. And you were willing to give him whatever he required.

You drew yourself up slowly and he picked you up with one hand and wrapped your legs around his waist. He brought your mouth down to his and teased your lips open with his tongue as he carried you to the bedroom.

He knelt on the bed with you straddling him and started to trail rough kisses down your neck, sucking occasionally to draw a bruise against your skin.

As he reached your shoulders, he wrapped his metal hand through the chain around your neck and gave it a yank, snapping it off you. He drew the shoulders of your dress down, exposing your tits as you arched your back up to meet him.

“God Bucky, please” You whined as nuzzled his face into the valley between your breasts, his stubble scratching the skin there.

“You want something, baby?” he asked you wickedly, kissing slowly up the slope of your breast until he almost reached your nipple, then moved his mouth away again.

You groaned and wound your fingers into his hair. “Need your tongue on me, please baby.”

“Where did you want it sweet girl?” he asked innocently before cupping one breast in his hand and rubbing the nipple with his nose. “Did you want me to lick you here?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!!” His tongue swirled slowly around your nipple, drawing it to a sensitive peak. “God Bucky, that’s so good!”

He brought up his metal hand to palm your other breast and you gasped at the contrast of the cool metal against your warm flesh. He tweaked the other nipple and you groaned. “You want my tongue on this one too, honey?”

“Pleasepleaseplease….” You whispered breathlessly, whining when he moved his mouth where you asked him. You started grinding yourself into his thigh, desperate for release as your pussy quivered and wept.

“No.” He ordered, grabbing your hip with his metal hand and holding you still. “You don’t get to come unless it’s on my cock sweetheart.”

You let out a thin keen as tears leaked down your cheeks.

Bucky brought his face back up to yours, holding your chin with his other hand and kissing you hungrily. You cried into his mouth in desperation.

“You want this cock, pretty girl?”

“God, yes. Please, Bucky!”

“You asked me so nicely, honey. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He gripped your dress in his metal hand where it had gathered at your waist, gave it a twist, and ripped it off you, sequins and beads flying off the bed and across the floor. He grabbed your panties next and shredded them, bringing their ruins up to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before tossing them aside and giving you a wicked grin. You bent one leg up to start to remove your boots when he slapped your hand away.

“Leave those on.” He growled at you.

He took a moment to pause and look at you, memorizing every slope and curve of your body. He spread your legs wide and gave a low moan when he got a look at your pussy, coated in slick and swollen with desire. He drew two metal fingers softly up the inside of your thigh before running them over your sex, coating them in your arousal and making you moan. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“You taste so good baby girl. Maybe once I’ve fucked you stupid with my cock I’ll eat you out.”

“Unnhh, Bucky, give it to me.” You begged him.

“You need something baby? You gotta be specific.”

“God, need you inside me. I fucking need your cock. Bucky, please.”

“Alright sweetheart. You better have at least five orgasms on my cock sweet girl. Otherwise I might have to spank you.”

He lifted your right leg and looped your knee over his elbow, opening you wide as he brought himself up to your entrance. He slowly drew his length through the slick gathered there as you whimpered, then he slammed into you, bottoming out right away and knocking the air out of you.

“FUCK!!!” you screamed as you came immediately, clenching and fluttering around him as you went rigid and started to tremble.

“That’s one, baby.” He grinned as he started to fuck into you, not bothering to wait for you to come down from your orgasm. “Shit, this pussy was fucking ready for me. Look at you gripping me so good, like you’re fucking made for my cock.”

“God, Bucky!” you whined. “You’re so big, keep moving baby. Fuck that’s so good!”

Lewd squelching noises filled the room, combining with the slap of flesh against flesh as he drove into you hard.

“Mmm, you’re squeezing me so tight, honey. You gonna come on my cock again?” Bucky slipped a hand underneath your ass and tilted your hips just a bit and felt you clench around him.

“Shit, right there. God, I’m coming again. Don’t fucking stop.” Your face screwed up as your second orgasm ripped through you, curling your toes in your boots as your legs quivered with the strain.

“Good girl.” He praised you as you fluttered around him, your release soaking your thighs as it seeped out around his cock. “I’m gonna move you now, sweetheart, get ready.”

His hand moved under your waist and he wrenched you up until you were flush against his chest. The coarse hair there scratched against your sensitive nipples and you gave a soft whine at the change in position.

Bucky stared into your eyes. Your face was a mess. Lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin. Mascara and tears running in streaks down your flushed cheeks. Mouth open and panting with need and pupils blown wide as you gazed at him through your thick eyelashes.

You looked like the perfect mixture of sin and sex. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

He wrapped both his arms behind your shoulders and buried his hands in your hair, pressing your face to his and forcing his tongue between your lips and teeth, running it everywhere it could reach inside your velvety mouth, growling into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and opened yourself up to him, whining as he increased his pace even more and you felt the tension gather in your core again.

“Give me another one, baby. My good girl. Show me how good that pussy is for me.”

You buried your face in his neck and groaned as you felt every muscle below your waist go rigid and another orgasm wracked you. You didn’t know if you could handle two more.

“God, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. This pussy is making a mess everywhere.”

He pulled out of you suddenly and you gasped, hoping for a reprieve. But he just flipped you so you were on all fours and slammed back into you, making you scream.

“Just two more pretty girl. Then I’ll fill this pretty cunt with my cum.”

You didn’t know how he could last this long as he pounded into you relentlessly. He drew you up straight suddenly so your back was against his chest and you gave a small whimper. Your throat was raw from him fucking it and from your screaming, and the only sound you managed to make now was a stream of unintelligible mewls.

You leaned your head back against Bucky’s shoulder as he brought a hand up to palm at your breast. His metal fingers moved to the apex of your thighs and started drawing rough circles against your clit. You felt tears leaking down your cheeks as your pleasure began to gather. He drove them into you suddenly and you let out a thin wail as your entire body went stiff before vibrating with your release.

Bucky guided your fall forward gently until your face was resting against the blankets. Your arms couldn’t hold you up anymore so they laid limply next to your face as Bucky gripped both of your hips and drew them back to him over and over. You felt drool leaking from your open mouth as you blinked slowly. You were absolutely cock drunk. The sheer number and intensity of your orgasms had made your brain short circuit. He really had fucked you stupid.

Bucky slapped your ass suddenly and you gave a sharp gasp as you came one last time, fisting your hands into the blankets to try to keep from passing out.

“Good girl.” Bucky murmured at you. You could feel the smile in his voice and you felt your cunt clench around him at the praise. His hips started to stutter and you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“You ready for me sweetheart? This pussy treated me so good, I’m gonna fill you up.”

You managed to moan out a single word through your hoarse throat. “Please…”

The wantonness in your voice pushed him over the edge and you felt his hips still suddenly as he released inside of you. The feel of his hot cum coating your velvety walls made you moan like a whore.

“Fuck, baby. That was so good.” He gently lowered himself on top of you and you felt him soften inside of you. He peppered gentle kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he pulled out of you slowly. You gave a contented sigh as he rolled off you and headed to the bathroom. You’d never been fucked so well in your life.

You heard the water running and you managed to lift your head to watch Bucky return, holding a damp washcloth. His abdomen, thighs, and cock were coated in your release, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom as he walked back towards you and sat down on the edge of the bed. The sight of his naked form filled you with a renewed sense of desire.

Bucky rotated you carefully until you were lying on your back and brought his face down to yours and gave you a soft kiss before moving himself between your legs. You heard him suck in his breath sharply when he got a good look at you, drawing your knees apart to get a good look at your pussy.

“Fuck honey, you’re beautiful.”

The skin of your mound and thighs was flushed red where he had thrusted into you repeatedly and it was all coated in the evidence of your multiple orgasms. Your cunt was swollen and pulsing as his cum slowly leaked out of you, collecting in a small puddle on the sheets.

Bucky gently cleaned your thighs and mound with the cloth, being careful to not irritate your already sensitive skin. Then he worked your folds apart with his metal fingers and drew the damp fabric over your slit slowly, collecting his release from your entrance. You gave a groan and pressed yourself into the cloth when he tried to pull it away.

“Jesus, sweetheart, already?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and stared at him. “Bucky, you promised.”

He shook his head and tutted his tongue at you. “No, I said I might eat you out after I fucked you stupid. No promises were made.”

“Bucky, please?” You begged him, your voice husky with lust.

He gave you a look then moved to kneel between your legs. “Can’t say no to you, pretty girl. Not after this pussy treated me so good.”

You gave a soft chuckle followed by a gasp as he flattened himself on the bed and drew your left leg over his shoulder, softly kissing and sucking down the inside of your thigh before he nuzzled himself into your folds.

He softly licked at your entrance, lapping up the renewed evidence of your arousal as he dragged his tongue up and down your slit before he wrapped his lips around your tiny bud and sucked softly.

“God, Bucky! More…please…” You moaned at him, winding your fingers into his hair and pressing him further into you.

He gently teased two metal finger around your entrance before inserting them slowly, grinning against you as he felt your pussy flutter around them.

He started fucking them into you steadily while he gently sucked at your clit, crooking his wrist to hit your sweet spot as he picked up speed.

“Fuck! Right there! Don’t you dare stop! So, so, good! Please baby!” You started babbling, the pitch of your voice getting higher as he edged you closer to your release.

He latched on and sucked hard at the same time he added a third finger, and you came apart around him, soaking his chin and stubble as your thighs tried to crush his head between them and your pussy clenched and twitched around his fingers.

Bucky crawled back up the bed and laid next to you, drawing you to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You nuzzled your face into him and let out a low humming noise to show how content you were.

“God, it took you long enough, Barnes.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head, pulling the blankets over the two of you and flicking off the bedside lamp.

“You know, you could have made a move yourself.” He murmured against your hair.

“And offend your World War II sensibilities, grandpa? You would have run away screaming.”

“Grandpa?”

“Whatever, you were scared of me. I didn’t want to frighten you off before you took advantage of your crush.”

“Right, crush.”

“Mmm, if this is how you fuck on the first date, what are you going to do when you fall in love with me?” You teased against his chest, your breathing growing deeper as you drifted off to sleep.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” He lied as he dozed off.

The snow was falling heavy over the city. And Bucky was dreaming about marrying you.

[agerefandom]

Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To

Fandom: Resident Evil VIII/Village

Words: 4,000

Characters: regressor!reader, cg!Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu (other Dimitrescu sisters mentioned).

Content Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. CGLRE terminology/parental caregiver terms (Mommy). Diaper mentions. Firearms, knives, and vampirism. Reader gets injured (but cared for afterwards). Minor character death. Blood. Eldritch biology and limited insect horror. Fem reader (uses she/her pronouns). 

Author’s Notes: Y’all are clearly hungry for caregiver Lady Dimitrescu, and I hear you! I’m planning a fluffy follow-up fanfiction with a happy reader getting babied by Alcina, where there is no blood and violence, but first… we have to take care of Ethan Winters. So that’s what this is. Enjoy! 

You come to consciousness slowly, the strands of a dream still clinging to you. The memory is already fading, but you remember feeling cold. Wandering a frozen wasteland, lost and alone.

