#cw HYDRA content

[awbarnes-no]

@wormholxtreme: but tell us about Anya's handler and how she got away from him. How does her relationship with him affect her relationship with other authority/parental figures?

Buckle in boys and girls, this is gonna be a bit of a post. THIS HEADCANON CONTAINS EXTREMLY TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! I just wanna get that out in the open before we dive into this. For a lot of people enslaved by HYDRA, their Handlers are the source of some very special trauma's. V is no exception.

( placing under read more to save on space and for triggers. )

She never knew his name for starters. From the day she met him when she was a girl, she only ever knew him as V. He had been a presence since she started her combat training, overseeing her training and then being her primary handler for missions. ( the Soldier being the only other person she would comply with by design. ) The HYDRA agent was also among the small number of people who ever knew about the true parentage of Anya. ( that information was never digitally recorded and any documented proof as of now is lost. )

On a good day, the dynamic the two tended to have was akin to a controlling father ( or pretending to be ) leading with a cruel method, inflicting harsh punishment on the girl for failure ( resulting in her complete aversion to failure all together. ) only to flip when she acted favorably, resulting in a desperation to please out of fear of the alternative.

There's also the added layer of the insurance he has on his control over her. When Anya was brought into the fold, she was a baby. Once she had developed enough that it was safe for her body, she underwent a surgery, chemically altering her brain to react to a pheromonal agent that certain people wore. This reaction would render her unable to deny an order given. Two were given this. One was V from day one, and later the Soldier once it was confirmed they didn't need to worry about his programming failing. Between the two of them . . . the young girl's rage could be quelled.

Tasked with attempting to unlock her mutation, V was instructed to place her on a solo mission, the Soldier bein kept outside, while she went in for a hit. The hit was rigged from the beginning, the gun she was sent in ( and given to her by V ) empty. She barely escaped with her life, but managed to complete the mission none the less. When she confronted V about it, he simply shrugged it off as if it was nothing.

All he cared about was if it happened . . .

Before she could even inquire what he meant, something snapped in the Winter Soldier, and after a fight, a bullet was ultimately fired into V's head. To the knowledge of Bucky and Anya . . . V was a dead man.

The effect V has had on Anya has lasted since that day her and Bucky made their escape. Luckily, V didn't have too much effect on her and Bucky's relationship, once she was away from him. There was enough fear of her handler to trust Bucky more, but V had been the only other authority figure she really had, and liked to play at being her father ( or so he said ) but once she was away from him, that all seemed to settle. Her trust in her immediate family ultimately winning out.

What this did effect however, is her outlook on authority figures. She doesn't trust them. At best, she's suspicious, and often times will put up walls they need to earn to right to bring down. On the other hand, she's aggressively avert toward, often times having angry outbursts when pushed too far. From a young age, Anya demonstrated a rage unparalleled by any soldier HYDRA had seen, relying on the few who had control over her to quell that. When V had control, he enjoyed pointing that rage at his enemies. She's gotten better since then. But there's still a bomb under there. Waiting to go off.

[first-edition]

Bent Over

Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.

Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.

A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

ENJOY

You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 

You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 

Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 

At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 

You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 

“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 

Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 

“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 

“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 

“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 

“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 

“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 

“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 

“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 

“Are the others here?” he asks you. 

“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 

“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 

“No james-” Cain begins. 

“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.

“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 

“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 

“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 

“Understood?” Bucky asks. 

“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 

“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 

“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 

“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 

—-------

You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 

They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 

“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 

“S-sir?” you ask 

“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 

“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 

“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 

“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 

“J-james.” you speak quietly. 

“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 

Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 

“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 

“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 

“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 

“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 

“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 

“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 

“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 

“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 

“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 

“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 

“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 

“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 

Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 

“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 

“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 

His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.

“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 

“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 

“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 

“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 

“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 

“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 

Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 

“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 

A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 

He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 

“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 

“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.

—-my requests are open—-

[urdepressedslut]

main masterlist

♡fluff ✦angst ❀possibly triggering ☻smut ✰series ✘dark

🔥over 1k notes to be added to a taglist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SOME CONTENT 18+

* You are responsible for your media consumption. Please do not proceed reading, if you have any kind of problem with any of the above written warnings.

