kushnovice

[kushnovice]

many on here need to be learning this lesson

[kushnovice]

WHAT HAPPENED TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS SLOW BURN?! Why am I in the first paragraph of a fic and all is see is "i hate him....right?" AHHHHHHHHHH NO NO NO. STOP TRYING TO GET TO THE POINT. MAKE ME FEEEEELLL. I WANT TO CRY, I WANT TO LAUGH, I WANT TO SCREAM IN ANGER, I WANT MY HEART TO EXPLODE. GIVE ME THAT SWEET SWEET ENEMIES TO LOVERS THAT IS 500K WORDS LONG WITH A HAPPY ENDING

[kushnovice]

TF 141 Loves When You

Pairings: Price x Reader, Johnny x Reader, Roach x Reader, Simon x Reader

Warnings: sexual assault, fighting, talks about readers body, blood, probably ooc but it's all for fun, been sitting in my drafts for months, not edited.

Price is the type to love when you use his status to your advantage

When you're Captain Prices partner who is also apart of the military, people tend to forget that you deserve the same respect as him, even without the rank. You had been a firm but kind person which had drivin' Price to you. He had never seen anyone go through the things you had and turn out so kind. So when he was on his way back from his office to your shared bedroom in the late hours of the night, he never would have expected to hear you shouting at a few privates. "I may be a specialist but that does not give you the right to treat me as if I'm a recruit, my husband is the Captain so you better remember your place." Price's heart skipped a beat as he heard the words slips from your mouth, his normally stoic demeanor breaking. His heart warming as you spoke with pride about sharing his name, a name he once feared was cursed.

Johnny is the type to love when you get praised by superiors

It was in the base after a mission where you had saved a group of civilians that were hidden, tucked away silently behind some rubble that had long since been forgotten. Price had called everyone into the conference room with his normal stoic face. Everyone quickly filed into the room and found their regular seats with ease. Some sat with a grunt, bandaged up by a medic as soon as they got back. Johnny stood at the back of the room, directly in front of Price—who stood at the front of the room—with his hands in his pockets and leaning against the cold wall. When Price starts to debrief over the mission, Johnny blocked out the noise until he heard your name. "They did what none of ya other kids could have managed to do." Price speaks to the group, paying you a compliment that makes you smile and nod at him. Johnny on the other hand—pupils dilated, goofy smile plastered across his face, and glancing between Price and the reader like they hung the moon—practically had a tail wagging happily behind him as if he was the one being complimented. But who can blame him? They share everything anyways.

Roach is the type to love when you show off your skills

Roach knows your skills and abilities, having seen them in person while in the field countless times, he knows to never test you or underestimate you. But not everyone had gotten that memo yet. Which lead to this miserable event in the middle of the training room where a recruit came up to you, trailing not too far behind was his little entourage with grins on their faces, muttering some explicit comment about your body. You bite your lip to choke back the venom that wants to pour from your throat. Roach, who was quietly watching from the sidelines, having paused him movements the moment he saw the recruits heading in your direction with fists clenched. He doesn't go over because he knows that you can manage on your own. It isn't until the recruit makes the brave decision of slapping your ass that you release your anger, grabbing the arm that he used to slap your ass before it returned to its original position and using it to swing him over your shoulder, using momentum and each others body weight to your advantage. The loud slam of the body hitting the concrete floor below him echos through the training room causing heads to turn in their direction, for them all to see the recruit on the floor—gasping for air like you had sucked it all from his lungs—and you, standing over him, glaring daggers at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. Roach is thankful for his mask at this moment as he can't contain the smirk on his face and way his eyes warmed at the sight of them.

Simon is the type to love watching you put new recruits in their place

When the new recruit tries to make jokes about your body, either it be your height, weight, or other features; you're never one to just sit down and take it. Simon would normally be seething and foaming at the mouth that anyone dared speak about not just you, but anyone on his team in that way. But he knew. He knew how you could handle yourself. How you would embarrass the recruit in front of all his little buddies that were just laughing at his jokes. Either in a sparing rink, in combat training, on the field, or in front of Price. You never failed to make anyone regret speaking ill on your name or any name on the team. Simon can never help but watch with a sly smirk and offering you a washcloth to clean any blood left over afterwards. Sometimes, he will take you back to your room so that he can take care of your wounds himself, never trusting anyone else as much as he trusts himself.

[kushnovice]

maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk

[kushnovice]

1000/10

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞・tim drake (featuring ceo!tim drake and secretary!reader)

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ wherein you’re tim’s work wife, but he wants you be something more. a wayne gala gives him the best opportunity to swoop in and finally turn it real.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: attempt at sexual assault, lots of pining (from tim’s end)

note: guys you don’t know how happy i am to have this trope be featured in my first tim fic ever because. well. i am a SUCKER for this trope and i hope i did it justice. and like, who isn’t in love with the idea of ceo!tim??? who isn’t even canon???? (sobbing) anyways please enjoy!

You’re Tim’s work wife.

Everyone knows it. That’s what everyone calls you in the office. Suddenly, Tim is no longer that one guy that exemplifies nepotism, now, he’s just known as your work husband. 

He doesn’t notice at first, the way your relationship deepened to something like that. He remembers the day of your first day—12th April, and you had walked into the office at eight-forty three A.M. for a nine A.M. start—but he doesn’t remember. Tim’s naturally observant, so he knows what you were wearing, down to the height of your heels in inches, but he doesn’t really remember any of your interactions. You were just…nondescript. You just happened to apply, and Tam approved. So you came in.

Then, the two of you’d end up pulling in at the same time. Tim would park his car, lock it, and then turn around to see you waiting patiently at the elevator, pressing the open button.

Things just evolved from there. Tim would bypass his usual drive-by coffee order, because you’d have a red eye ready for him, piping hot and perfect to his taste. Tim would fall into the habit of sitting on your desk first thing instead of his, and the two of you would chat before work actually began.

You were, in every sense possible, his work wife. Except for maybe the point in which Tim is supposed to just have platonic…feelings.

Tim’s even googled it. Wikipedia defines it as a “special, platonic friendship with a work colleague characterised by a close emotional bond, high levels of disclosure and support, mutual trust, honesty, loyalty and respect”. 

Tim respects you. He’s pretty sure that if anything were to happen to you, he’d hunt the fucker down and then commit murder suicide because he can’t function without you.

He physically deflates when you’re not in the office. Tam’s even mocked Tim about it, mirroring his slouched shoulders like she’s some bully from high school, only to laugh when Tim flips her his middle finger. 

Not to mention, when you found out he was Red Robin because he had broken into your apartment—and he had only broken in because he knew you had purchased a well-stocked med-kit from tracking your financial records like a freak, as Jason would say—you had just shrieked, spent a minute clutching at your chest, before going to find the first aid kit for him. You’re literally perfect. There’s no one other than you. 

Not that you know that. Tim’s been suffering through your recounts of recent blind dates that your friends and family have been setting you up with, and every time, Tim suddenly turns into not-Tim and all his snark disappears and all he can say is ‘oh no way’ and ‘dang’ and ‘that sounds awful’. 

What happened to Red Robin Tim? What happened to Robin Tim?

Well. Robin Tim is right here, at this Wayne gala, and he’s about to fucking tear this guy’s throat out of he keeps looking at you like that.

“Tim,” Bruce says airily, as if he doesn’t notice Tim glaring daggers into the back of one of his business partners, “Come here, come meet Marcus. Marcus, this is one of my sons, Tim, who is one of the rare ones who has some interest in the family business.”