It’s a relief to breathe in the warm air of your bedroom. The fire has burned down to embers, but the windows keep out the cold winter of the mountains around the castle where you live. The rooms are always kept warm for the comfort of your big sisters.

You yawn and stretch your arms over your head, wiggling your toes against the soft sheets of your bed as you shake off the lingering fatigue. You were dressed in a onesie for the night, with a short built-in skirt, and you don’t really feel like a baby right now. Today, you want to run around and explore the castle on certain legs.

You slide out of the bed and make an unhappy sound as the cold stone meets your bare feet. You quickly make your way over to the heavy wardrobe that towers on the wall across from your bed. Far too tall for you, it was made to fit Mommy’s dresses, but you liked climbing in it so much that Mommy brought it to your room one night while you were sleeping, and filled it with your own outfits.

You reach up to the handle and pull the doors open, looking up at the many dresses and onesies that fill the wardrobe. It’s winter right now, so there’s a whole section of fur-lined dresses that will keep you warm if you want to play with Mommy outside. You don’t do that often, because your sisters get jealous, but Mommy is really good at making snowforts that you can climb inside, and you like playing with her in the snow.

For today, you pick out a simple ruffled black dress that comes down to your knees. Mommy can do your hair with black ribbons and crow feathers, and you’ll blend in with your sisters’ dark dresses.

Humming to yourself, you bring the new outfit over to the statue in the corner. The door to the bathroom is hidden in an alcove, and you have to push the statue’s elbow to open it. This seemed odd when you first moved into this room, but now it’s just another part of your daily routine. The castle is full of tricks and hidden passages, and you still haven’t explored all of them.

You slip past the statue into the revealed doorway, and dump your clothes on the floor as you rid yourself of the onesie and the diaper underneath. Baby stuff! You’re not a baby today.

You replace the diaper with a pair of soft bloomers, and the onesie with the black dress. It has a line of buttons that run up your spine, and you can’t quite reach them all, so you leave a few undone and decide you’ll ask one of your sisters to help. Mommy has been busy a lot for the last few days, so you don’t know if you’ll see her today. You hope so, though. You miss her.

You pull a pair of stockings on, sighing happily as your toes are finally protected from the cold tile floor. The rest of the bathroom visit is boring, brushing your teeth and washing your face. One of your big sisters will brush your hair: hopefully Bela, she tugs your scalp the least.

Once you’re all dressed, you skip out of the bathroom and slip on a pair of shoes. They’re flats, because you’re too young to walk in heels, but they click on the stone floors and make you feel like a little tap dancer. And they have bats printed on the sides in white, which makes you happy.

You run into the hallway, letting the golden door to your room close behind you.

This castle used to confuse you, with all its winding hallways and grand staircases. You would get lost whenever Mommy wasn’t holding your hand, and one of your sisters would find you and drag you back to your room. They didn’t like you very much at first, but they’ve gotten nicer. Daniela reads to you sometimes, and Bela plays pretend when you ask her. Cassandra is… Cassandra, and she tries to feed you lots of nasty things, but she also likes to do your makeup. So she’s okay.

The four of you cuddle sometimes, when Mommy’s away and the castle is a little chilly. They like your body heat, and you like the contact.

Through the years, you’ve gotten comfortable both with your big sisters and with the castle itself. It’s second nature to dodge through the secret passage to the staircase into the main foyer, peering around for any of the other castle inhabitants. Mommy gave up on the servants again last week, so it’s just you and your family members right now. Unless you want to go down into the basement and play with the remains, who stumble and hiss and take care of the rats. They don’t attack you, only intruders, but they aren’t very much fun to play with.

“Mommy? Sisters?” you call out into the hall, tapping one foot against the ground.

For a few moments, there’s nothing. Then Mommy ducks through the door behind you, fully dressed with her lipstick on. Maybe she’s already been out today.

“Sweetheart?” Mommy rushes over and kneels on the stone floor to embrace you. “What are you doing out of your room?”

“Hungry,” you say. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, little one.” Mommy draws back and puts both hands on your shoulders. She makes you feel so small. You almost wish you’d worn a onesie today. When you’re a baby, Mommy carries you everywhere and never lets you out of her arms. That sounds nice, especially when you missed her so much. “Listen to me, sweetheart.”

Mommy looks… serious. You blink and try to focus. What is that look in her eyes? It’s so unfamiliar. Could it be worry? No, Mommy doesn’t worry about anything.

“I need you to go back to your room and lock the door, okay? I’ll bring you food soon, but you need to stay there.” She isn’t blinking as she stares into your eyes. “Some prey has escaped. Your sisters will handle him swiftly, but he is armed. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sometimes, Hunters come to the castle and try and hurt your family, and you have to wait in your room. They bring knives and guns, but they can’t hurt any of the others. You aren’t like your sisters, you’re fragile. So Mommy keeps you safe.

“I’ll carry you there, little one. And remember, don’t you leave.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Mommy wraps her arms around you, and the ground drops away. Settled on her hip, you cling to her side. Mommy runs hot like you, not like your sisters. When you lay on her chest, you can hear her pulse, a rapid double-beat. Your sisters don’t have a heartbeat, but you can hear the fluttering wings that fill their chest if you hold your breath and listen closely.

You like Mommy’s warmth, and you like how strong her arms are around you. You can barely feel the rhythm of her steps as she drifts down the hallway towards your room.

“I’m a big girl today,” you tell her. She’s carrying you like a baby, but maybe she just missed you as much as you missed her. Or maybe she really is worried.

“I can tell! You got dressed all by yourself,” Mommy teases, wiggling a finger into the gap left by the buttons you couldn’t reach.

“Uh-huh!” You’re proud of the outfit you picked out. “Can we play outside soon?”

“Once the problem is taken care of, I would love to watch you play in the courtyard.” She rests her hand at your back, keeping you close. “Big girls need their fresh air, after all.”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

She sets you down all too soon, straightening them hem of your dress. “Here we are, darling. Don’t open the door for anyone other than your sisters, and protect yourself if you must.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” Mommy presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, and then ushers you inside the bedroom. You turn in time to watch her close the door behind you, and you obediently turn the lock. Only Mommy’s key can open your room, like many others in the castle.

You flop onto your bed with a huff.

You got to see Mommy for the first time in days, but she’s busy with some stupid human who escaped from your sisters. You hate the stupid human who’s costing you time with Mommy, especially when she said you could play in the courtyard.

And you’re hungry! Mommy said she would bring you food, but you’re hungry now.

You kick your feet against the mattress. It’s a half-hearted tantrum, since no one is watching, but it makes you feel a little better.

Eventually, you hop off the bed and pace the room, your shoes going click click click on the stones.

It’s just one human, right? And you’re a big girl today. And it’s a big castle! He’s probably nowhere near the kitchen. You can run out, get some food, and then go right back to your room. Mommy will never know that you left.

You reluctantly retrieve your weapons from the top of the dresser, adding your belt of throwing knives on top of your dress. You aren’t supposed to use them when you’re little, but you’re not that little, and Mommy said to protect yourself if you needed to.

You take two of the knives in your hands, and try spinning them. It’s easy, body memory taking over. You toss one across the room, and it slices through the swirl of curtain you had been aiming at.

There, it’s settled. You’re a big girl and no manthing is going to scare you.

Nodding, you tuck the remaining knife back in its sheath, and turn your attention to the fireplace. It’s the fastest way to the kitchen from your room, and you’ve used it as a shortcut many times in the past. Your sisters don’t care if you get your dress dirty, they get blood and dirt on theirs all the time. So a little ash and grime is fine. (Mommy would disagree, but Mommy isn’t always around.)

You pour some water on the remaining embers from last night’s fire, and shuffle carefully into the fireplace. The wall at the back of the fireplace has crumbled away, revealing a passage that once needed to be triggered by pressing a certain brick. Now you can just crawl straight into it.

The rats like the passageways by the kitchen, and you brush past a few of them in the dark. Cassandra once trained a bunch of the castle rats to attack intruders, and you’ve had a fondness for the little friends ever since. They were scary in big groups, but just like everything else in Mommy’s castle, they would never hurt you.

You emerge into the kitchen, and stretch up to standing. As expected, your palms are covered in grime, and your skirt is heavy with soot and ash. You do your best to brush yourself off, and then start towards the sink to wash your hands, when a terrible screech fills the air.

“You stupid manthing!” you hear Bela scream from the next room.

Your headspace makes a quick shift into adulthood, startled to hear one of your sisters so distressed. Immediately, you run to the gate between the kitchen and the lower levels of the castle. Through the gate, you can see that one of the windows has been shattered. Dozens of your sister’s insects lie on the floor, unmoving, as she stumbles in the wind blowing through the broken glass.

“Bela!” you cry out, scrambling to open the gate. That’s when the first gunshot rings out, tearing through your sister’s shoulder. Her insects reform around it, but she cries out and you can tell that it hurt. As she stumbles to the left, you see the man standing behind her.

He’s covered in blood and grime, barely recognizable as human, but the stubble scattered across his cheeks marks him as prey to your family.

“Get away from my sister!” you scream, as the manthing shoots again at her. This shot hits her head, and insects scatter from the impact. Her face is gone for a moment, then reforms, her mouth wide open in rage.

Bela charges the stranger, her scythe held high.

You watch them struggle, and the man pushes her back into the frigid wind. He switches his attention to the windows, and breaks another one. You feel the winter air sweep inwards, and Bela wails.

“Bela, run!” You throw the gate open. “Get out of there!”

“He’s mine! My prey!” Bela hisses, advancing on the man again. Fear beats in your chest. You’ve never seen your sisters outmatched, but this man is too smart, and Bela is at a severe disadvantage in the room with broken windows. “How dare you bare your teeth at us!” She launches herself at the manthing again, and you watch his blood drip from your sister’s blade.

You’ve hunted with your sisters before. You’ve seen humans face death more times than you could count. You know how pain looks on their faces.

This man barely flinches as he pushes your sister back into the swirling snowflakes coming through the window. His face is set in a mask of determination, as he reloads his weapon and levels it again at Bela. This is no human like you’ve hunted before.

“Bela!” you scream, and throw one of your knives.

It sinks into the manthing’s thigh, and he hisses, pausing to pull it out and toss it aside. That brings your sister enough time to swoop towards him, but she’s moving more slowly in the cold air. The stranger manages to get his weapon back up before she can hit him, and fires straight into Bela’s face.

Both of you scream in unison, and you run forward into the room. The cold air prickles at your arms, but it doesn’t debilitate you the same way it does your sisters. You tug Bela backwards, as she writhes and hisses against your grip.

“Bela, find the others!” you yell. “Get out of here!”

The manthing seems to have finally picked you up as a threat. The next shot goes through your calf, and you lurch to the floor with a shout.

“How dare you!” Bela screeches, and throws herself again at the stranger.

You manage to get to your feet, and stumble towards the door. If you and Bela can get on the other side and then lock the manthing in the basement, Mother can deal with him without fear of the cold air or his stupid bullets. She is stronger than your sisters, stronger than anyone else.

Bela takes two more shots to her chest and begins retreating after you. You know that your sisters are unused to running from fights, but you don’t want to risk anything with this strange manthing who pulls knives out of his leg and tosses them aside without hesitation.