One Shots

🔥 Tickle Fights ♡☻

→ Bucky discovers you’re ticklish, leading to a tickle fight which shifts into something not so innocent. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Just Like That ☻

→ While you two were supposed to be repairing Sam’s boat, you end up giving Bucky head instead. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Let Me Take Care of You ♡☻✦❀

→ Bucky is no virgin, but it’s been so long since someone’s touched him the way you do. He didn’t know you could make him feel so good— he’s addicted. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

🔥 Lovesick ♡✦❀

→ Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 I Get Scared Too ♡✦

→ You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Feels So Right | part two ♡☻

→ You’re so sexually frustrated you end up asking your dad’s best friend for advice. He’s more than happy to help you with your little problem. (Dbf!Bucky Barnes)

Birthday Blues ♡✦❀

→ It’s your birthday, and unfortunately you seem to be going through the birthday blues. Sam and Bucky won’t let you be upset on your special day, which leads to Bucky revealing his feelings for you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Tears of an Angel | part two ♡✦❀

→ You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Prisoner!Reader)

🔥 Love Hurts ♡✦❀

→ You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

The Collection ♡✦

→ Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into. (tfatws!Bucky Barnes)

Tragedy ♡✦❀

→ A new shapeshifter recruit has a hard time adjusting to the team, she feels out of place. Bucky knows what it's like to be the outsider and fight to have control, so he comforts her. (Platonic!Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

Off Day ♡✦❀

→ Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Void ♡✦❀

→ Working as a nurse at HYDRA, you find yourself intervening when you catch Alexander Pierce striking The Asset. You don’t even know this man, but you can’t just stand and watch him be beat down. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader)

You Could Never Hurt Me ♡✦❀

→ Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you. (cw!bucky barnes)

I Wanna Be Yours ♡✦❀

→ You were childhood friends with Steve and Bucky. You had always had a small crush on Bucky. But now as you’re older, you realize that harboring a crush on Bucky is hard. Especially watching him flirt with girls that aren’t you. (40's!bucky barnes)

More Than Friends ♡✦

→ You are eager to help Bucky prepare for a date, but he would rather stay home with you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Protect Me ♡✦❀

→ With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Out of My Control ♡✦❀

→ You awake in the middle of the night discovering that your water broke, you realize you’re having a baby— the only issue is that it’s several months early. Your hospital room gets tense as you and Bucky come to terms with the big changes. (Mob!bucky barnes)

Cuddles ♡✦

→ Bucky comforts you when you have bad period cramps. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Beauty and the Bucky ♡✦❀ (Beauty and the Beast!Au)

→ In search of your missing Father, you discover a castle far into the untouched forest. After knocking and no answer, you find the doors unlocked and venture inside. But beware— it might not be your Father you find inside. (Beast!bucky barnes x beauty!reader)

Series

🔥 Stray (masterlist)

→ Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes)

🔥 You're Mine, Sunshine (masterlist)

→ Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite? (Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader)

All I Know (masterlist)

→ Takes place right after the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky hides out in Bucharest. Without being controlled by HYDRA, he starts to receive flickers of memories. Who is this girl he keeps remembering? (cw!Bucky Barnes x OC!Fem!Reader)

The Girl and Her Golden Boys (masterlist)

→ A story of your life with your two best friends. Life was never simple for the three of you, and you didn’t care where you’d end up as long as it was together. How long can you all stay together until life will force you all apart? Will the strength of your bond be enough? (40's!Bucky Barnes/40's!Steve Rogers)

Love Me to Death (masterlist)

→ The avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course. (Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

[late-to-the-party-81]

Love, Lies & Electricity

AN: Hi all - here is my entry for week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer. This time it’s a Bucky x Reader fic. Thanks to all who voted in my poll a few weeks ago to decide who this reader should be.