Tim forces a laugh with the other two men, shooting a look at Bruce to say I know what you’re doing. Bruce replies with a wink that seems like he’s just being playful, but instead says, Stop thinking of ways to dispose of Keith Briggs.

Tim makes sure he conveys I have twenty-seven methods already very clearly. Bruce’s smile turns strained.

“Oh, Timothy!” Marcus Ho of Starview Industries reaches over and shakes Tim’s hand firmly, brightening. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Tim says, going for a smile. “For what it’s worth, I believe what you’re doing with that new Dove Initiative is extremely admirable.” In the corner of his eye, he sees Keith Briggs reach you, a hand ghosting around your waist, and it makes Tim’s muscles tense. 

You dodge out of the way, manoeuvring out of the way smoothly, and you give a defusing laugh when Briggs frowns at the evasion. You’ve got Tam by your side, thank God, and you’ve also got Cass, who eyes the new arrival warily. 

You’ll be fine. You’re not alone.

“Tim,” Bruce says, very pointedly, because it’s probably obvious that Tim’s not paying attention, “I was just thinking that the dove initiative is quite similar to the new Martha Wayne Foundation project you were thinking of developing. Perhaps Marcus could give you some pointers.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Marcus shakes his head, taking a step back, “I’m still quite new at all this—being the director, and all, I mean, I think Timothy here has even more experience than I do, and he’s at least ten years younger than me!”

“Well, experience doesn’t necessarily equate to wisdom,” Tim points out absent-mindedly, because that was something you once said to him. “If—I’m so sorry, but please excuse me, there’s just something—”

Marcus frowns, seeing how agitated Tim is. “Is there something wrong? Is there something I could do to help?”

“Uh—” Tim meets Brucie Wayne’s glazed glare with an anxiety of his own. “—it’s nothing, it’s just—my wife—yeah, my wife, she’s calling me over.”

Marcus blinks. “Your…wife?”

“Your wife,” Bruce repeats, and Tim knows he’s fucked up. It’s the least of his worries right now, though.

“Yeah—uhm, look, I’ll be right, back, just going to check up on her. Marcus, I’d love to hear all about the Dove Initiative; rebuilding affordable homes in affordable suburbs—amazing work, sir.”

“No, no,” Marcus waves, “Please, go, go, family is very important. God knows that if my wife were here I probably would check up on her every ten minutes.”

As if psychically tuned to Tim’s rising stress, you turn, and your eyes meet. You blink, probably not expecting him to be looking at you, but you give him a tentative wave when you make eye-contact.

Fucking angel. You’ve just given him everything you need.

“I’ll be right back,” Tim promises, beelining for you. Bruce would probably sigh, if he were actually Bruce, but instead, he just makes a random joke that Tim is out of earshot to hear, but the ringing laughter of Brucie Wayne and Marcus trail behind him.

Tim’s focus is elsewhere. Briggs is making another move, this time to touch your ass, and even though Cass is closer, she stays still as Tim slides into place, effectively stopping what would’ve been a serious case of sexual harassment.

Briggs stumbles back as Tim threads his arm around your waist, slotting himself between you and him. Your eyebrows raise at the contact, but you don’t pull away, and things only get better when your frown intensifies in that way when you see something dissatisfactory.

“Hold this,” you command, and Tim blinks as he holds your champagne. With deft fingers, you tug at his bow tie, aligning it properly, before giving him a little pat. “That’s much better. Okay, now give it back.”

Tim obediently gives you your champagne back. Briggs recovers, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, eyes wide. “Hold on,” he says loudly and dumbly, “I didn’t know that you and—and Wayne were a thing—”

“Oh they’re husband and wife,” Tam pipes, smiling innocently. Tim needs to give her a raise.

“Love each other,” Cass agrees, and Tim hopes you don’t read too much into that one. It would be one terribly indirect way to confess.

Briggs eyes widen so much Tim’s starting to get concerned them popping out. “But—you’re not wearing a ring!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do all couples need to wear a ring to signify that they’re in a committed relationship?”

Tim turns his head away into your neck to hide a smile. It doesn’t really do much except fill Tim’s nose with your intoxicating scent, and he has to pivot to get a breath of fresh air before he loses it. Tam meets his eye behind your shoulder, and she wriggles her eyebrows knowingly.

Fuck you, Tim mouthes, but only after he’s made sure no one is looking or filming. He gives himself about two more minutes before someone gets the smart idea of catching Timothy Drake-Wayne hugging a woman by the waist. And not just any woman either, his executive assistant—his secretary.

Scandalous. Honestly, though, Bruce and Wayne Enterprises’ PR department might be the only ones who’ll care about the fallout. 

“You could’ve said something about being the wife of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” Briggs hisses. He takes a massive step back when Tim snaps around to level him with the trademarked Drake Stare of Condescension, and Tim makes sure to add some Red Robin fire behind it so he doesn’t get any smart ideas. 

Briggs clears his throat, changing his tone. “I mean, I wouldn’t want this misunderstanding to have blown out of proportion.”

“What misunderstanding?” you ask, and then, very deliberately, you reach out to fix Tim’s collar. Tim swears his ears must be burning, but he manages a smile when your eyes meet.

“I—” Briggs cuts himself when Tim turns to stare at him again, and he takes another step back. “No, no, there’s no misunderstanding here—uhm, have a good rest of your night, Mrs. Wayne, Mr. Wayne.”

“It’s Drake-Wayne,” you snap after him, irritation furrowing your brows. 

Briggs runs away too fast to hear, but Tim finds it hilarious, and he lets out a laugh as you turn back to look at him. “What?” you ask, dropping your hand, and sipping from your champagne flute.

“Nothing,” Tim shrugs, pulling you a little closer, “just you and your weird priorities.”

“What weird priorities?”

Tim steals your flute to take his own sip. “Just that you didn’t get mad when he was trying to feel you up, but you did when he said the wrong name.”

“i see no problem with my priorities,” you correct, “because it’s my job to ensure the correct information about you is spreading around.”

“Information like you and I are married?”

You freeze. Technically, the two of you have just gone through a situation where both of you had insinuated that you had done your vows and said your ‘I do’s. “Aren’t you?” Cass asks, innocently curious.

“Cass!” you protest, whirling around to her, your champagne forgotten in Tim’s hand, “No no, we’re work spouses, remember? That’s—that’s totally different—it’s platonic and everything—”

“Did you google that?” Tam asks, grinning from behind her own glass. “Wikipedia, perhaps?”

“Why do you know that?” you demand, flustered.

“Well, because Tim asked me the other day if—”

“That’s enough,” Tim cuts in, because he’s also panicking, “is there no one you should be networking with, Tam? Cass, I think Bruce wants to chat with you.”

Both of them make disgusted faces at the suggestions. But a tacit understanding passes through them and they turn to one another, giggle, before hurrying away. Neither go to do what Tim’s told them to do, instead heading for food, but at least they’ve left the two of you alone.

The problem is, then, they’ve left the two of you alone. With no one else here, Tim’s hold on your waist is suddenly very noticeable, and he very carefully detaches himself from you. When he does, a chill settles in from where you had been pressed against him, and Tim swallows down a complain. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, glancing down, and smoothing down your silk dress, “knew you’d come.”

Tim can’t help but preen underneath your faith. “Well,” he says, like an idiot, “I am an imbecile who trapezes around nighttime doing things like this.”