Another shot clips your shoulder, and your shaky grip on your adult headspace falls away. You topple to the ground, unable to stand the pain in your left leg.

You hear a scream, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s coming from you. You take your fear, your pain, and give it a voice. It echoes through the hallways.

“Mommy!”

The manthing seems to hesitate as your scream echoes around him.

You take the chance to throw another two knives. It’s a sloppy attempt, thrown haphazardly from the floor in pure self-defence. But they both strike true, one between his lower ribs and the other just above the mark from the first knife.

Red fluid seeps from him, dripping onto the tile.

He stumbles backwards, pulling a green bottle from his pocket and pouring its contents over his leg as he yanks the knife out. You watch as the blood is washed away, and the wounds close.

He came prepared.

“Ethan Winters!” a familiar voice snaps, and you almost collapse from pure relief. Mommy.

Mommy drifts in from the kitchen, ducking through the gated doorway and ushering Bela behind her. Bela is still snarling, but she’s clearly hurt, and allows her mother to push her back.

“You sneak into my house, you attack my daughters, youngest and eldest alike?”

The manthing fires his weapon again, directly into her chest, and you cover your ears against the noise. It echoes against the walls and although you know it can’t hurt Mommy, it scares you to see him try.

“You bring your filthy body to my property, you draw blood from my baby, and then you dare to raise your weapon to me?”

You haven’t seen Mommy this angry… ever. Her claws are extended, her back rigid as she faces down the man named Ethan Winters. Bela’s arms wrap around you and she drags you away from the fight. The movement jostles your wounded leg, and you cry out in spite of yourself, trying to twist out of Bela’s grasp.

Mommy looks back towards you. The man takes her lapse of attention as a chance to pull out a heavier gun, firing straight at her head.

It does nothing.

Mommy stands tall, in the face of bullets, in the swirling snow, and her claws flex as she looks down at the manthing in front of her.

Now, Ethan Winters looks scared. Now, Ethan Winters looks human.

“I would love to take my time and truly teach you a lesson,” Mommy purrs, reaching out to grab the manthing by the throat. “But my daughters need my attention, and I am… a doting mother. So I’m afraid this will have to be quick.”

Blood is all around you, in the Dimitrescu Castle. Big or small, old or young, you’re no stranger to violence.

You still find yourself covering your eyes as Mommy tears the strange man to shreds. You can hear her spitting out pieces of him, making sounds of disgust. His blood must not be good.

“Bela, come feed. You need the replenishment.”

Mommy drags what remains of the body into the kitchen, where Bela is safely resting, away from the cold air that fills the room where you sit.

You hear your sister begin to drink.

“Darling, are you alright?”

Mommy’s arms wrap around you, careful not to jostle your injuries.

Tearfully, you shake your head. You were scared, and Bela almost died. If you had stayed in your room and hidden like Mommy had said, you were sure that your sister would have been gone. You had almost both been killed, and if Mommy had been slower….

“M’sorry,” you sob, turning into the embrace. “I left.”

“And I’m very upset that you put yourself in danger, but I am not going to scold you right now. May I carry you to your room? You need medicine.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Mommy cradles you and carefully picks you up. Your dress is ruined, covered in grime and blood. You look over and see Bela crouched over a body. It’s suddenly easier to breathe once you see its face, blank and staring. The manthing doesn’t look special as a corpse. Just another dead human.  

You turn your face into Mommy’s chest, and she presses a hand to the back of your head, keeping you there. The smell of copper blood fades as she carries you out of the kitchen and down the hall to your room. Mommy doesn’t take the shortcuts like you and your sisters. They’re much too small and dirty for her.

That thought makes you laugh.

“Is my little one amused?” Mommy asks, petting your scalp with gloved fingers.

“Mmm, m’small and dirty,” you giggle.

“You are very small and very dirty. A bath is in order for both of us once your wounds are tended to.” That sounds like heaven to your exhausted mind.  

Mommy shoulders your door open, splintering the lock, and lays you on the bed. You whine as she moves away from you, reaching towards her.

“I’ll be back in a moment, darling. Are mama o fetiţă, cat un ghemotoc, are mama o fetiţă, cuminţică foc,” Mommy begins to sing as she makes her way around the room, gathering supplies. You relax, her voice reassuring you that she’s still nearby.

Soon, she’s back, sitting at the foot of your bed. There’s a bottle of first aid fluid in her hand, like the one the manthing used.

“This will sting, but it will help.” Mommy takes your foot in her hand, and carefully unbuckles your shoe. It looks tiny in her hand, like a doll’s shoe. Dropping it to the ground, she pulls down your stocking to reveal the wound in your calf.

You turn your face away, whining at the sight of the blood streaking your skin.

“Hush, darling.” You feel lips against the wound, a brief flare of pain as she presses against it. She makes a soft sound, and you look down to watch her lick your blood from her lips. “Don’t look,” Mommy tells you, and you close your eyes again.

Then she pours something on your leg, and everything is pain.

You twist in her grip, crying out, and she holds you down.

“I know, darling, I know. It will pass. I’m sorry.” More pain, this time radiating from your shoulder. You try to kick out, and she catches your feet. “I’ve got you. Breathe, little one. It will pass.”

And sure enough, after what feels like an eternity, the pain begins to lift. You can feel your fingers again, and your toes. Your body is more than a twisting line of agony. The ache becomes gentler, and eventually it lifts all together.

You lie on the bed, feeling the tears streaking your face, and you hear Mommy sigh in relief.

“There, all done.”

She gathers you onto her lap, and you lie passively in her arms, too exhausted to do anything else.

“My brave girl,” she praises, kissing your forehead. “My brave, brave daughter. I’m so proud of you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

“M’sorry.” You know she was worried about you. You can still hear it in her voice.

“No, darling, I’m sorry. I should have found him and… well. He shouldn’t have been able to hurt you. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Mommy rocks you back and forth, gently, and you can tell that your body has been healed. There is no pain in your leg, no pain in your shoulder. “I promise.”

“Love you.” There are so many things you want to say, but you’re tired and little and you just want to take a bath with Mommy and have a bottle and fall asleep in her arms.

“I love you more.”

She holds you tight, close enough that you can hear the doubled, inhuman heartbeat thrumming in her chest. Close enough that you can feel the unnatural heat of her skin. Close enough that you feel at home.

--

A/N: The song that Alcina sings is in Romanian, but I think it’s a translation of an English song. If anyone knows a traditional Romanian lullaby, I’d be happy to replace it. The lyrics translate as

“Mommy has a little girl, as small as a ball of fur Mommy has a little girl, and she’s a very good girl.”  

I do have a fluffier, lighter sequel to this story planned, so let me know if you’d like to read it!

[thatrandomwriter]

Taken Prisoner

Merle Dixon x female reader, set in Woodbury

Warnings : cursing, sexual language, violence

After checking several nearby stores and having one too many close calls with walkers, Glenn and I had finally found what we were looking for - baby formula for Judith. Maggie had offered to come too, but she was far better with the baby so it was just Glenn and I.

“We should get back, don’t wanna keep Judith waiting,” I said, eager to get out of the open and back to safety. You never could be too cautious.

Glenn nodded. I reached down, packing my bag and checking to ensure my gun was secure in my waistband, along with the couple of knives I had concealed about my person. It had become an unconscious habit of mine to check for them all every few minutes or so, just in case. Distracted, I didn’t hear anyone approaching until a confusingly familiar voice made me snap around, “Now where is it y’all good people calling home?” A man was approaching from behind a van parked a few abandoned cars away. A man I would recognise anywhere, and as his eyes caught mine, I could see recognition slide over Merle’s face as he realised who I was.

“Merle? You’re alive?” Glenn was as shocked as me, but seemed to find words far quicker. He was also quicker to hostility, hand twitching to his gun, but guns were the last thing on my mind.

I stepped towards Merle, a walk that transformed quickly into a jog and then a run as I flung myself into his arms, relief and happiness entirely overwhelming the rational side of my mind. He hugged me back immediately, muscular arms enveloping me, holding me tight and secure to his chest. We had been close when we had camped outside the city; he was the one who had brought me to the group. Probably only because he thought I was fuckable. But after a couple of weeks, what was once shameless flirting turned into a real friendship. And of course, I had always been too proud to admit that I might be interested in Merle as more than a friend. In the end though, none of that had mattered when he was handcuffed to the roof and seemingly gone for good. I had thought I would never see him again, and I had never been more overjoyed to be wrong.

We finally broke apart, but only by a few centimetres.

“Missed me?” He grinned the infuriating grin that I suddenly realised I didn’t find infuriating anymore, a reminder of how much I had missed everything about him.

His smiling eyes suddenly glazed over, expression dropping to a neutral mask as he stared over my shoulder. I turned and his arms dropped from my body. Six or so men, all armed with guns, all pointed at Glenn, whose gun had been confiscated, and at me. For a moment I thought they were strangers, but one glance back at Merle told me all I needed to know. He had drawn his gun too, but it wasn’t pointed at any of the strangers.

It was pointed directly at me.

For a moment, I froze in shock. Only for a moment. As soon as I had come fully to me senses, I raised my hands in surrender, backing away from Merle and in the direction of the strangers. Slow enough for it to look like scared confusion. As soon as I was within a metre of them, I nodded at Glenn, a warning before I darted towards the armed men, flicking a knife out of my sleeve and into my hand and in one smooth motion slitting the throat of the man closest to me. He fell to the ground, choking and spluttering. Glenn hit one of the men hard in the nose and then in the gut. I moved to the next, holding a knife to his throat, about to slice into his jugular.

“Hold on there honey, don’t make any stupid decisions,” Merle had a gun pressed into the back of Glenn’s head. Some part of me had thought that somehow, if we had managed to take on the strangers, Merle would have taken our side. Clearly I had been sorely mistaken. There was no way out of this. It was two to four, plus the man Glenn had attacked who was slowly standing back up.

I dropped the knife, and then the gun in my waistband. They didn’t need to know about the other knives I had hidden.

“Check she doesn’t have anything else hidden on her. Wouldn’t want a repeat of Bentley.” One of the strangers commanded. I assumed Bentley was the man whose throat I had slit. I felt a strange sense of pride that even though I had been overpowered, I hadn’t given in without a fight.

“Sure thing, Martinez,” Another man answered and stepped forward and roughly patted me down, fishing out my two remaining knives from my clothing. So much for keeping them hidden.

Glenn and I were shoved roughly into the back of a truck with three guns pointed at us as we were driven away, Merle and Martinez in the front. The drive gave me time to realise how stupid I had been, trusting Merle despite having no idea where he had been for all the time we had been apart. Of course he had found another group - how would he have survived cutting off his own hand otherwise? Glenn hadn’t been as stupid as me. He had known straight away that Merle wasn’t to be trusted. If only I had followed his instincts instead of mine, then this never would have happened. I managed to catch his eye, and mouthed ‘I’m so sorry,’ in his direction. He shrugged. Not an angry shrug, more of a ‘what did you expect?’ sort of motion. Somehow his acceptance of the situation made it worse.