Additional thanks and kisses to @drabbles-mc for beta-ing this.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 5 - We’re Exes

Summary: After Bucky Barnes broke your heart several months ago you never wanted to see him again. However, when he turns up and asks you to help him, Sam and Torres bring down a HYDRA base you can’t refuse as it will mean a chance to get payback on those who hurt you worse than he did.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

CW: Angst, Revenge, Sexual Content

There was a reason why you’d taken solace on the rooftop of an abandoned building in DUMBO - you wanted to be alone. You’d hoped that the omnipresent drizzle would have deterred most of those who might wish to contact you, even if they did manage to work out where you were. Despite this, you weren’t surprised in the least when Bucky appeared. 

Even with your back to him and your gaze unwaveringly fixated on the view before you, you knew he was there. He had an energy about him - probably something to do with the circuitry to his arm - that you’d found easy to pick up on when you’d first met him, let alone after you’d become attuned to it. 

“I told you not to bother me ever again, Barnes,” you stated in a flat tone, still avoiding looking at him.

There was a moment of silence, probably so he could consider his response, although you’d be surprised if he wasn’t expecting this type of reception.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but I - we - need you.”

Your lips twitched wryly. You should have known he wouldn’t be here of his own accord. You hadn’t had any contact from him since that day three months ago when you’d screamed and shouted and… he’d just stood there. Accepting your vitriol before turning and walking out of your life. The wound still felt raw. 

When you’d first met him, you’d fallen hard and fast. Bucky just seemed to get you - understand you like no-one else, and you thought that you’d known him too. The nights you’d spent together, just holding each other and talking about what you’d gone through in your lives - finding comfort and companionship that transcended the physical connection that you had. However, like every other good thing in your life, it had come crashing down around your ears, but unlike other times, you hadn’t seen it - the hurt and the betrayal - coming.

Bucky hadn’t gotten involved with you because of who you were - he’d approached you because of what you could do - what you could bring to a new team of Avengers. Someone else who saw your value in connection to your freakish abilities. He breached your walls, then shattered them from the inside. You were still rebuilding them.

“What’s the job?” you queried, knowing that if you dismissed him out of hand he’d probably just push harder and you’d end up screaming at him.

“There’s a pocket of Hydra holdouts in a bunker in Massachusetts,” he rumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to control your physical reaction to his presence. “We can’t find a way in, and need the element of surprise. You’ve got the skills we need.”

You snorted. Of course it was all about your powers.

“Who’s asking? The White Wolf or Bucky Barnes?” You couldn’t keep the sneer from your voice.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t rise to it, instead asking, “Would it make a difference?”

A loud sigh left your throat. “I suppose you’re right. You knew I was in from the word ‘HYDRA’.”

You pushed yourself up from the roof ledge and finally turned to face him. The rain had plastered his dark brown hair to his face, making it look black. Droplets of water ran down the divot in his chin, before dripping off the end. Why did he have to be so beautiful? If you were that sodden you’d just look like a drowned rat, so you gave a quick thanks to the small electrical field you’d generated around you that stopped the rain from making contact.

“Let’s get this over with then.” Your voice - and heart - was already weary. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to never seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t answer, instead just giving you a look you couldn’t interpret before turning and walking towards the stairwell. You followed in his wake.

The journey upstate to the compound hadn’t been too arduous. Both you and Bucky had ridden your bikes, which had the dual advantage of making it easy to slip through the traffic and also negated the need for small talk. You hadn’t actually said a word to him since leaving the rooftop and you were totally fine with that.

You’d greeted Sam with a clipped ‘Hello’ and just stared through Torres when he’d shyly raised a hand in your direction. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know them.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Bucky had let out a small cough and suggested that you all go through to the briefing room and you’d nodded your assent. Now the four of you were gathered around the holographic blueprints.

“Our main issues,” said Sam, “are these gun turrets.” He pointed out the towers at each corner of the building. “Our intel says they are energy-based, which means if they can get disabled from inside the three of us should be able to get in easier.”

“That’s what we’re hoping you can do,” added Torres, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. It almost made you smile. Almost.

Sam continued. “Once we’re in, we aren’t expecting you to hang around. We know you aren’t a big fan of working with us.”

That was an understatement if ever you’d heard one, but there were bigger motivational factors involved. “You really think I’m gonna turn tail and not take the opportunity to get some payback?” you asked with a raised brow. “You don’t know me at all, Sam.”