You don’t seem to find him quoting you very funny though. “Yeah, that’s right,” you say, glancing to your side, “that’s true. You do this kind of thing all the time.” You stare off, aimlessly. 

Tim’s said something wrong. He needs to fix this. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I—I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Like he was a sexual predator?” you ask, dryly. You reach for your champagne, but Tim doesn’t give it back just yet. He holds onto it, probably with enough strength to crack the glass, and he steels himself to say the right thing.

“Yes, but also because it was you.” Tim ignores the thumping in his throat, swallowing past it. “I don’t—I honestly might’ve resorted to violence if Bruce didn’t let me go and he had actually touched you.”

Confusion clouds your face. “Tim, you’ve got morals, big deal—”

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you,” Tim blurts out, “and that it’s completely okay if you’re not, because we’re just work spouses, but I’ve probably fantasised way too many times of being actual spouses that it should probably be illegal and you should probably know. So. Yeah.”

“Tim,” you start, but he can see the expression on your face, and he needs to retreat, right now.

“Here,” he says, shoving the champagne back at you, hoping that it’ll distract you, “uhm, if you want me to quit or something, just let me know by Monday so I can get Bruce to come in instead—yeah—”

“Tim.” 

He shuts up. 

Your face transforms into something absolutely stunning, and it takes a while for Tim to realise that it’s a blinding smile. “Shouldn’t the secretary quit in a situation like this?” You laugh, and you reach for his arm. “Not the CEO?”

Tim feels your touch through his sleeve. “I’d never make you quit,” he says, with absolutely no filter because his brain isn’t working right now, “unless you hate your job. And then I’d force you to quit so you can find something that you like. But I don’t think you hate being an executive assistant. Shit. Do you hate being an executive assistant?”

“I don’t love it,” you admit, and Tim’s stomach drops, “but I do love my job. It’s because I love working with you.”

Tim blinks. “Uhm.”

“And I love working with you,” you continue, stepping closer, hand drifting up from his sleeve to rest on his shoulder, “because, funnily enough, I am also in love with you, Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

“Oh,” Tim breathes, “you are? Because that would be great.”

Your other arm slips around his other shoulder, and suddenly, you’re right in front of him. Your front is pressed against his, and Tim’s arms automatically wind around your waist to keep you locked in this embrace.

You smile up at him, sweet and enticing. “This is the perfect moment to kiss me now, Tim,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Tim nods, neurons not firing at all, “yeah, okay, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but Tim has his lips against yours before you can make fun of him. You meld into his instantly, pulling him closer with your hands behind his head. Just in case, Tim reaches up to grab a hold of your champagne glass so it doesn’t spill, and you let him, instead going to play with the hair behind his neck instead.

Dick might’ve whooped from the other side of the ballroom, but Tim’s not paying attention to anyone but you. And the way you taste so sweet, right there, right against him, because you’re his now and—

You break away. Tim’s is horrified when a whine rips out of his throat.

This time you get to laugh, leaning back when Tim attempts to chase your lips. “No, Tim,” you scold, like he’s a misbehaving dog, “we are not making out at your father’s gala.”

“But I wanna,” Tim complains, placing your flute on a nearby table so he can get a better purchase on your hips. “I wanna show you just how much I love you, how much I’ve held back from going at you at the office like a horny teenager.”

“Tim! We’re in public!” You laugh, and before he can whine again (horrifying, why is he doing this?) you press a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

The reaction is automatic. Tim is putty in your hands, because you have him wrapped around your little finger.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tim,” you say gently against his lips, “I love you, dear work husband.”

Tim sighs contently, brushing his nose against yours. “Love you more, dearest work wife.”

Hey. At least any tabloids out there who are rushing to get photos of the two of you onto their front pages won’t be able to say anything like illegitimate relationship because now, it’s legitimate.

Now, Tim’s just gonna have to plan out the next couple of months and gauge how soon is considered too soon for him to propose.

general masterlist・come chat to me here!

[kushnovice]

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

[kushnovice]

going on a date with bucky barnes and it all goes so nicely, so sweetly, so smoothly. you both had so much fun, chemistry and a good time. he's charming, witty and he keeps flirting and complimenting you at every chance he gets. he held your hand all night long, neither of you even noticed it, it just happened naturally, your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling and both of your hearts are at ease.. that's until the date comes to an end, it's time to pay and you ask him if he wants to go 50/50.

that would be the first time he lets go of your hand that night, it's unintentional just happened out of pure shock. "50... what.." the confusion on his face, you'd think he's an alien seeing earth the first time.

"you know.. 50/50.. we'll split the bill between us"

"split the bill?" he asks and you just nod, he'd blink at you, "50/50.. splitting the bill.. what is this about, i asked you on a date"

now it's your turn to be the alien seeing earth for the first time, "we are on a date, bucky. this is a date"

"no, it's not a date."

"it is a date"

"you're asking me to split the bill, this is not a date"

"oh my god sam was right, you can be such a drama queen." you laugh, he just stares at you, blankly. "it might've been a while since the last time you went on a date so let me break it down for you.. these days, people who go on dates split the bill, they go 50/50" you shrug, "it's normal"

"it's normal? you've done it before?"

you nod, "every date i've been on has been 50/50 yeah"

bucky nearly flips the table. bucky who spent all of his three dollars in the 1940's trying to win a teddybear for a girl he had a crush on, bucky who used to save up most of his income in an old shoe box underneath his bed so he can take his girl to a nice diner, bucky who went to the florist to get you a bouquet of roses and didn't even ask for the price just handed his credit card because to him your smile is priceless, bucky is about to have a stroke.

"you've never been on a date" he says, face still blank.

"yes i have"

"no you haven't. this is your first date." he says, "i'm your first time." he smirks and you blush at the possible implication. "50/50.." he scoffs under his breath, "what else are you gonna tell me next? i should walk on the inside of the sidewalk? keep my jacket on when you're cold? sleep further from the door? not open doors for you? jesus sweetheart what has the world come to?"

you hide your smile, you love it when he rambles like that, he's so calm yet so offended all at once somehow, it's funny and endearing. "what's wrong with walking on the inside of the sidewalk?" you joke and he rolls his eyes making you laugh, "so.. no 50/50? are you sure?" you ask one last time, hands on your purse on your lap.

he keeps his eyes on you as he pays the bill, glaring playfully, gets up and pulls out your chair before putting his black leather jacket on your shoulders, "no doll," he offers you his hand which you quickly hold, intertwining your fingers with his, and opens the door with his metal hand, "no 50/50."

[kushnovice]

you find him in your apartment. again. window cracked. boots still on. jacket slung over the back of your chair like it belongs there.

he’s sitting on your couch like he owns it, flipping through a half-read paperback he definitely didn’t bring. probably something you left lying around — some crime thriller he’s already tearing apart in his head.

“make yourself at home,” you say, dropping your keys.

he doesn’t look up. “already did. your lock’s still crap, by the way.”

“you say that every time you break in.”

“because it’s still true.” he finally glances at you, eyes tired but sharp. “what if i was someone else?”

“then you’d be bleeding on the floor right now.”

his mouth twitches. “cute.”

you toe off your shoes, drop your bag, move toward the kitchen. “what do you want, jason?”

“wow. straight to the point. no hi jay, how was patrol? want something to drink? here, take my couch and trample my boundaries some more?”