When the truck finally stopped, we were roughly guided forward again, this time down some stairs and a few grimy corridors to two rooms. They pushed Glenn into one, me into another, and I heard him struggle and groan as the thuds of fists and feet hitting flesh filled the air.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, hurt me instead, please, please just leave him alone,” I yelled out, hoping that by some miracle I would be listened to, but no response. Just more of the horrible sounds coming from Glenn’s cell.

*

It had been at least a day- there was no daylight down here, but that was my best estimate. Martinez had come into my cell a few times, but I had not suffered half as much as Glenn had. Even so, I was painfully sore and covered in blood and bruises. I was sure more of me was bruised than not. But they seemed to have realised pretty quickly that neither of us would give up where we were staying, and at this point Martinez seemed more concerned with hurting us than with finding out where Glenn and I had come from. I hadn’t seen Merle since the drive to wherever we were. Part of me was glad,but some foolish part of me thought that maybe if he saw what was happening to me, he would help me. I knew that this was stupid, but I could help but hold on to that tiny, ridiculous hope.

A few hours passed and it had been a while since anyone had come into mine or Glenn’s cells when an unfamiliar man entered my cell, followed by Merle who was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Now here’s what’s about to happen. You’re going to tell me exactly where you and your friend have been staying and how many people you have. Understand?” While he looked unfamiliar, I recognised his voice from hearing him give orders to Martinez and the other men who had imprisoned Glenn and I. He was the Governor.

I scoffed, glaring up at him and Merle who was deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“You wanna play it like that? Be my guest.” The governor, still calm collected, turned to Merle.

“You know what to do,” he said, and Merle nodded, leaving towards Glenn’s cell. Obedient and quiet - two words I never would’ve dreamed could describe Merle.

I began to hear muffled groans of pain from Glenn, making me wince with every sound. I deserved this, not him. The governor smiled at me, watching my obvious distress.

“Leave him alone.” I demanded, only succeeding in making his smile wider.

“You know what you need to do, then I promise, we’ll leave him alone,” he moved forward, uncomfortably close, “Or maybe you need a little more persuasion? You know, it’s surprising how long a person can survive without their eyes. Or their feet. Or even their hands - isn’t that right Merle?” he called out the last part to the opposite cell.

“Sure is boss,” The first time I’d heard Merle speak since getting here.

“Now I’m sure you know what I’m getting at, but just in case, I’ll be clear. Merle is pretty handy with a hacksaw as I’m sure you know, and while we need you and your friend to be able to talk, we really don’t need you for anything else. So if him losing a hand, or both, or even worse, would get you talking then I’m sure we can all agree it would be worth that sacrifice.”

He wasn’t bluffing. He opened his mouth to yell the order to Merle, but I interrupted, “The prison. We’re at the prison. Please, please just leave him alone, you don’t need to do this. Please.” My resilience had broken. We could defend the prison. We could. But I couldn’t listen to Glenn getting tortured for any longer. I just couldn’t.

The governor chuckled. “Thank you, wasn’t so hard now was it.” He got close again, and in a sudden move he struck me across the face. Hard. For a moment, the world blurred with dark spots, before I lost my vision completely and fell into darkness.

*

I could feel myself being jostled in the arms of someone carrying me. They felt familiar, and I spent a few seconds trying to place who it was, still not fully conscious. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and saw Merle’s determined expression. He glanced down at me, but before I could ask him what the fuck was going on, I fell into darkness again.

*

The next time I began to be aware of my surroundings I felt the thin, scratchy softness of a prison mattress. Slowly, I opened my eyes, this time managing to hold onto consciousness. When I sat up, I saw Merle sat at the end of my bed. Hunched over - sleeping, I assumed. Looking around, I recognised my old cell. Finally something I could use to my favour. I reached under my pillow and grasped the familiar handle of my final knife, which thankfully hadn’t been moved.

I pushed the knife to Merle’s throat. His eyes snapped open, and he raised the blade attached where his hand once was, before relaxing when he recognised me.

“What the fuck, Merle. What the fuck!”

“Calm down honey - saved your life, didn’t I?”

“Oh that’s what you call it? You took me prisoner and watched the shit get beaten outta me and somehow you’re the hero?” I pushed the knife harder against his neck and I could tell how much he was struggling against himself not to fight back. That made me even more angry. What made him think I couldn’t kill him right then and there if I wanted to?

“I didn’t have a choice. But I got ya outta there, that count for nothing?”

I continued to glare at him. He smirked at me, infuriating and insanely attractive all at the same time, before gripping my wrist and pushing me back against the wall, forcing me to drop my knife.

“I saved yer ass, didn’t have to, but I did. The governor, he saved my life, but I chose you for fuck’s sake. I missed ya, didn’t you miss me?”

Of course I did.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” This was probably the first time I’d heard him apologise for anything.

Of course I’d missed him. A lot. And some part of me knew that he was being sincere, that he had missed me and mourned me as much as I had him. I had missed him more than anyone else we had lost, and I had no idea what I’d do if I lost him again. But I’d always been terrible at putting those feelings into words. So when I finally kissed him, I hoped I got the sentiment across. It took him a moment to register what was happening, but when he did his good hand cupped my face, sliding to my back to pull me closer into him, while his other arm braced against the wall behind me. He had released my arms, so I let my hands wander his torso, something I had longed to do for far longer than I was willing to admit. His mouth was rough and hard against mine, his teeth scraping my lower lip, stubble scratching my face. It was a sensation I had imagined so many times, it was hard to believe it was real. That Merle, obnoxious, stubborn, perfect Merle was kissing me, and I was kissing him back with all I had.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 6

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, suicidal thoughts.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your situation becomes even clearer

Note: I’ve been working my ass off but I managed to eke this out after sleeping off the pain.

I appreciate y’all reading and your reactions have been the highlight of writing!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

A tray of food sat untouched just inside the door. Its predecessor had been retracted with a sigh from the other side and replaced with a fresh meal. You had refused either, only drinking the water as you kept mostly to the bed.

When you moved, it reminded you of what Bucky had done to you. The tender cuts throbbed and you hissed through your teeth as you hugged your only pillow in an effort to get warm. You’d even torn the fitted sheet from the mattress and wrapped yourself in it.

You cleaned your cuts carefully every now and then and replaced the bandages. Mostly, you stared at the wall or that little lens above the door. He was watching you. Always. The thought made you shudder and kept you awake when your body tried to coax you to sleep. Those minutes that you did manage to rest were sparse and disjointed.

When at last the door did open again, you didn’t flinch. You stayed as you were, sat on the bed against the wall with the sheet draped over you. You kept your head down as the tray was carefully pushed by the door and lifted by your visitor. Footsteps neared you and he cleared his throat. You finally looked up, startled by Steve’s gentle blue eyes.

He held the tray in one arm and a quilt folded over the other.

“You should eat,” he placed the food before you. His eyes lingered on the bandages and he gave a sad smile. He turned and placed the blanket on the foot of bed. “If you do, I’ll take you for a shower.”

You scowled and crossed your arms over your knees. You looked away. You shook your head as tears picked at your eyes. You sniffed.

“Of course you’re in on it,” you croaked. “Of course… I’m so stupid.”

He exhaled and the mattress dipped as he sat. “Will you eat for me?”

“Don’t… don’t talk to me like that. We’re not friends.” You hissed as you kept your eyes averted. “We never were. I was just your victim. Your plaything. So,” you gritted your teeth. “What you do want from me, huh? Don’t worry, Bucky’s already softened me up for you.”

“Shhhh,” he reached over and touched your knee, his touch warm through the thin sheet. “I’m not a monster.”

“No, just the monster’s assistant.”

“I brought you a blanket and you have food. It’ll only get worse if you’re stubborn.” He warned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You snapped and finally looked at him again. “How can you-- Did you help kill those girls? You must’ve done something. Helped him set me up. Maybe it was you on the phone--”

“I did what Bucky needed me to do.” He said evenly. “You don’t understand, sweetie--”

“Don’t.” You bit out. “Don’t call me that.”

He pressed his lips together before he continued and his eyebrow twitched slightly. “Bucky’s sick and those girls are just another symptom. What was done to him, it changed him and I’ve watched him fight to control it and he only finds that control with you.”

“No, no, that’s bullshit.”

“If you’re so worried about those other girls, if you feel bad about them at all, you will help Bucky.”

“Help him?” You scoffed. “You’re both insane.”

“If you help him,” he carried on, “He won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Just me?”

“No, no, that’s not-- I didn’t know he was going to use knives.”

“It didn’t matter, did it? He still did it.”

Steve chewed his lip. You shoved his hand away from your leg and sidled away from him. He huffed and stood. He moved the tray across the bed. His hands went to his hips as he watched you.

“You can eat when you get back but you should shower.” He said. “Keep yourself clean, maybe get warmed up.”

You shrugged and rubbed your cheek. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Look, I’m trying to help you,” he neared and bent to catch your eye, “It will be good to stretch your legs.”

“Just leave me alone. Let me die down here. We both know that’s how this ends.” You snarled.

He twined his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “I can and will make you but I didn’t come here to hurt you so I’ll give you one more chance.”

You blinked at him and tilted your head. His fingers bent slightly and you knew he meant it. Your thighs rubbed together and reminded you of your cuts. You couldn’t handle much more pain. You looked away and made your way off the bed, keeping the sheet around you snugly.

“Can I have some clothes, too?” You asked.

“I tried but… right now, that’s not going to happen.” He took your arm gently and led you to the door. Your legs were stiff and slow but he was patient as he opened the door. “But I’ll ask again, okay?”

You were silent as he took you into the hall. He turned you and guided you away from your cell.

“You know, a blanket and clothes… it doesn’t make you any better than him.” You said.

He stopped in front of a sliding metal door and hooked his fingers in the handle. He pulled it open, inside was a shower in the closet-like space and nothing else. Just a showerhead and cold tiles. A neat line of bottles sat atop a single shelf.

“But it might make me preferable to him,” he leaned in. “I can be a lot nicer.”

You searched his face and his eyes slipped to the top of the sheet. He reached over and tugged on a wrinkle of fabric.

“You’ll have to leave this with me. I’ll get you a towel.”

You shivered as he pulled harder and you let go of the sheet. You couldn’t look at him as you were left entirely naked. His fingers tickled your hips and he nudged you into the shower.

“Take your time,” he cooed. 

He pulled the door shut with an echoing clang. The latch twisted into place to secure the door and a little flicked on. You stared at the showerhead but could not figure how to turn it on. It suddenly shook and burst to life; you realised it was controlled from outside.

Steam rose around you and enveloped you in the tight space. Despite your circumstance, the water was soothing. You reached for the strawberry scented soap and scrubbed yourself, peeling away the bandages as they began to wilt. You felt as if you couldn’t get clean but you tried desperately.

You paused as you heard voices. You stepped closer to the door as they were muffled by the metal and the steady buzz of the shower.

“Come on, Buck. We had a deal. I didn’t do all this for nothing.” Steve said.

“She’s mine,” Bucky growled. “I told you.”

“You know I won’t be too rough. Not like you.” 

“Why? You didn’t even want to do this in the first place?”

There was a silence, then a soft chuckle. “She’s sweet and my cock’s been hurting for days.”

“She’s not some toy.”

“Isn’t she?”