A look of sympathy immediately took over his face. “I understand why you feel this way, but this isn’t what this mission is about. We need to shut them down and extract all the data.”

You frowned. You don’t know why you expected a different response from the new Captain America. “But you know that if we don’t stop them - neutralise every single one of them - then they’ll just regroup. Reform. We’ll - You’ll - be no better off than you were before and you’ll just have to hunt them down again another day.” The words came out sharply as your frustration grew.

“We’re not going there with the express intent of murdering people.” Sam bit back. “I’m a realist - I understand that there will be deaths - but I’m not going out of my way to create the highest body count possible.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “You’re a bleeding heart, Wilson. No mercy should be shown to HYDRA because they sure as hell won’t show you any.”

You turned on your heel and stalked from the room, walking along the corridor until you reached one of the glass walls that allowed you to look out over the forest surrounding the semi-secret base. You weren’t even there a minute before you felt a prickle up your spine. Your hands, that had been resting on your ribs where your arms were crossed, curled into fists.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you ground out between gritted teeth. He moved to stand beside you, leaning on the railing, and you could see him out of your peripheral vision.

“He’s a good man, you know. It’s why Steve gave him the shield and not me. He knew that for the mantle of Captain America you have to have some level of optimism.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “But it just seems so pointless.”

“You know I get it. We have a different outlook, you and I. As much as Sam can empathise with what we went through, try his best to understand, he will never get it. Much the same way that I can’t ever fully understand what it was like for him, being who he is, to grow up in this America. We just have to stick to our truths, and bend once in a while when it’s prudent to do so.” He turned towards you then, flashing a wry grin and you couldn’t help but turn your head as well. “And besides, what Wilson doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Bucky pushed away from the railing and started to walk back towards the conference room. Part way along he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You coming? We’ve got some HYDRA ass to kick. And by kick, I mean shoot in the head.”

Large hands spanned your waist, gripping firmly but not cruelly. Your legs were hooked over the arms connected to them, holding you wide open. Your eyes, only open a crack, could see the way his dark hair flopped down in front of his face, could see the way his body glistened with sweat as he pumped in and out of you. His muscles strained and his jaw was set.

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky exclaimed. “Feels so fucking good.” Your only reply was a whine as you dropped a hand down between you to strum at your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good. Wanna feel you come.” If you’d been capable of giggling at his statement you would have, because you’d come twice already - once on his face and once on his fingers. The man was insatiable for your pleasure. You weren’t gonna complain about it.

“Bucky!” you breathed out, not sure what you were actually trying to say, but hoping he could pick up on the tone. The air crackled, its molecules excited by your semi-conscious manipulation of the electric field around you. You could feel yourself rushing towards that peak, your core clenching - pulsing - around where Bucky was filling you with each delicious thrust.

He dropped his head, taking one of your pebbled nipples in his mouth and sucked on it. The sensation pulled tightly on the invisible thread that ran through your body to where the pair of you were joined. Tighter. Firmer. Higher…

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright as you gulped in lungful after lungful of air. Your hands shook and your skin was sweaty and you silently cursed Bucky Barnes as you flopped back down and pressed one of the pillows over your face. You hadn’t had a sex dream about him in weeks, but it stood to reason that as he was back disrupting your waking hours he’d do the same to your sleep as well.

Frustration welled up inside of you, and with a grunt you threw the pillow across the room, hearing it thud against the generic dresser. You were in one of the ‘guest’ rooms at the compound. White walls. White furniture. Grey bedding, curtains and carpet. It was fucking depressing. You were just glad that you weren’t going to be here for long. Just a few more days of going through the reconnaissance intel and running some training drills in the state of the art suite downstairs and then you’d be on the mission for real. Then, when it was over, you were going to leave - leave New York. Leave the state. Heck, you might even leave the country. 

You flipped over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in, but every time you closed your eyes your mind conjured the image of Bucky looking at you as if you were the only thing in his world that had meaning. Sleep was a long time coming.