“you don’t drink anything that isn’t ninety percent caffeine or eighty proof.”

“true,” he says, stretching his legs out. “still rude.”

you eye him from the kitchen. his holsters are off, but the rest of the suit’s still there — the compression shirt, scuffed boots, scraped knuckles. he’s vibrating under the surface like he hasn’t slept in two days and isn’t planning to.

“you get hit again?” you ask, softer.

he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “nothing important.”

“so yes.”

“do you want a play-by-play? i can act it out, real dramatic. throw myself against a wall. bleed on your furniture.”

“you already bled on my rug last month.”

“and it really tied the room together.”

you exhale through your nose. grab a glass of water, bring it over. he takes it without comment, drinks half in one go.

“why are you here, jason?”

this time, he doesn’t have a joke ready. his fingers tap the side of the glass, jaw tight.

“quiet,” he mutters. “it’s quiet here.”

you sit beside him. not close. not far.

“you ever gonna just ask to stay?” you ask.

“don’t need to.” he leans his head back, eyes closed now. “you always let me.”

“that’s not the same thing.”

“yeah,” he says, voice rough. “i know.”

the silence stretches. his foot nudges yours, casual, like he didn’t mean to. like he did.

“you gonna yell at me if i fall asleep here?”

“depends.”

“on what?”

“if you do that thing where you mutter weird half-words and twitch like you’re being electrocuted.”

he opens one eye. “that’s called trauma. look it up.”

“ever heard of therapy?”

“yeah. didn’t vibe with being psychoanalyzed by someone who’s never been shot in the face. weird, right?”

you huff a laugh. he shifts a little closer, not quite touching.

“you still smell like gunpowder,” you say.

“better than blood.”

“barely.”

he doesn’t look at you right away. just stares ahead like he’s watching something you can’t see. then, like it costs him, he says,

“couldn’t sleep.”

that’s all he gives you. not can I crash here? not I don’t want to be alone. just that.

but with jason, that’s enough.

you don’t ask. you just nod toward the blanket on the armrest.

“you want that, or are you gonna steal mine like last time?”

“wasn’t stealing. it was strategic heat distribution.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“you say that a lot,” he murmurs, already leaning back into the cushions.

and still — he doesn’t leave.

not for hours.

[kushnovice]

how tf..

[kushnovice]

"I LOVE YOU."

synopsis: in which kenma quietly realizes he's completely, utterly in love with you.

notes: it's like THE MOMENT he realizes yk. AHH i love this trope. @suniix my fellow kenma lover <3

you’re sitting on the floor, legs tucked beneath you, bent over his switch case like you’re disarming a bomb. you’re not, but you might as well be. you were focusing on organizing his many games, something he never asked you to do but clearly needed. there’s a small crease between your eyebrows and your tongue is poking out slightly in concentration. you're humming something that sounds like a mashup between 'kiss me,' 'uptown girl,' and the animal crossing theme song. he can’t tell if it's a song he's simply never heard of, or if he's actually correct. he thinks he is.

kenma’s on the couch, curled into himself on one end, a blanket you got for him draped across his lap and a drink in his hands that you made exactly the way he likes it. it's ice cold and disgustingly sweet. he hadn’t even asked. you just knew.

kenma realizes that you know quite a lot about him. you know of his drink preferences and his chronic coldness. he knows that you've noticed how when he lies, his eyes get shifty or he'll start fidgeting. you know he can't open packaging on snacks for the life of him and automatically hand him a knife, because you can't either. you know how bad he is at asking for affection, so you curl your fingers into his scalp at the first sign that he wants it.

they're random and unimportant details, but undeniably and utterly him. and you see all of it. he thinks it's nice.

the room is softly lit, a couple lamps illuminated the space. no overhead lights. he doesn't like how fluorescent they are, and they can sometimes overstimulate him. of course, he's never mentioned this, but you figured it out on your own. the curtains are half-drawn, and the tv’s still on the menu screen of the game you were supposed to start an hour ago, forgotten in the warmth of just simply existing next to each other.

he doesn't really know why, but he has now put down his game in favor of watching you. really watching you.

not because you’re doing anything extraordinary. you're just… being. sitting in his hoodie, sleeves slightly rolled, hair thrown lazily into something of a bun. fixing something for him that he didn’t even realize was broken. and smiling, every now and then, to yourself. like it’s enough just to be here.

and that’s when it hits him.

he doesn’t feel his chest tighten like the air has been sucked out of him, or his stomach flutter with the intensity of a thousand butterflies. it’s not cinematic or dramatic like those shojo animes you like to watch where the music kicks up and the camera circles around them in riveting and exciting motions. it’s quiet. like a single domino tipping in slow motion, or a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

“oh.”

he says it out loud, though barely audible, like a secret meant for no one but himself. it sounds stupid as soon as it leaves his mouth, so he coughs, trying to cover it up, hoping you didn’t hear.

you glance up.

“hm?”

he shakes his head a little too fast. “nothing. just… forgot something.”

you blink, noticing the way his eyes shift, but then go back to your organizing, humming that random tune again.

he watches you for another beat, then looks down at the drink you made for him. he sips it slowly, even though it’s cooled down a little. still sweet. still perfect. still him. still you.

and in the back of his mind, something settles. quiet. simple.

"i love you."

masterlist

[kushnovice]

no i will not make separate blogs for my fandoms, everyone who follows me must experience ALL my insanity

[kushnovice]

Counting On You

This does not follow the storyline of TWD. Let's just pretend Rick still wears his sherif hat for the sake of the story. I hope this fandom isn't dead yet

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Walkers, Death, Season 3-6 (idk) spoilers, incorrect plot, short reader, not edited, cowboy hat, public kiss, self indulgent, kinda cheesy but oh well

Rick sighs deeply, his brunette hair stained red with blood that covers his being. After hours of fighting to protect Alexandria, to clear the herd of zombies, they were finally free. The blood soaks his body and leaves his clothes sticking to him, his rippling muscles defined as the shirt clings to his body.

Alexandria had lost everything. The walls that once protected them had fallen down, allowing many lives to be claimed. Now, with all of the walkers bodies on the floor—everyone in the community turned to Rick. All eyes glued towards their new leader, hanging onto every pant of his breath as he calms from the fight. He places his gun into its holster as the muscles in his arm protrude.

He turns his head to you, taking a few steps towards you until you can smell the mix of blood and his husk that surrounds him. His sparkling blue eyes locked down on your eyes as he speaks up, his rough voice sounding through everyone's ears, "Deanna didn't make it. I—" He shifts forwards on his feet, closing the small gap between you both as he sucks in a deep breath, his abs involuntarily flexing as he does so.

"I need ya'." Rick's voice is more gentle as he speaks, his eyes never leaving yours, "I need ya' help. I can't lead on my own, not with a teenage son, not with this many people relying on me, and most definitely without you." His voice lowering until he's soft spoken, almost the same way he speaks to Judith.

You simply smirk up at him. Using your arms to cross them over your chest as you stare up at him while biting the side of your lip gently with your teeth. "Ya' think you can handle me?" You huff out as you keep your eyes locked up on his. "I'll tell ya' when youre wrong. Put you in your place. I won't take any shit." You tilt your head slightly to the side as you gently bite on your lip.