There was a sigh and a tisk.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky. I helped you clean up all those messes and I get what? You haven’t even said thank you. Not once.”

Another silence as you held your breath. It disgusted you to think they were bartering over you like an object.

“No cutting.” Bucky said tersely.

“Not into that,” Steve retorted.

“And don’t even go near her ass.”

“Aww…” Steve bemoaned.

“No kissing on the lips. You get one hour.”

“Can I dress her up?” Steve asked, his voice laced with sinister glee.

“Fine, but take the clothes with you after.”

“See, Buck, isn’t that what friends do? Share?”

You shoved yourself away from the door. You were breathless and weak. This couldn’t be real. None of it. It was so fucked up. It had to be a nightmare.

The showerhead died and the lock clicked. The door opened suddenly and the steam cleared. Bucky unfolded a towel and held it out. You quivered but made yourself step out. He wrapped your wordlessly in the fluffy towel and looked to Steve.

“Take her back to her room then.” He said sternly.

You snarled as Steve neared and for a moment you were sandwiched between the two men. As you turned, you looked at Bucky in the face, a wrinkle set deep in his forehead as he watched you.

“You’re a fucking monster,” you spat, “I fucking hate you.”

His jaw ticked and his nostrils flared. He stared at you then slowly looked behind you at Steve and nodded.

“Two hours.” He smirked, “And don’t be afraid to leave some marks.”

Steve ushered you away from Bucky. You dragged your feet as you let him and he stopped you before the same door with the slot. He reached out and touched your bare shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetie,” he purred and you curled your lip, “Bucky said I can bring you some clothes.”

“Oh, I know exactly what Bucky said,” you huffed.

His brows shot up and he snickered. “Ah, well then, you’ll be ready when I return, won’t you?” He opened the door and held it open. “Don’t forget to eat. You’ll need your energy.”

You frowned as he waved you inside and you turned to watch him as you entered. He smirked and gave a wink before he closed the door. You trembled as the cold crept up your legs and rolled down your spine.

You looked up at the camera. You knew Bucky would watch. He had never stopped watching you.

👁️

The deep, unyielding pain in your stomach made you eat. It might have been dread more than hunger but your head wasn’t so hazy as before. You set aside the tray in the corner and hugged the damp towel around you. You weren’t eager for Steve’s return but you were waiting for him because you knew it was inevitable.

You sat on the edge of the bed and rocked. They couldn’t just leave you like this all the time. With nothing but time and white walls as you braced for their next appearance. You would go mad. You felt it already.

When the door jerked, you did too, but you didn’t look over as Steve entered. You could smell his cologne and the fruity scent of the soap lingering on your skin. He inhaled deeply as the door closed behind him and he walked decisively to the end of the bed. In the corner of your eye, you saw him set something there.

“You smell nice,” he said. “I brought you something to wear.”

“Okay,” you grumbled and didn’t move.

He stood in silence. Waiting. “Well…”

“I know why you’re here so what’s the point?” You hissed.

“Why I’m here is exactly the point. Get dressed, sweetie.”

“Stop calling me that!” You turned to face him. “Stop. Just do what you’re going to do and go.”

“Not until you get dressed,” he said in a low voice as he came closer and bent before you. He stared into your eyes and swallowed. “I don’t want this to be difficult and I know you don’t either but it really doesn’t matter to me either way.”

You squirmed and looked back at him. You clung to the towel with one hand and pushed yourself up with the other. He slowly backed away as you stood and you rounded the end of the bed. You scooped up the clothes and headed for the washroom. You could feel him smiling at you.

You closed the door and put the clothes on the tank of the toilet. You dropped the towel and lifted the first piece. A sheer white blouse with a round high counter. You eyed it and bent to sort through the fabric. Satin panties, matching bra, garter belt, stockings, heels… the blouse and the skirt had a vintage feel to them. The attire was straight out of the pin-up era.

You dressed reluctantly. The panties were too small and kept riding up, the bra was uncomfortable and the underwire painful. The blouse was easy enough to see through and the heels made you clumsy.

You took a breath before you reached for the door. You stepped through and kept your chin down. Steve gave a hum.

“You look lovely,” he purred.

You ignored him and folded your hands. You kept as far from him as you could in the small room.

“Well…” he began, “Come here. I want you to undress me.”

You gulped and edge around the bed to where he stood. You hesitated and he grabbed your chin. He forced your head up and smirked down at you.

“The longer you drag this out, the less restraint I’ll have.”

You said nothing and ran your fingers along the hem of his shirt. He leaned down and helped you lift it up his arms and over his head. His broad chest was bared and his muscled stomach flexed as he stood straight. He shifted and forced his shoes off with his toes. Your hands fell to his belt and he groaned. You paused before you fumbled with the buckle.

“I really wanted to fuck you in the kitchen but Bucky doesn’t trust you upstairs,” Steve ran his hands down your arms. “But if you’re good, I might be able to convince him.”

You were quiet. You couldn’t think of words. You could barely keep from collapsing entirely. As you unzipped Steve’s pants you thought of Bucky stripping at the end of the bed, of the way he admired his knives before he chose one, at your blood dripping down his chin. You yanked Steve’s jeans down and stepped back.

“You’re not done, sweetie.” He taunted.

“Why?” You rasped. “Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to be good. You’re a hero.”

“I earned this.” He grabbed your hands and placed them on the top of his briefs. “I’ve saved enough lives to claim one.”

You shook and grasped the elastic. You didn’t look as you pulled it away from his waist and angled it over his obvious bulge. You let them drop down to his feet and rescinded your hands with a whimper.

“I can’t--”

He kicked away his brief and peeled off his socks. He came closer and you retreated until your legs hit the bed.

“Shhh, let me lead you,” he touched your chin and leaned in. He stopped himself and took a deep breath. “God, look at you.”

He cupped your tits through the blouse and squeezed. “It used to be that men were expected to keep women. Pretty little housewives; obedient, docile.”

You grabbed his wrists and your lip quivered. “Steve, you don’t have too--”

“Do you know what husbands would do to rebellious wives?” He asked. “Do you?”

You shook your head and clung to him, afraid you would fall back onto the bed.

“Let me show you, sweetie,” he ran his hands down your sides, “I’ll show you how to be a good little wife.” His hands stretched over your hips, “Turn around.” He spun you, “Hands on the bed.”

You bent without thinking. Even after all that had happened, you were still terrified. What worse could he do to you then had already been done?

His hands went to your ass and he kneaded through the skirt. He rubbed along your thighs and pushed his crotch against you as he reached to the hem. He raised it as he rocked against you and slipped it over the curve of your ass. His fingers danced on the satin and tickled the top of your thighs.

He pressed his hand across your ass. “Every woman needs her lessons.”

He pulled his hand back and struck you. Hard. Your legs shook and the pain reverberated through your body. You let out a whimper and he did it again, the slap echoed off the walls. You dug your fingertips into the top of the mattress. A third time. Again, again, again. You lost count as fire singed your nerves.

He didn’t stop until your legs slid out from beneath you and you clung to the bed weakly. He tutted and lifted your hips back until you set your feet again. He gripped the top of the skirt and tore. The fabric fell away from your body and the blouse slackened around your middle.

He felt along the panties and rubbed between your legs. He prodded at your cunt through the satin and you felt the slickness spread along the inside. You were ashamed as he pulled the crotch aside and dragged his finger through your arousal.

“Women need discipline. They crave it.” He flicked your clit and you moaned. “See?”

“Please--”

“Please?” He mimicked. “What do you want? You want me inside you?”

You shook your head and tried to stand. He pulled his hand from your cunt and caught the back of your neck and forced you back down. He pushed you until you were on your stomach, your legs hanging over the side of the bed. He bent over you and his hot breath grazed your cheek.

“Turn over, sweetie,” he ordered, “I’ll show you how to serve a man.”

You quaked but couldn’t move. He turned you over roughly and you bounced on the bed. He climbed over you swiftly and held your head between his hands. He pinned down your shoulder with his legs, his knees above them, as his cock bobbed over your face. You writhed beneath him and he easily kept you in place.

He lifted your head as he angled his cock against your lips. You closed your mouth and he pushed harder.

“Be a good wife,” he grunted, “Come on, open up.”

You opened your mouth and he slid inside. You were dizzy and out of breath with his weight across your shoulders and chest. He dipped deeper and poked at your throat. He forced himself as far as he could you and you gagged as he leaned forward. He planted a hand on the mattress as he pulled his hips back and thrust. You choked again and he groaned.

“You can do it, sweetie,” he moved slowly, “Just like that.”

Your spit gathered along your lip as he fucked your face. You struggled to breath around him but your struggle only seemed to encourage him. He moved his pelvis fast and harder until the bed was bouncing violently beneath your bodies. 

You slapped at his legs as he ignored your gasps and gags. You kicked out, your feet sliding over the floor as you tried to wriggle free. He sank into you entirely and snarled. He took a breath as he held himself there.

“Should I come down your throat? Already?” He growled. “I could…”

You murmured around his cock and he chuckled. He pulled out slowly and pushed himself off of you. He bounced beside you as he hung his legs over the edge of the bed and winced. 

“Fuck, it hurts so bad.” He pet your thigh as he caught his breath. “I’ve been saving it for you.���

You took frantic breath and he pinched your leg. He stood and hummed. He turned and stroked himself as he faced you.

“Turn over again.” He bid.

Your heart pounded in your temples as you dizzily rolled over. You were too senseless to resist. If you did as he said, it might be over soon. He grabbed your hips and drew you onto your feet as he lifted your ass. You kept your hands on the bed as you struggled to keep yourself up.

He bent his knees as he poked around with his cock and dragged his tip along the satin. He hooked his finger in the fabric and pushed it aside as he pressed himself against your cunt. He impaled you a little at a time, pausing to bask in each inch until he filled you up completely.

His grip tightened on your hip and he began to move you against him. Your toes barely met the floor as he slid you up and down his length. Each time, his flesh clapped against your ass as the panties twisted painfully.

“Tell me you like my dick,” he snarled. You murmured and shook your head. “Tell me!” He barked.

“I-- I-- I like your dick.” You sputtered.

“Mmmhmm,” he rutted into you even harder. “Tell me you love me inside of you, sweetie.”

You whined as your thighs tingled and tensed in tortured pleasure. “I love… love you inside me.”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he sped up again, slamming into your already raw ass. “Tell me you love me. You love me, don’t you?”

“Wha--”

“Say it.” He demanded.

“I l-love you,” you gasped as your eyes rolled back and the waves crested. “I love you.”

“Fuck, I can feel you cumming all over me,” he purred as wet noises filled the air. “Fuck, look at you, sweetie.”

You groaned as your arms bent beneath you and you leaned on your elbows as he lifted your ass even higher, his hands slipping to your thighs as he pushed your legs back against his.

“You like to make me happy, hmm? You like being my pretty little wife.” He hammered into you as his voice grew deep and fractured. “I’m gonna cum in you, sweetheart.”

“N-n-no,” your head rolled back and forth on the bed as you were helpless against him.

“You want me to make you a mommy?” He slithered. “You could grow big for daddy.”