Three mornings later and you were up early, just finishing getting dressed where there was a knock on your bedroom door. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know who it was. Lightly slapping your hands against your legs, you strode over and opened the door. Bucky stood there, his fingers all twisted around each other until he seemed to jump at the realisation of what he was doing and put them both behind his back. A smile played at the corners of your mouth. The highlight of the last few days had been the discovery that Bucky was as discombobulated by your presence as you were by his. The only difference was that you seemed to be able to hide it better. That knowledge had allowed you to sleep better the last few nights - the schadenfreude was delicious. And if you’d then played up to it - accidentally rubbed past him in small spaces, or laugh and flirt with a sweetly awkward Joaquin? Well it was exactly what Bucky deserved in your opinion.

You looked up at him with a raised brow and leant against the door, arms folded across your breasts, and you noted the minute flicker of his gaze down and then back up. “Can I help you, Buck?” 

He scowled as you over-pronounced the start and end of his nickname. “I came to see if you were ready. We need to leave in twenty.”

“It’s not my first rodeo, Sargent, a fact you well know. As you can see,” you gestured down the length of your body with your hand, “I managed to get dressed all on my own. I can manage to achieve a surprising amount of things without your help.”

You pushed away from the door and snagged your go back from the floor. It didn’t have a lot in it because unlike the others you only relied on your abilities for both offence and defence. No guns, knives, vibranium arms, shields or wings.

Bucky didn’t move away as you exited your room, causing you to brush against him to get by. As you did so, pointedly not looking at him, his right hand shot out and snagged your upper arm. “Honey, please can we t-”

You shook your arm free angrily. “You don’t get to call me that,” you hissed. “You lost that right months ago. And no, we’re not gonna talk. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. After this mission we never see each other again.” With that, you turned your back on him and stalked in the direction of the hanger. He didn’t try to stop you and you wondered why you felt a lump in the pit of your stomach about it.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Okey, it's very concerning even from Peggy Carter fans self that in what if that Peggy immediately recognize Bucky just looking his eyes....

I think MCU want said that Peggy is 'more close' to Bucky or more awesome than Steve because how easy she can recognize him rather than Steve his bestfriend/his brother. Didn't they realize that they basically made PC becoming very sus and she not look 'heroic' at all?

What I get in what of they intended made PC look more awesome than Steve but somehow it make her look arrogant and annoying and worst of all they made other characters keep praised her like Melina Markov (Natasha 'fake' mom) and so on.

Ugh can MCU make other characters not praised other characters to make them look awsome, prove it and showing it to us that they are awsome

Now we in era of claimed it and not showing it

I think they got carried away In What If. They wanted to show her as this capable woman who can recognize Bucky by his eyes only and with his mask on, but they didn't realize that in doing so there are only two options: either she was close to him before Hydra or she had heard about the Winter Soldiers. MCU canon tells us the former is not the case since she couldn't care less about him, so we're left with the latter, which is proved later by Howard's line when he confirms he had heard the rumours.

After S1 of What If we had a bunch of articles saying she was a better Captain than Steve. I don't know if those people realize that the shield is not what made Steve a hero, but then again taking into account Marvel's treatment of Steve post-CW, maybe they don't understand that themselves.

I don't see why Melina would idolize someone like Saint Maggy anyway. Being a hero is not only a matter of power, it's about taking action when something goes wrong, whether it impacts you personally or not. It's Steve's "If I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it." Saint Margaret did nothing about the red room, she did nothing to help Bucky after he worked with them, they were content with "hearing rumours" and doing nothing about it. What's heroic about that?

When the characters are well written, they don't need those around them to praise their every move and existence. The audience is captivated by their actions and their words enough to not need a guiding hand telling us to love them. This is what Marvel is failing at in these new phases. In the past they would focus on the characters and let the audience decide who got a big fanbase and who didn't. Now they're trying to push certain characters forward and telling us we have to love them, and that's not how it works.

[stuckyfingers]

CATWS anniversary: Day 3, SHIELD | March 28th » Prompts: compromised for @catws-anniversary

Chapter Summary: Hydra bugs Steve's apartment and captures a particularly volatile tape.