Finally, breaking eye contact, Rick's eyes glance down to your lips before they lock themselves onto your eyes. His serious expression melting into a sly smirk with his eyes softening on you. He closes the remaining space by sliding a hand around your waist and pulling you closer. "I count on it darlin'" He breathes into your skin as he reaches down to capture your lips into a kiss. You can't help but slide your hand up his chest, up the back of his neck and grab the cowboy hat the rests on his head. Lifting it and placing it on top of your head with a confident smirk as you look up at him.

"Yer' gonna be in trouble acting like that, darlin'." Rick forces out with a grin on his face. While things weren't perfect, at least he still had the few people that mattered to him. And somehow, you wiggled yourself in there.

[kushnovice]

What is with the constant fetishisation of r@pe and SA on this app and in fan fiction?? I get people have their kinks n shit but r@pe??? Really???

Not only that but the amount of p€doph!lia and ince$t is insane😟

I try not to be judgemental but I don’t get why you would want to read about yourself or someone else being SA how does that not make you uncomfortable and normalising shit like that is so not okay. It is not romance. It is not dark romance. It’s abuse and it’s gross.

I get that people are into different things and that you can’t control what you like most of the time but the normalisation of this stuff is crazy and so damaging especially to minors and victims.

I can kinda get CNC like atleast there’s consent in that but straight up violent r@pe fiction is weird and scary.

Anyway thanks for reading my lil rant!! love you all, stay happy and safe MWAH 💋

[kushnovice]

hot girl shit (reading fanfiction on a friday night instead of going out)

[kushnovice]

Be Mine Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.

wc: 2.8k

Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)

AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. Part 2

"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.

The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"

Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.

Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.

Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.

Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.

"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.

They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.

When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.

After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.

"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.

Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.

"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.

When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."

Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.

A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.

"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."

(Part 2)

[kushnovice]

Be Mine Again (2)

Part one Masterlist

Paring: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky cant get along after years of issues. The issue now? They are both trapped by Zola, his one intention being to break Bucky. (Can be read as a stand alone) hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

Warnings: TORTURE!!, cursing, blood, Bucky being kinda angsty, zola being sadistic, choking, bruises, restrains, needles, syringes, being drugged, abuse, being forced to watch torture, razors, scalpel, being impaled, idk yall i went crazy. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

AN: female reader, i don't think i used (y/n), I PUT ALL THE COMFORT IN THIS PART!!, i hope this one turnt out better than part one. requests are open!!

Time was lost, masqueraded by the dark grey walls. Coldness radiated off of the confining walls which held no windows. The only light was a light bulb dangling by wires from the ceiling leaving the room surrounding them dark. There was a faint light peaking from the door's cracks on the far side of the room, the only sign of direction. The darkness close, trickling down their backs leaving permanent shivers. When she awoke, she groggily blinked her eyes open to meet the sight in front of her. Her heart clenched when she saw Bucky with one arm chained above his head, the chain being attached to the ceiling on some pulley machine. His metal arm was missing, leaving his left side empty as he dangled to the left limply, his head laying slack down and against his side, having not awoken yet. Surveying him up and down, she can see that his ankles are chained together as well, she went to reach out to him but was immediately stopped as something restrained her. She attempted to look down but was restricted as she felt a cool metal against her chin and throat. She glances down with her eyes, seeing herself roped to a wooden chair causing her to squirm and attempt to free herself, leaving her wrists and throat red and raw.

Bucky eventually flutters his eyes awake as his head rises to look around, his eyes scanning the room before stopping and narrowing on her. "Where the hell are we?" He questioned looking her up and down, tied up in the chair noting how she was completely restricted. She sighs deeply, her chest deflating as she speaks, "I have no idea…" Is all she can mutter before the lights flicker on, flash-banging them involuntarily as they screw their eyes shut. Tears brimming at her eyes before her eyes flutter open to see Bucky staring at Zola who had just entered the room with a thunk of the door. Zola is wearing a white lab coat and a prideful smirk. "You are at my laboratory." Zola's deep voice rings out, in his hands, is a tray of medical tools, and placing it on the table in front of them before he moves to another side of the room and grabs gloves, which he puts on as he moves back towards us. "What do you want?" She questions with narrowed eyebrows at Zola causing him to grin as he grabs a scalpel, examining it in his grasp as he responds, "The winter soldier." Zola responds as he shifts his gaze to make eye contact with her, stalking towards her with predatory eyes causing her to shift uncomfortably in the wooden chair she was restrained to. "The soldier won't come out if he has something to fight for." Zola is now next to her with the scalpel in his hand being pressed up against her cheek, little beads of blood building up over the scalpel before dripping down her cheek as he glides it down. She involuntarily lets out a hiss of pain and tries to move her head away only to be held in place by the restraint. The sound of chains roughly clashes against each other and the concrete walls force Zola to jerk his head to Bucky. Bucky's jaw is clenched and his hand is in a fist as he dangles from the metal cuff. He struggles and fights against the chains causing Zola to laugh sadistically.

Zola moves the scalpel to the top of her neck which is not covered by the restrains and starts to cut down her chest, splitting the fabric on its way as he glides it down her chest, leaving a trail of red flowing down. He brings the scalpel down her chest, before reaching her bra, Bucky yells out, "Please, please." Bucky starts to beg as he lets his head fall down limply, his eyes screwing shut at the sight in front of him. "You can have it, you can have me… I'll bring him back… just let her go." He mutters defeated as he lets his head lay there limply until a cackle causes his head to snap up at Zola. "Oh, Soldat. It isn't that simple, you're not cold-blooded anymore…" Zola looked him up and down, "But you will be soon." Zola promises Buck with a wide grin. Bucky lets his head fall back down, not wanting to see the kind of torture she will suffer…because of him.

Zola continues to drag the scalpel down her body, cutting her bra in half and continuing to slide down her stomach before he sighs with a smile, "Can't forget about your legs, now can we?" Zola questions with a glint of evil in his eyes as he lifts the scalpel up and off of her skin before plunging it down into her thigh making her scream out in pain. Tears built up in her eyes as her scream died out in her throat causing Zola to laugh at her, "She's not nearly as good with pain as you are, Soldat." Bucky flinches at the sound of your scream and he can't help as his teeth grind against themselves and how his hand curls into a tight fist. Bucky's chest heaves with anger as he forces his eyes on the ground, willing himself not to look at her, not knowing what his reaction would be, but knowing it wouldn't be good. Zola grins as he takes off his gloves with a snap, "I'll be back." He says before leaving out of the door he came in, leaving the lights on. Her vision blurs out of adrenaline and tears rim her eyes as she tries to focus her gaze on Bucky. The throbbing and stinging in her leg made it difficult to see or think about anything.

She blinks away her tears and sighs deeply as she can finally see Bucky through her daze, his head limply lying there, "It's only a scratch," she mutters softly as she fights the neck restraint to stay looking up at him. "I'm alright." Bucky's head is unwavering as he refuses to look up and meet her gaze and chuckles darkly, "I would believe you are fine but you have a fucking knife sticking out of your leg, so." He growls as he fights against the chains holding him up in the air. His wrists were visibly bruised and swollen from how he had been fighting against the chains and he grunted through the pain as he kept trying, eventually giving up and allowing his head to lie limply.

"Pshh, you worry too much. It's just a tad bit of blood." She dismisses him, watching him intently with soft eyes, trying to ease his mental distress.

He growls in response, "I can't believe I put you in this stupid fucking position." Bucky's voice holds more emotion than she had expected, a mix of rage and sadness with guilt written all over his face. "You should have stayed behind, you shouldn't have even come. No one wanted you to come." Bucky's cold and dark eyes finally shot up to meet hers as he spit venom, causing her to drop her head to her lap as she processed his words, her face becoming a scowl.