He shoved you forward suddenly and fell atop you. He crushed you beneath him as he kept his hips moving and fucked you into the mattress. He slid his arm under your neck and squeezed. He jolted into you painfully as you spasmed once more in reviled delight.

“Here I go,” he uttered. “Daddy’s cumming.”

He grunted and your walls milked him as you felt his heat spill into you. You grabbed at his arm as your head began to throb and the cuts that lined your flesh burned. You felt everything, the pain, the pleasure, the despair, the fear, the hopelessness all at once. 

And when he stopped, all your strength was sapped from you. Still deep inside you, he dragged his arm from beneath you and held himself over you as he watched his cock slipped from your cunt. His cum spilled out and coated your folds and seeped into the panties. 

The mattress shifted and he grabbed the back of your blouse along the collar. “Take this off…” He tugged. “Then get in daddy’s lap.”

[deascheck]

Problem Solved

Prompt: "Whatever that thing is, it is not what we are looking for so, Dean put it down immediately! Cas stop fooling around like an idiot, and Sam, what the hell are you even doing?"

Summary: The reader’s hands are full when Dean, Sam, and Cas are all affected by an object cursed by the witch they’re hunting.

Word Count: 1553

Trigger warnings: Death, brief mention of blood

A/N: Would love to know what you think! Comments and reblogs are amazing!

Edited by @winchest09

--------

You glanced at Sam as he picked the lock with nimble, practiced fingers. A slight smile ghosted across your face as you checked the yard and surrounding properties for any witnesses. There wasn’t a lock that Sam couldn’t pick. 

Dean and Cas had split off and gone around back. The house was huge, with cameras everywhere. The property was thick with flowers and plants surrounding the house, making it easy for the two large men to hide as they worked their way over to the security box. 

The lock clicked, and you and Sam crept forward through the door. Guns drawn, you moved around each other with practiced ease. Thanks to Dean’s ungodly ability to flirt, the four of you had gotten blueprints of the house and had memorized them down to the last brick. You moved swiftly to the upstairs, followed by Sam. 

You knew the witch was home – you had seen her arrive. Stealth was key in this case. She’d killed eight people with hex bags already. They were gruesome, horrible deaths, and you wanted her dead like you’d never wanted anyone dead before. 

Once Dean and Cas had cleared the downstairs, they joined you and Sam upstairs. You peeled off towards the bedrooms with Dean, and Cas joined Sam. The hallways were dark, and there were nine doors to check behind. As Dean entered the master bedroom, you spared a glance over your shoulder towards the other two before you went with him. 

As you finished clearing it, trying not to bump into the bed, dresser, desk, or table, you heard a strange thump and then a yell. 

You and Dean barreled out of the room and down the hall. You skidded to a stop when you reached the open doorway and stared. Dean all but ran into you as his sprint was halted by your body blocking the door.

Cas had a stupidly silly smile spread across his face, and was dancing around in big circles with his hands waving in the air. Whereas, Sam had his mouth wide open and was measuring with his hands how big it was. 

Almost as soon as you’d taken in the ridiculous scene, Dean knocked you into the doorframe as he shoved forward, eager to figure out what was going on. He grabbed some sort of ancient looking scroll from Cas’s hand, and almost immediately started mirroring Sam’s actions.

“Dean!” you whispered angrily. “Dean, whatever that thing is, it’s not what we’re here for! Cas, stop fooling around like an idiot! And Sam, dude, what the hell are you even doing!?” You couldn’t believe you had this to deal with now. You had three men who were currently no better than children, and a dangerous witch you still hadn’t seen. 

Backing away, you shut the door quickly, hoping to contain the noise that Sam, Dean, and Cas were all making. With these circumstances, you’d do better against the witch on your own, which still didn’t mean things would go well.

As you turned around, you came face to face with a very smug looking woman. She had brown hair slightly past her shoulders, had a pretty, long face, and looked like she knew how to handle herself. It was the witch herself, Elizabeth.

“Shit,” you managed to get out before attempting to take a shot at her with your gun. She knocked it from your hands as you fired, spinning you into the wall. You retaliated by launching up and taking a swing at her with a mean right hook. She ducked, and you recovered quickly, doing your best to keep your back to the wall. The two of you fought your way down the hall. The blows and kicks were vicious, and you knew this wouldn’t end unless one of you was dead. If you could keep her busy enough to not say any incantations, you figured you might have a chance to extend your life by a few minutes, but without your gun, you weren’t sure how in the hell you were going to kill her.

The fight wore on, and it was becoming apparent that you were at a disadvantage. Primarily because Elizabeth knew the house best. Even having memorized the blueprints, there was a difference between studying the layout of a house and living in it. She knew when there was a corner to throw you against, a table to flip you over, curtains to tangle you in. You’d never admit it, but you were starting to wonder if she was in better shape than you. Being a hunter, you had your fair share of fights, but you’d always had Sam or Dean to come help take out whatever monstrosity you were fighting with.

With a loud smash, you went flying over the kitchen counter and hit the fridge with considerable force. As you lay on the ground, slightly stunned, you fisted your hands angrily, your fingers closing around something which caused you to glance down. It was a knife. 

You quickly scrambled to your feet with a maniacal grin across your face. Elizabeth advanced and you launched yourself at her, the knife coming into her view too late. You ran the blade right through her neck, forcing it through her windpipe and into the spinal vertebrae. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide, and her mouth moved like she was trying to speak. But instead of words leaving her mouth, it was blood. As crimson liquid dripped down from her mouth, you heard another commotion coming down the hall. Sam was weaving around in the hallway, smashing into the walls as hard as he could as he walked, chuckling stupidly. You sprinted over to him while the witch was in shock from your attack. You reached behind Sam’s waist to grab his gun, which was filled with witch-killing bullets. 

You heard her gurgle as you spun around and fired without hesitation. Elizabeth stared at you lifelessly before dropping to the floor. You smiled grimly at her and then kicked her hard with your booted foot. 

“That’s for the innocent people you killed, you bitch.”

You watched her for a minute, and then realized you weren’t hearing any stupid noises from Sam. You turned to look his way and saw him looking proudly at you. “Well done, Y/N. I can’t believe you killed her by yourself!” 

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe you let yourself get cursed when you knew we were in a witch’s house,” you teased.

As the beating you took stared to cause your body to ache something awful, you thought, Shit, this is gonna hurt tomorrow. 

Groaning to yourself, you walked back upstairs with Sam to find out what had befallen Dean and Cas. You opened the door, and immediately was knocked off your feet by two well built men falling out of the door.

All of you let out grunts and “oof”s as the three of you landed in a pile on the floor. Immediately on top of you was Dean. You looked at each other in surprise and relief. 

Both of you started talking at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing?” “How’re you still alive?” He laughed as you chuckled weakly. 

“Get off me you big lugs,” you moaned. They got up good-naturedly and looked at Sam, waiting to be told how the spell was broken.

Sam responded to their expectant looks by saying, “The only thing I can think of is that Elizabeth had cursed the scroll herself to cause whoever touched it to lose some sanity. But since it ended, I’m assuming that curse was tied to her life force.” He looked pensive and then shrugged. “I mean, kinda rare, but I’ll take it.”

Taking their pause as a cue, you spoke proudly, “I killed her.” Dean and Cas looked at you in shock. Continuing smugly, you said, “I mean, she was kicking my ass, let’s be real. But she made the mistake of throwing me over the kitchen counter.. By the knives.” You paused briefly to give them a knowing look and then kept going with your story. “So, I hit the fridge, and as I made a fist - cause man, am I pissed now! - my hand closes on a silver knife. How lucky was that!” You laughed. “I grab the knife, and launch myself at her before she can attack first. Got her right in the windpipe. Then Sam, who somehow got out of the room I shut y’all in, wandered right into my lap with his witch-killing bullets. Problem solved.” 

Sam gave you a hug and helped you up. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to help you, Y/N.” He looked at you proudly, but behind his eyes you could see guilt warring with pride.

“We’re proud of you, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it better ourselves,” Dean said, “C’mere!” He reached for you and grabbed you in a big bear hug. Squished against him, barely able to breath, you peeked over his shoulder, and saw Cas smiling softly at you. 

You extracted yourself from Dean’s hug, as much as you loved the rare moment, and gave Cas his turn. He let you go quickly, since he was still a bit of an awkward hugger. You chuckled, and said firmly, “Let’s go home, shall we?”

[my-simp-land]

Every Stitch With Love

been on a writing spree. tbh feelin lots of burnout from my other hobbies. welp here we are. this one feels more emotional. bucky and you come to an understanding. bucky x reader. 1690 words. noice

Being an Avenger meant that either all your time was taken up, or you had all the time in the world. There was never a casual day where you went to work in the day and hung out with friends in the evening. It was never go out for brunch then come back and do some paperwork. You were either swamped with field reports or had an empty desk.

However, you were never free enough to pick up a real hobby, like book club on Thursdays or pottery class on Saturdays. You were always a wrist flick away from being sent on a mission for days, weeks, or months. That meant getting creative with your free time. Most of the Avengers indulged in some work related hobby: Natasha did ballet, Steve went on runs, Tony working with his suits.

Working out has never been my favorite, so I had to get extra creative. Reading is usually reliable. It only sucks when you come back from a two month long mission to the last book of a seven book series with little to no knowledge of what’s happening. That’s always fun. Baking was fun, until you strike some bad luck and everything you make sucks.

I picked up a new hobby a few months ago though: embroidery. The texture of the fabric, the cool needle, the transformation. It was the perfect muscle memory hobby. You just follow the pattern. It gives your brain just enough of that itch to keep it happy, but it’s easy enough that you can just disconnect and autopilot the entire time.

At first, my room and the commons became littered with embroidery hoops with simple designs. It quickly transformed to patching peoples clothing. Suits were always professionally patched or replaced, but you’ve got that special shirt or pair of pants that you just can’t get rid of. From there, I quickly grew bored and started giving people extra designs with their patched clothing. Natasha usually got edgy things: knives, flowers, spiders. Wanda always got flowers with the flowy lines and designs. Cap and Sam got lots of stars with the occasional firework. Tony got the funny, immature designs. Soon, people were coming to me with designs. Natasha wanted a sweatshirt with an embroidered sleeve like a tattoo sleeve. Peter wanted a Spider-Man hoodie. Tony wanted matching pocket tees for him and Bruce. That inspired me to make matching pocket tees for Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

Everything in the past had always been fun and easy. Everything changed when I decided to make Bucky something. I nearly threw myself in the lake trying to come up with the design. Actually putting my designs on a shirt was entirely different. I spent countless days and nights trying to make it absolutely perfect. It basically meant I was holed up in my room for who knows how long to also keep it hidden from him.

Knock knock. “It’s me, Nat. Just checking in.”

“Come in.” Natasha slipped in and quickly closed the door. She scanned my room. Nearly every surface was covered with pieces of cardigan or string. “It looks like a confetti cannon went off in here but with your yarn stuff.”

“Thanks Tasha. I’ve only spent, oh I don’t know, thirteen days in here trying to get my design right.” I huffed and threw down the shirt; my head dropping to my hands. “I don’t get it. Why can’t I do this, Tasha. I’ve been embroidering for months, and suddenly, I woke up and can no longer do it.”