"I came to protect you! To help you!" She snaps as she glares at Bucky who violently thrashes around in his chains when he meets eye contact with her and hears her words.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Bucky's voice carries through the room as he uses his arm, trying to break free. "I can't watch you be hurt, be closer and closer to death because of me. it's killing me…" Bucky's voice dies into a whisper as he lets his head dangle limply at his empty side, "I can't stand looking at you like that, because of me…." he trails off as a few tears fall down his cheeks.

She gasps softly as she struggles against the ropes yet again, wanting nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, "Oh, James…" she whispers softly out to him as her eyes soften on him. "I'm strong, you know this. I'll be just fine. I promise you, we will make it out of here." She speaks softly as she gives up fighting against the ropes knowing it's futile, just hoping her words would be enough to help him get out of the dark space in his mind. Ignoring the screaming in her leg from where the scalpel protrudes from her thigh, she continues to try to reach out to Bucky. "They won't win." She says, determined even though her body had been used as a battering ram, bruises and abrasions covering her body with a dark hue as she watched Bucky who softly nods, trying to make himself believe her words.

Suddenly, the door unlocking made both heads snap over to the door where Zola walked in with a smirk and held a tray. The tray contained a syringe on top of it, a clear liquid inside of the syringe. Zola places the tray on the table separating her and Bucky as he starts to put on gloves with a snap. "This…" he begins to speak as he finishes putting his gloves on before moving to grab the syringe off the tray on the table, "is Pancuronium Bromide," Zola says as he holds it up to the light, inspecting it before turning to look at Bucky. "It is a muscle relaxer with no sedative or pain-reducing effects. Just a bit too much could kill her." Zola's face has morphed into a mad smile causing Bucky to whip his body at Zola, barely being restrained by the chains as the anger overtakes him. The walls cracked around the bolts holding Bucky's chains up as he trashed around, fighting with everything in him to rip Zola away from her. Zola took slow and deliberate steps towards where she sat restrained in the wooden chair, Zola's eyes never leaving Bucky as he watched with a grin on his face. "Stay away from her!" Bucky growls deeply as he thrashes against the chains, his jaw clenched as he glares intensely at Zola. Zola still holds his wild grin as he uncaps the syringe, "This is killing you, isn't it, Soldat?" Zola's grin morphed into a satisfied smirk as Bucky's face contorted into a scowl. "Good." Zola smiles wickedly as he grips her hair roughly and forces her head to the side with a harsh tug causing her to yelp out. She fights the grip on her hair but it is ultimately useless as Zola has enough room to prick her neck and inject the clear liquid into her before he lets go of her head with a tough push. She growls as she looks up at Zola through her hair, watching as Zola makes his way to the side of his lab, he grabs a blow torch and starts heating up an iron stick with the Hydra logo on the end as it slowly starts to glow red. Bucky watches as her head involuntarily falls forward limply, the medicine kicking in as she loses control of her body.

Zola stalks over with a grin overtaking his face as he holds the heated iron stick, "You should feel every bit of this." Zola lifts her shirt that he had cut with the scalpel, letting it rest over her chest as he lines up the end of the iron to her body. Bucky growled as he began to violently thrash around in the chains, trying to escape to get to her. Bucky fought even harder against the chains as he heard her screams echoing through the room causing his vision to blur. Before he could focus again, dust fell into his eyes as the bolts flew from the walls, the chains holding Bucky up, now falling to the ground and dangling from his wrist and ankles. Bucky growls deeply as he immediately grabs Zola by the back of his lab coat and throws him back up against the wall, causing it to crack as Zola slides down. Her screams become strangled breaths as the Hydra logo is a bright red blister already forming over her torso.

Bucky growls as he stalks up to Zola, now holding a slight grin as he sends a harsh kick into his stomach before leaning down, "Where's my arm?" His voice is cold and firm causing Zola to point over to a case on the far side of the lab. He is quick to get to his arm and put it on quickly. Bucky quickly makes his way to her and unties her restraints, using his bionic hand to help break the restraint around her neck. Her body stays weakly limp against the wooden chair, which is covered in her blood, as he frees her. "Fuck, can you move at all?" Bucky asks as he looks her up and down, he narrows his eyes on the scalpel in her thigh and he rips his shirt around the bottom before moving to kneel next to her leg. "No." her voice is weak as she pants out causing him to nod, "I have to remove this before I can move you," Bucky says, glancing up to meet her eyes before looking back at the problem. He places his human hand on the scalpel as his bionic arm holds cloth from his shirt, in one swift movement, he brings the scalpel out of her thigh and the cloth over her wound as he quickly ties it tightly. Bucky moves his eyes up to meet hers as he sighs deeply, he brings his hands up to wrap around her body. He slides her off the chair and into his lap as he pulls her up against his chest, resting his head on top of hers as he lets out a breath of relief. " You did so good, doll. So fuckin' good…fuck…" Bucky mutters into her ear as he runs his hand through her hair, "I'll get us out of here…but we can stay here until you feel better…" Bucky whispers softly into her hair as he runs his hair through it gently causing her to let out a few tears. She sniffles as they sit in silence for a few moments, Bucky's gaze shifting between her in his lap and Zola on the floor in front of him. "I have been so worried about you, doll. It was killing me, not being able to reach out to you, to put an end to those fuckers before they hurt you like this." Bucky inhales deeply, taking in her scent and presence as he softly caresses her cheek. "I thought leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done…but watching you…I can never do that again. I left because I thought it would keep you safer…but no one and nothing can keep you safe like I can, Doll. I know that now." He confesses, placing his forehead against hers softly as he cups her jaw with his hand, "Please, allow me to be that person again…" Bucky sighs deeply, "I know I don't deserve it…I'll be better for you, I'll go back to therapy like you want, please…will you be mine again?"

She manages to form a smile as the medicine begins to wear off, "I cannot stand you, yet I also can't stand to be without you. Of course, James." She responds causing Bucky to lean in and press a soft kiss to her lips, his hands softly squeezing her shoulders as he helps keep her upright. "I'm not letting you off of bed rest for at least a month." Bucky says as he pulls her back into his chest causing her to gasp, "A month?" she asked shocked as she tilted her head to look up at him.

"Yes, no arguing, Doll. I'll lock you in my room if I have to." He smirks down at her causing her to giggle softly, "Okay okay, chill." she smiles up at him until the doors bust open revealing none other than Captain America wielding his shield, ready for a fight. Steve's eyes narrow and then soften when he sees her and Bucky on the ground, he places his shield on the ground before he kneels next to them, "What happened Buck?" Steve asks and Bucky shakes his head, "I'll explain when we get back. For now, let's get back home." He sighs as he gets up, holding her in his arms bridal style. "You ready, Doll?" Bucky asks her as he glances down at her to see her nodding softly with a smile. Steve notices the little exchange with a smile on his face as he grabs Zola and restrains him before leading him to the helicopter. After the short helicopter ride, she is escorted off to the medical wing and Zola is taken in by police, leaving Bucky and Steve in the waiting room of the medical wing. Bucky sits in a chair next to Steve, his leg bouncing up and down with anxiety before Steve breaks the silence, "You alright? Need to see the medic for that blood?" He asks him causing Bucky to look down at his blood-soaked costume, "Blood? Oh, it's not mine…" Bucky sighs deeply, " I love her so much, Steve…she went through so much for me…" he runs his hand through his hair out of frustration. "Because-" Steve starts but gets cut off as she speaks, standing next to the medical wing door with a crutch. She has medical wrapping around her wounds and papers in the other hand. "Because I love you too, dumbass." Bucky and Steve's heads both snap up and shoot at her, they get up and make their way to her without hesitation. Bucky stood back a hair as he watched Steve entrap her into a hug before he did the same. "My perfect little doll is what you are." Bucky smiles as he places a kiss against her lips and wraps his hands around her waist.