“Honey, you’re overworking yourself. You just need to take a break. Let yourself rest then try again in a week.”

“I can’t do that! I want this to be done by the time he gets back from his mission. It’s his first mission since he was freed. I know it can be hard. I just...I just want him to come back to something that shows him I’m here.”

Natasha couldn’t help but frown. Ever since Bucky had joined the team, you two had had a rough relationship. The two of you were very private and closed off. It almost felt like putting two brick walls in front of each other to converse. Soon, the two of you were able to find a solid middle ground, but it was still really hard some days. You both denied it, but the love between you two was undeniable. There was still a bit of growing before the relationship had enough foundation though.

“I’m sorry. I can always go and sabotage the mission. Make them have to stay longer to give you more time.”

“Good heavens, no! I wouldn’t want him to have to be out of his comfort zone for a moment longer than necessary. I’ll just- just give him the best product I have when he gets back. It’s only a few days now. I’ve got enough time to start a new one but that’s it.”

“That’s the spirit. You usually work well under pressure; I’ve seen you cook dinner. I know it will be perfect.”

“Thanks Tasha. Guess I need to make a trip into town.”

Today was the day. Bucky. Steve, and Sam should be arriving within the hour. Return day from a mission was always rough. It always seemed like the day could never end. I’ve spent all morning doing everything I can to prevent that. A warm chicken pot pie, comfy socks, fresh drinks, and a clean area always helped. It may have been influenced by some mania, but that’s for another time.

“Miss, the group will be here in approximately 15 minutes. They have a debriefing then they should be free for the remaining portion of the day.”

“Perfect. My pot pie will be out in just enough time. Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

15 minutes to finish preparations, take pot pie out of the oven, change into clean cosy clothes, dish out food, then spend the final minutes preparing myself.

“Welcome home guys!”

They were shocked to say the least. Usually everyone avoided each other on mission days. It was always awkward despite them all going through the relatively same thing.

“I made chicken pot pie and got some comfy clothes ready, so y’all can just pick up your stuff and head to your rooms for some decompression.” Steve and Sam quickly, but gratefully, grabbed their designated plate and clothes and headed to their rooms. Bucky lingered though.

“I- uh, thank you, doll. It was very kind of you to do all this.”

“It’s no trouble, Bucky. I- uh actually have something else for you. I’ve been working on it for a while.” I quickly grab the box on top of the fridge. “I wanted to make you something cozy. I know- um that we’ve had a rough time becoming friends, but I wanted something to say that I’m always there for you even if we aren’t together...ya know? Uh, here you go.”

Bucky stares down at the box for a long time. Like an awkward amount of time. Enough for Natasha to come into the kitchen, realize what was trying to happen, and quickly flee.

Finally, his hand reaches for the ribbon, gently pulling it from the delicate bow. He sets the ribbon on the counter behind him. He carefully removed the top to reveal the insid-oh god. That’s...that’s the wrong sweater. Oh no. No no no no no. This can’t be happening.

“Wait, You can’t look at that. That’s- that’s not right. I must’ve made a mist-”

“Doll?”

“Yes, Bucky?”

“You made this for me?”

“Yes. I’ve made countless variations. That one is just the first one. I promise if you let me go grab the right one you’ll love it ev-”

“Doll?”

“Yes, Bucky?”

“You made this for me. You created this. With the intention of giving to me.” I can see the tears begin to sparkle on the edges of his eyes. The blue becomes stormy. “You made this with thoughts of me. You said you made countless versions. You thought of me the entire time I was gone.” He unfolded the cardigan and holds it out in front of himself. “Just like I thought of you. Every second my mind was running back to you. I thought going on that mission would make me feel better; make me feel like I’m finally contributing towards bettering the world from myself. But I was wrong. I was better with you.” He slips the cardigan over his shoulders. It fits him just as I imagined. “I’m better with you. I’ll admit, therapy and my mission helped, but it’s you. Just knowing that you are in my corner, thinking of me and cheering me on...i just. You know?”

At this point, tears are streaming down both of our faces. We’ve had our moments of vulnerability but nothing like this. We both take that step forward into each other’s arms. We’re both engulfed with love. We squeeze each other, trying to get closer to one another. His scent engulfs me: his musky cologne and the sweat from his mission. His tears dampen my neck, but I imagine his neck is damp with mine. I can feel his heart beating through his chest; fluttering like a bird.

We hold each other for a long time: pot pie and a shower lost to time. At some point, we become one. His beginnings become my endings. In that time, there were no more words. It was completely silent, but we had a conversation. Every gentle caress, every heavy breath, every move became more. Bucky and I have never had a conversation as deep and understanding as that one, and we never will again. To connect with someone like that is a once in a lifetime thing. Not just anyone can rub your back and pull you close like Bucky can.

Eventually, we had to get up. Dinner was soon, and people would begin to use this area again.

“Bucky. We need to get up.”

“Just- just a few more minutes, doll. I’m not ready to let go of you yet.”

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[kikilefangirl]

Worthy of Admiration

Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Word Count: 1644)

As you pulled up to your apartment complex, nothing was seemingly out of place.

Miss Marcia sat next to her open window watching the neighborhood kids run through the grass. Suge and his boys from down the way whistled as you walked past. The usual.

But as soon as you made it up the steps, you paused. Something didn’t feel right. You were suddenly more aware of the knife burning a hole in your pocket.

“Monty!” You called out and he came almost immediately.

“Take these to your Mama, tell her it was no problem.” You said. You didn’t hear his reply.

You hand him your grocery bags, never taking your eyes off of your apartment door further down the hall. You take light, cautious steps. Turning your key with one hand, you rest the other on your knife.

As soon as the door clicked, a metal hand reached for your throat. You sidestepped, feeling the air whizz past you. You lunged at your attacker, but he was fast. His flesh arm reeled back, landing a harsh blow to your side. You slashed his forearm before he could get to you fully.

It caught him off guard long enough for you to kick him in the ribs. It gave you just enough time to retreat to your kitchen. A collection of knives and guns awaited you.

You were prepared for a moment like this.

You focused your energy, calling out all the weapons in your possession. A dagger whistled towards you and you caught it in mid-air. A dagger to go with your knife. The metal man was on you, his gun in hand.

You threw the dagger, digging it in his shoulder. As soon as you let it fly, you focused on his gun, you could feel its mechanics and jammed it from where you were.

Your knife clattered to the ground in the process, though. Hand to hand then. A block. Metal hand incoming. Dodge. Dishes and plates rocked and clashed all around you.

You matched his pace blow for blow. Learned his movements. He favored no arm or leg, not even the metal one. Military grade equipment. Very well trained.

You noticed the details. You were holding your own against the stronger, faster, bigger man solely because of the details of his weaponry. That was your mutation. Weapons. The strategy was purely years of training.

Then you slipped up. The sound of children laughing and running up and down the hall took you by surprise.

No, don’t come up here, you wanted to scream.

As soon as your attention drifted from him, the man seized the opportunity. He had his hands on your throat. You were slowly sinking and black spots dotted your vision.

Just then, another man busted through the door, and pushed your attacker off of you. The two wrestled on your living room floor, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Then everything went black.

                                                        ...

“A fake ID, no prints, and an arsenal of weapons in every room.” Natasha sounded off. She stared at your sleeping form through the observation deck in the Tower’s Med Bay.

Bucky frowned at that. The mystery woman he’d gone after and attacked as the Winter Soldier. The details were fuzzy, but he remembered some parts. From what he gathered, she lived completely off the grid. For good reason if she had Hydra out to get her.

Tony swaggered into the room, and made a beeline for Steve, whose worried gaze alternated between Bucky and the woman. He was used to the stares from everyone; he deserved them.

“Spangles, for some reason Terminator over there-,”Tony gestured to Bucky on the opposite end of the room, “almost you know, to our Jane Doe and here’s the best part, minimal damage.”

His words hung in the air, and Bucky drew his lips in a tight line. He found his own gaze drifting towards her, full of concern. He rubbed his temple.

“What are we looking at, here?” Steve let out at last. Bucky scolded himself for not asking that question himself.

Reality sunk in when no one could answer him.

                                                        ...

“You took a lot of hard hits, yesterday.”

At the sound of the deep voice, your eyes fluttered open against the harsh white light. Hospital. You tried to sit up all the way, but a metal handcuff bit into your wrist. You grimaced and finally looked up and the man.

You tried to scramble backwards at the sight of your attacker, but you were still cuffed.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The man backed away and held his hands up.

You made no moves, but watched him carefully. His metal hand was still very much a threat. You ghosted a hand over the bruise it gave you. You took a ragged breath and licked your lips. Chapped. If not for the morphine drip, everything would hurt. Nope. You were in no condition to deal with the outside world. If you left, now, you were as good as dead.

“My name is Bucky. I’m sorry I attacked you,” He started.

It seemed genuine, but as you thought back to Metal Man, you realized who he was and why he was so familiar. The Winter Soldier. Hydra. You tried not to make a face.

“I wasn’t in control of myself. You’re safe, you’re at Avengers’ Tower.” He said frantically.

Holding your body weight up for so long on your own was beginning to take a toll. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You swallowed hard. It hurt the roof of your mouth because it was so dry, like sandpaper.

You spied a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, so you reached for it. You came up short, but luckily enough Bucky picked up on your actions. He handed you the water and helped you get back in the bed.

You guzzled it down as soon as it touched your lips. Not long after did a familiar voice chime in.

“Well shit, I thought I taught you better than this.”

Both your heads snapped up to see none other than Nick Fury at the door. In a flash, a butterfly knife was sailing through the air. You willed it away from Bucky’s head, and chose to lodge it on the handcuffs.

The chain snapped and you sat up. The pain in your ribs flared, but at least you weren’t chained to the bed anymore.

“Wanna trade, old man?” You said, rubbing your wrist.

Fury let out a laugh and squinted with his good eye. You picked up your clothes, and scoured through the bag they were in.

“And you two...know each other?” Bucky jumped in.

“Oakland. I was seven. Mutants don’t get to live squeaky clean, especially young black ones.” You told them.

You soften at the mention of your younger self. How young and vulnerable you were when Fury found you. You’d been on Hydra’s radar ever since, running ever since.

Your grip on your bag of clothes tightened. You’d had a run in with the Winter Soldier before. You got lucky, back then. And again, it seemed. You bit your lip.

To his credit, Bucky noticed your change in mood.

“Stay here.” He suggested. You met his apologetic eyes. He was serious about you staying, and making up for what he did.

“If I wanted to be a part of a group, y’all wouldn’t be my first call, no offense.” You said. Fury scoffed and his good eye narrowed into a slit. He didn’t comment, though.

You were a mutant who wanted to live your life on your terms, not as a spectacle. You let out a sigh.

“When the doctor clears me I’ll be a ghost.” You stated. You were more so talking to Bucky than Fury. He knew full well you weren’t a team player.

“Next time don’t get rusty,” He called out, tossing you a wad of cash. You nodded in thanks, but Fury just waved his hand and walked out. That was just how he was.

It was just you and Bucky, again.

For how massive he was, the man had an innocence about him, it was almost childlike. But there was years worth of weariness, too. And guilt. A product of Hydra, and decades of a corrupted purpose as the Winter Soldier.