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @winterslove1917 @mayusenpai666 @vioplay19 @sofarnothinghaschangedmymind @nadinekr @greatenthusiasttidalwave @preeyas-world @unaxv @daughterofapollo-7

[kushnovice]

Be Mine Again

Part one Masterlist

Paring: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky cant get along after years of issues. The issue now? They are both trapped by Zola, his one intention being to break Bucky. (Can be read as a stand alone) hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

Warnings: TORTURE!!, cursing, blood, Bucky being kinda angsty, zola being sadistic, choking, bruises, restrains, needles, syringes, being drugged, abuse, being forced to watch torture, razors, scalpel, being impaled, idk yall i went crazy. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

AN: female reader, i don't think i used (y/n), I PUT ALL THE COMFORT IN THIS PART!!, i hope this one turnt out better than part one. requests are open!!

Time was lost, masqueraded by the dark grey walls. Coldness radiated off of the confining walls which held no windows. The only light was a light bulb dangling by wires from the ceiling leaving the room surrounding them dark. There was a faint light peaking from the door's cracks on the far side of the room, the only sign of direction. The darkness close, trickling down their backs leaving permanent shivers. When she awoke, she groggily blinked her eyes open to meet the sight in front of her. Her heart clenched when she saw Bucky with one arm chained above his head, the chain being attached to the ceiling on some pulley machine. His metal arm was missing, leaving his left side empty as he dangled to the left limply, his head laying slack down and against his side, having not awoken yet. Surveying him up and down, she can see that his ankles are chained together as well, she went to reach out to him but was immediately stopped as something restrained her. She attempted to look down but was restricted as she felt a cool metal against her chin and throat. She glances down with her eyes, seeing herself roped to a wooden chair causing her to squirm and attempt to free herself, leaving her wrists and throat red and raw.

Bucky eventually flutters his eyes awake as his head rises to look around, his eyes scanning the room before stopping and narrowing on her. "Where the hell are we?" He questioned looking her up and down, tied up in the chair noting how she was completely restricted. She sighs deeply, her chest deflating as she speaks, "I have no idea…" Is all she can mutter before the lights flicker on, flash-banging them involuntarily as they screw their eyes shut. Tears brimming at her eyes before her eyes flutter open to see Bucky staring at Zola who had just entered the room with a thunk of the door. Zola is wearing a white lab coat and a prideful smirk. "You are at my laboratory." Zola's deep voice rings out, in his hands, is a tray of medical tools, and placing it on the table in front of them before he moves to another side of the room and grabs gloves, which he puts on as he moves back towards us. "What do you want?" She questions with narrowed eyebrows at Zola causing him to grin as he grabs a scalpel, examining it in his grasp as he responds, "The winter soldier." Zola responds as he shifts his gaze to make eye contact with her, stalking towards her with predatory eyes causing her to shift uncomfortably in the wooden chair she was restrained to. "The soldier won't come out if he has something to fight for." Zola is now next to her with the scalpel in his hand being pressed up against her cheek, little beads of blood building up over the scalpel before dripping down her cheek as he glides it down. She involuntarily lets out a hiss of pain and tries to move her head away only to be held in place by the restraint. The sound of chains roughly clashes against each other and the concrete walls force Zola to jerk his head to Bucky. Bucky's jaw is clenched and his hand is in a fist as he dangles from the metal cuff. He struggles and fights against the chains causing Zola to laugh sadistically.

Zola moves the scalpel to the top of her neck which is not covered by the restrains and starts to cut down her chest, splitting the fabric on its way as he glides it down her chest, leaving a trail of red flowing down. He brings the scalpel down her chest, before reaching her bra, Bucky yells out, "Please, please." Bucky starts to beg as he lets his head fall down limply, his eyes screwing shut at the sight in front of him. "You can have it, you can have me… I'll bring him back… just let her go." He mutters defeated as he lets his head lay there limply until a cackle causes his head to snap up at Zola. "Oh, Soldat. It isn't that simple, you're not cold-blooded anymore…" Zola looked him up and down, "But you will be soon." Zola promises Buck with a wide grin. Bucky lets his head fall back down, not wanting to see the kind of torture she will suffer…because of him.

Zola continues to drag the scalpel down her body, cutting her bra in half and continuing to slide down her stomach before he sighs with a smile, "Can't forget about your legs, now can we?" Zola questions with a glint of evil in his eyes as he lifts the scalpel up and off of her skin before plunging it down into her thigh making her scream out in pain. Tears built up in her eyes as her scream died out in her throat causing Zola to laugh at her, "She's not nearly as good with pain as you are, Soldat." Bucky flinches at the sound of your scream and he can't help as his teeth grind against themselves and how his hand curls into a tight fist. Bucky's chest heaves with anger as he forces his eyes on the ground, willing himself not to look at her, not knowing what his reaction would be, but knowing it wouldn't be good. Zola grins as he takes off his gloves with a snap, "I'll be back." He says before leaving out of the door he came in, leaving the lights on. Her vision blurs out of adrenaline and tears rim her eyes as she tries to focus her gaze on Bucky. The throbbing and stinging in her leg made it difficult to see or think about anything.

She blinks away her tears and sighs deeply as she can finally see Bucky through her daze, his head limply lying there, "It's only a scratch," she mutters softly as she fights the neck restraint to stay looking up at him. "I'm alright." Bucky's head is unwavering as he refuses to look up and meet her gaze and chuckles darkly, "I would believe you are fine but you have a fucking knife sticking out of your leg, so." He growls as he fights against the chains holding him up in the air. His wrists were visibly bruised and swollen from how he had been fighting against the chains and he grunted through the pain as he kept trying, eventually giving up and allowing his head to lie limply.

"Pshh, you worry too much. It's just a tad bit of blood." She dismisses him, watching him intently with soft eyes, trying to ease his mental distress.

He growls in response, "I can't believe I put you in this stupid fucking position." Bucky's voice holds more emotion than she had expected, a mix of rage and sadness with guilt written all over his face. "You should have stayed behind, you shouldn't have even come. No one wanted you to come." Bucky's cold and dark eyes finally shot up to meet hers as he spit venom, causing her to drop her head to her lap as she processed his words, her face becoming a scowl.

"I came to protect you! To help you!" She snaps as she glares at Bucky who violently thrashes around in his chains when he meets eye contact with her and hears her words.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Bucky's voice carries through the room as he uses his arm, trying to break free. "I can't watch you be hurt, be closer and closer to death because of me. it's killing me…" Bucky's voice dies into a whisper as he lets his head dangle limply at his empty side, "I can't stand looking at you like that, because of me…." he trails off as a few tears fall down his cheeks.