You decided Bucky was a weary man who was doing his very best to live in spite of it all.

“Cheer up, comrade,” You told him with a hand on the crook of his neck, “You’ll still have me for a few more days. Until the doc clears me.”

You shot him a dazzling smile and laughed to yourself when he turned a bright pink. He stammered through his reply so much you felt bad, and let him be.

But as he got up to leave, his eyes dulled. He really wanted you to stay and redeem himself for his actions. You couldn’t say it wasn’t admirable.

You twirled the knife in your hands, in one combination after the other. Bucky had blown up your hiding spot. Hydra was without its best asset and would probably be gunning for new ones. People like you.

You clicked your tongue. You could do with a life fully funded by Tony Stark himself, in the most secure building you’d ever been in.

“It’s too hot out there for me, right now. I might need a place to stay until it’s safe to move.” You said.

Bucky nodded and gave you a small smile.

“Can I ask your name, now?” You blinked at the question.

You’d lived so long without anyone, that you hadn’t even considered revealing any true information about yourself. No introductions, no goodbyes. Bucky could probably relate to that.

“Y/N.”

It felt good to say your name out loud. You surveyed the room around you. The faces of the men and women pretending they weren’t watching your exchange with Bucky.

You tilted your head and surveyed your new knife. Your nostrils flared at your collection left behind in your apartment. Oh, you’d be staying alright.

Reeling back you threw the weapon at your observation window. Successfully sticking, the knife was directly in line with Tony Stark’s head, if not for the window.

“Stark! I want my knives back!”

[chalkrevelations]

SO, Episode 28 of Word of Honor was a roller-coaster ride.

(Spoilers, as ever, so scroll away and come back later if you want to see it unspoiled.)

They managed two entirely separate scenes in this one that had me going “Did … did that just happen? Is this really happening?” Let’s get this one out of the way first: The scene of Zhao Jing in his serial killer lair with the altar and memorial tablets and his serial killer trophies. Y’all. I swear, scene opens with a shot from behind of drunk Awful Yifu in his Fantasy Ancient China underwear staggering through a set of doors into a room with candles and draperies, and before I was able to register the rest of the set design, my brain gave a terrified squeak and started rabbiting around like, “Oh my god, please do not let this be Xie’er’s bedroom. Oh my god, they wouldn’t actually go there, not even hinted, surely that would be too far!” Then my eyeballs caught up and registered the set, so I thought I was safe, but that didn’t even turn out to be the moment in the scene that had me going “Is this really happening?” (Although I do think the fact my brain immediately jumped to that scenario speaks to the creepy vibe the show has managed to build between Awful Yifu and Xie Wang). So, Zhao Jing is a sloppy drunk and absolutely shitfaced, stumbling around and yelling at his dead brothers, and I’m sitting here watching him, feeling like I need a shower, with my skin a little bit trying to crawl off my body, and then he picks up Rong Xuan’s memorial tablet and pours an entire stream of alcohol out of the pitcher all over it, and I say, out loud, to the screen, “Oh my god, they just had him figuratively piss on that tablet.” Only, no, they didn’t, because there was no need to have him do it figuratively because then, he literally whips it out of his pants and takes a piss on the tablet, complete with sound effects, and I’m open-mouthed, thinking “Is this really happening?” As some background, I grew up in mainstream U.S. culture where ancestor veneration isn’t formally practiced - although it isn’t an entirely absent part of our cultural mythos, it’s just that now when I when I offer cultus to the Patres Patriae, it’s deliberate and intentional – but I’ve been doing ancestor work in my particular flavor of polytheism for long enough, and intensely enough, that I had a visceral reaction of disgust and horror to this. Hand literally clapped over my mouth in shock, even after watching all of his ranting at his dead brothers and spitting at his dead shifu and just generally being a disrespectful asshole with delusions of grandeur building up to it. So, yes, show, you have indeed convinced me that Awful Yifu is the worst, even in an episode that also devoted that much screentime to Prince Jin.

Fortunately, the other “Is this really happening?” moment was at the other end of the spectrum, somewhere in the face of how married Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are, which I cannot believe passed censorship. I know I keep saying that, but every time I think I’ve adjusted to how far they’re going to go, the show laughs gay-ly as it pushes the envelope another mile down the road. Truly, this show is the gift that keeps on giving where these two are concerned, and not just because of Zhang Zhehan’s face. I realize I had to spend 50 episodes deciphering Lan Wangji’s smallest microexpression (not that I’m complaining), but I can’t believe how expressive both Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun are in these roles, with Gong Jun’s little sadness eyebrows when WKX wants ZZS to humor him, and how soft Zhang Zhehan’s face gets when ZZS looks at WKX, and how great they both are at making all this look like a pair of adults who are in an established relationship and confident of each other. I’d be as weak as Wen Kexing if Zhou Zishu pouted at me the way he does when he tells Chengling that he can’t do anything to help decorate the Manor except observe and direct because he’s oh, so injured and frail, poor him. Wen Kexing can laugh at Zhou Zishu when ZZS pokes at him by saying the papercrafter was such a beauty! (Compare this to his reaction back in the day, when ZZS deftly manipulated him out of bringing A-Xiang along on their honeymoon adventures by calling her a beauty and implying she might draw attention away from WKX!) Wen Kexing waves kitchen knives at Zhou Zishu in (somewhat fond) exasperation! Zhou Zishu now accepts Wen Kexing piling his plate with food at the table as perfectly normal! There’s no crying in Spring Festival! They send their kid outside to watch the fireworks so they can have sex some alone time! (Merciless killers. How the fuck so adorable?) Someone must have backed up an entire truckful of money to the house of someone very important to get this aired, because what is the heterosexual explanation for … any of this?

Other thoughts:

We continue to get small things that maintain the parallels between Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou and Gu Xiang/Cao Weining, including the mirrored theme of finding a home with a welcoming family, shown through family dinner, and expressed through WKX’s description of his former self as a “lonely ghost,” echoing A-Xiang’s self-description (to Shen Shen in an earlier ep) the same way.

HAN YING! Listen, I am stupidly attached to this bit player, and not just because he’s a familiar face (because half of Wen Xu’s screentime in The Untamed was just a disembodied head hanging at the entrance to the Unclean Realm, so it’s not like there was time to get … attached). And I say stupidly attached because ever since we first saw the way he looked at ZZS with big puppy heart-eyes, I knew he was going to be a goner. I just know they’re gonna fridge him for the next step in ZZS’s journey, because something has to pry ZZS out of Four Seasons Manor, as much as I, personally, would like nothing better than to see 8 more episodes of wedded bliss for two gay dads and their son. (OK, one thing I would like better would be if their daughter and son-in-law came to live with them, too.) At least it looks like Han Ying will get to die taking a figurative bullet for ZZS, which will make him happy and might prevent him from finding out the Glazed Armor he’s so proud of bringing is actually pointless, because don’t think that didn’t hurt to know while I watched him being so proud of managing to get his hands on it. But I’d prefer he didn’t die at all, show. Also, why on earth are there only two (completed) stories under the ZZS/Han Ying label on AO3? Because yes, I have looked. I have the search open in another tab right now. Why haven’t more people taken advantage of this guy’s utter devotion for ZZS? How are people looking at the way Han Ying reverently brushes his fingers over the single white blossom on the wall mural in ZZS’s rooms back in Prince Jin’s palace and not falling all over that?

Xie’er, oh, Xie’er. You’re killing me, here. I need someone to rescue you, you desperate affection-starved little sociopath. So, to recap, last time we met, your Awful Yifu finally let it slip that he was never ever going to acknowledge your existence in public. So now, you’re being a very clever boy, setting up a scheme to manipulate him into having to publicly acknowledge you if he’s going to claim credit for your successes (because I’m sure you can’t even contemplate failure) in service to Prince Jin. So clever, but I hate to tell you, you’re clever at everything except learning from your mistakes when it comes to your Awful Yifu. You really learned nothing from Beauty Ghost, did you? Ugh, your sad little face as you watch your hot mess of an Awful Yifu while you wait for the maids to make tea – it hurts me. Please tell me you’re playing some kind of long game, and you’re just a really great actor. Because he’s sloppy drunk, and right now, watching your face journey, I think maybe you think that makes what he’s saying true – that he’s not guarding his words, and he means it when he tells you that of course he loves you and would never leave you. “Are you still angry with me?” Awful Yifu literally asks. “Alright, I’ll apologize. I was just mad. It didn’t mean anything. We’re together in this. I’ll always stand by you.” Xie’er, you have got to stop believing gaslighting abusive men who shovel that BS. This is what they call the honeymoon period in the cycle of abuse. Seriously. This is textbook. Please stop making the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe think about the fact that your Awful Yifu is, single-handedly, the reason the Department of the Unfaithful actually exists in the first place. He is THAT AWFUL. I would like to think actually seeing his serial killer trophy room will make a difference, now that you have some confirmation of what Tragicomic Ghost told you and not the ability to wave it off as part of some he-said, she-said situation where how could we ever possibly know the truth, despite the fact that Zhao Jing has shown he’ll stab anyone in the back in his quest for power? But, then, I also thought maybe learning last ep that he never planned to publicly acknowledge you would make some kind of difference. Are you going to roll the dice again, gambler? Because I’ll tell you right now, the house always wins. (Not that you’d listen to me anymore than you listened to Beauty Ghost.)

(Also, wait wait waitwaitwait. Waitaminit. This is pure speculation and probably way too out there to be true (oh, but, someone’s going to write this AU for me, right?) Hot-mess drunk yifu tells Xie’er that they’ve been depending on each other “ever since I picked you up and brought you back home.” I can’t remember if we know anything about Xie Wang’s background at this point, but it does sound like Zhao Jing might have literally yoinked him off the street to raise him. He … he doesn’t think Xie’er is actually Yan’er, does he? Only he kidnapped the wrong orphaned urchin by mistake? I’m just sayin’, thinking back to Shen Shen’s reaction to finding out Zhen Yan was still alive, it would be exactly the kind of thing Zhao Jing would do, to keep this kid that his brother(s) wanted to find hidden right under their noses.)

Chengling and the chicken. I can’t, y’all. And Zhou Zishu’s face as soon as he realizes what Wen Kexing is telling Chengling to do – he knows this is going to be a show.

Prince Jin, you are almost as bad as Xie’r and his awful Yifu combined:

Prince Jin: Zhou Zishu, you mastermind, your super-secret spy network continues to spread everywhere, including into my very own palace. Oh, the things you must be plotting against me!

Zhou Zishu, chillin’ at Plum Blossom Manor, day-drinking, dressing up in pretty festive robes, taking advantage of his disciple’s unpaid labor so he doesn’t have to raise a finger for himself, and providing his husband with sex so incredible he is never required to actually cook: “OK, my gay husband and our son-with-two-dads, how about we just stay here together forever and be happy?”

Also Prince Jin: *Creeps on Zhou Zishu like a gaslighting m’fker*

Anyway, if Prince Jin always knew what Han Ying was up to all along, is the letter about ZZS’s father a plant, with false info? It was just kind of suspiciously hanging out in the open on Prince Jin’s desk.