She gasps softly as she struggles against the ropes yet again, wanting nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, "Oh, James…" she whispers softly out to him as her eyes soften on him. "I'm strong, you know this. I'll be just fine. I promise you, we will make it out of here." She speaks softly as she gives up fighting against the ropes knowing it's futile, just hoping her words would be enough to help him get out of the dark space in his mind. Ignoring the screaming in her leg from where the scalpel protrudes from her thigh, she continues to try to reach out to Bucky. "They won't win." She says, determined even though her body had been used as a battering ram, bruises and abrasions covering her body with a dark hue as she watched Bucky who softly nods, trying to make himself believe her words.

Suddenly, the door unlocking made both heads snap over to the door where Zola walked in with a smirk and held a tray. The tray contained a syringe on top of it, a clear liquid inside of the syringe. Zola places the tray on the table separating her and Bucky as he starts to put on gloves with a snap. "This…" he begins to speak as he finishes putting his gloves on before moving to grab the syringe off the tray on the table, "is Pancuronium Bromide," Zola says as he holds it up to the light, inspecting it before turning to look at Bucky. "It is a muscle relaxer with no sedative or pain-reducing effects. Just a bit too much could kill her." Zola's face has morphed into a mad smile causing Bucky to whip his body at Zola, barely being restrained by the chains as the anger overtakes him. The walls cracked around the bolts holding Bucky's chains up as he trashed around, fighting with everything in him to rip Zola away from her. Zola took slow and deliberate steps towards where she sat restrained in the wooden chair, Zola's eyes never leaving Bucky as he watched with a grin on his face. "Stay away from her!" Bucky growls deeply as he thrashes against the chains, his jaw clenched as he glares intensely at Zola. Zola still holds his wild grin as he uncaps the syringe, "This is killing you, isn't it, Soldat?" Zola's grin morphed into a satisfied smirk as Bucky's face contorted into a scowl. "Good." Zola smiles wickedly as he grips her hair roughly and forces her head to the side with a harsh tug causing her to yelp out. She fights the grip on her hair but it is ultimately useless as Zola has enough room to prick her neck and inject the clear liquid into her before he lets go of her head with a tough push. She growls as she looks up at Zola through her hair, watching as Zola makes his way to the side of his lab, he grabs a blow torch and starts heating up an iron stick with the Hydra logo on the end as it slowly starts to glow red. Bucky watches as her head involuntarily falls forward limply, the medicine kicking in as she loses control of her body.

Zola stalks over with a grin overtaking his face as he holds the heated iron stick, "You should feel every bit of this." Zola lifts her shirt that he had cut with the scalpel, letting it rest over her chest as he lines up the end of the iron to her body. Bucky growled as he began to violently thrash around in the chains, trying to escape to get to her. Bucky fought even harder against the chains as he heard her screams echoing through the room causing his vision to blur. Before he could focus again, dust fell into his eyes as the bolts flew from the walls, the chains holding Bucky up, now falling to the ground and dangling from his wrist and ankles. Bucky growls deeply as he immediately grabs Zola by the back of his lab coat and throws him back up against the wall, causing it to crack as Zola slides down. Her screams become strangled breaths as the Hydra logo is a bright red blister already forming over her torso.

Bucky growls as he stalks up to Zola, now holding a slight grin as he sends a harsh kick into his stomach before leaning down, "Where's my arm?" His voice is cold and firm causing Zola to point over to a case on the far side of the lab. He is quick to get to his arm and put it on quickly. Bucky quickly makes his way to her and unties her restraints, using his bionic hand to help break the restraint around her neck. Her body stays weakly limp against the wooden chair, which is covered in her blood, as he frees her. "Fuck, can you move at all?" Bucky asks as he looks her up and down, he narrows his eyes on the scalpel in her thigh and he rips his shirt around the bottom before moving to kneel next to her leg. "No." her voice is weak as she pants out causing him to nod, "I have to remove this before I can move you," Bucky says, glancing up to meet her eyes before looking back at the problem. He places his human hand on the scalpel as his bionic arm holds cloth from his shirt, in one swift movement, he brings the scalpel out of her thigh and the cloth over her wound as he quickly ties it tightly. Bucky moves his eyes up to meet hers as he sighs deeply, he brings his hands up to wrap around her body. He slides her off the chair and into his lap as he pulls her up against his chest, resting his head on top of hers as he lets out a breath of relief. " You did so good, doll. So fuckin' good…fuck…" Bucky mutters into her ear as he runs his hand through her hair, "I'll get us out of here…but we can stay here until you feel better…" Bucky whispers softly into her hair as he runs his hair through it gently causing her to let out a few tears. She sniffles as they sit in silence for a few moments, Bucky's gaze shifting between her in his lap and Zola on the floor in front of him. "I have been so worried about you, doll. It was killing me, not being able to reach out to you, to put an end to those fuckers before they hurt you like this." Bucky inhales deeply, taking in her scent and presence as he softly caresses her cheek. "I thought leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done…but watching you…I can never do that again. I left because I thought it would keep you safer…but no one and nothing can keep you safe like I can, Doll. I know that now." He confesses, placing his forehead against hers softly as he cups her jaw with his hand, "Please, allow me to be that person again…" Bucky sighs deeply, "I know I don't deserve it…I'll be better for you, I'll go back to therapy like you want, please…will you be mine again?"

She manages to form a smile as the medicine begins to wear off, "I cannot stand you, yet I also can't stand to be without you. Of course, James." She responds causing Bucky to lean in and press a soft kiss to her lips, his hands softly squeezing her shoulders as he helps keep her upright. "I'm not letting you off of bed rest for at least a month." Bucky says as he pulls her back into his chest causing her to gasp, "A month?" she asked shocked as she tilted her head to look up at him.

"Yes, no arguing, Doll. I'll lock you in my room if I have to." He smirks down at her causing her to giggle softly, "Okay okay, chill." she smiles up at him until the doors bust open revealing none other than Captain America wielding his shield, ready for a fight. Steve's eyes narrow and then soften when he sees her and Bucky on the ground, he places his shield on the ground before he kneels next to them, "What happened Buck?" Steve asks and Bucky shakes his head, "I'll explain when we get back. For now, let's get back home." He sighs as he gets up, holding her in his arms bridal style. "You ready, Doll?" Bucky asks her as he glances down at her to see her nodding softly with a smile. Steve notices the little exchange with a smile on his face as he grabs Zola and restrains him before leading him to the helicopter. After the short helicopter ride, she is escorted off to the medical wing and Zola is taken in by police, leaving Bucky and Steve in the waiting room of the medical wing. Bucky sits in a chair next to Steve, his leg bouncing up and down with anxiety before Steve breaks the silence, "You alright? Need to see the medic for that blood?" He asks him causing Bucky to look down at his blood-soaked costume, "Blood? Oh, it's not mine…" Bucky sighs deeply, " I love her so much, Steve…she went through so much for me…" he runs his hand through his hair out of frustration. "Because-" Steve starts but gets cut off as she speaks, standing next to the medical wing door with a crutch. She has medical wrapping around her wounds and papers in the other hand. "Because I love you too, dumbass." Bucky and Steve's heads both snap up and shoot at her, they get up and make their way to her without hesitation. Bucky stood back a hair as he watched Steve entrap her into a hug before he did the same. "My perfect little doll is what you are." Bucky smiles as he places a kiss against her lips and wraps his hands around her waist.

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @winterslove1917 @mayusenpai666 @vioplay19 @sofarnothinghaschangedmymind @nadinekr @greatenthusiasttidalwave @preeyas-world @unaxv @daughterofapollo-7