Chapter Word count: 800

CW: Soft Hydra Trash Party anti autistic ableism (by the strike team), non consensual voyeurism, mentions of sexual assault, masturbation, blackmail, sex tape ....kinda. sexual violence implied

Brock smirked as he was handed the drive. His back may have been aching from being slammed into the roof of the elevator but his cheeks ached more from the heady grin he was trying to suppress.

The team nursing their wounds from being knocked utterly unconscious had never been this eager to get their hands on the tiny oblong plastic chip. And they all knew how pathetic it was as soldiers to gain satisfaction this way, but they were a covert team after all. Not just a covert team, but the manpower of HYDRA. Dirty play was the only thing the Nazis ever really did.

Rollins opened up a laptop and tipped his head at the drive in Rumlows hand. "You gonna hold that or-?"

The team perked up as Brock let Rollins insert it into a USB port and click through files.

"05/09/2013." Brock called out. "It starts from there."

Sitwell strode into the room with his infuriating jaunt at that very moment, looking interestedly at the screen to catch a glimpse. " What, Rumlow? Already been through them?"

Brock shrugged. "He wasn't wrong when he said it felt personal. It kinda was."

Rollins leered as the file loaded and the content began to play in mp4.

Captain America himself, as seen from the bookcase in his room, was pacing around and undressing at the same time. The man looked harrowed and a bit nervous at first, and it wasn't exactly the sexy kinda strip show.

But he seemed to calm down after removing his pants, and sat on the bed to wring and flap his hands while staring into nothing in particular.

Sitwell scoffed. "Is he autistic or something?"

Rollins grinned, "Wish we got a meltdown though. You think we can get the asset to-"

"shh, here it is" Brock cut him off. "You'll love this."

Rogers lay back down on the bed and absent mindedly palmed his crotch. And that absent palming turned into something less innocent as a huge bulge began to tent his grey boxers. Rogers moaned loud enough to be caught by the camera.

The team exchanged snickers and cackles as Rogers slipped off his underwear to reveal a long, pink cock. That thing was almost as long as a glock 34.

He continued his minstrations on himself, albeit quieter now. It didn't get much interesting until he came, and spilled all over his hands.

"wait, it's just started." Rumlow leered at the team.

They burst into racous laughter as the golden boy of America took his own cum and lubed his hole with it. Rogers had still not gone soft.

Brock could hear sitwell gasp and chuckle when Rogers reached for the bedside cabinet and pulled out a comically large dildo.

Brock was snorting now, " I can't make this up, boys. The bitch had saved a buttplug on his wishlist but never bought it."

" Oh I can think of a replacement..." Rollins grinned.

"I think we all can." Brock said, turning back to the beautifully incriminating video of Rogers fucking himself hands free.

"Hey, Rollins..." Sitwell said, watching Rogers moan on the screen. "what did you say about the asset?"

"Make him fuck his bitch. I want the faggot fucking himself on a cattle prod next."

The team laughed in vengeful mirth, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Secretary Pierce walked in without invitation, and they all rose to greet him. The shame set in for some, because the inscrutable expression on the Hydra commanders face didn't promise mercy.

"I see you boys are enjoying yourselves..." He smiled, seeing the video playing.

"were collecting data for any potential... negotiations with our target, Sir."

Pierce regarded the scene on tape and his smile thankfully widened. "Good. Find a point of contact, and this can turn things to our tide, even if it doesn't convince Rogers. And by that I mean it won't if you don't play it right. Sitwell."

"yes, sir."

" Frame this... from what you've learnt about our Captain. Make this stall him. We're releasing the asset."

"Yes, Sir."

"And STRIKE. You -"

A notification popped up on their radar. Another hard drive had been opened on a MacBook Pro somewhere in a mall in Manhattan.

"well, there you have it." Pierce nodded .

"Team, protocol 166- move out!" Brock barked. The team began gearing up in a clatter of weapons and Armor.

He raised a fist in the air at Pierce before leaving. "Hail hydra"

Sitwell did the same before proceeding to coordinate their transport.

Pierce sighed contentedly and regarded the video that was still playing. Rogers finally came for the second time, spilling all over his abdomen.

"Bucky..." Pierce could hear the name clearly from the man's lips.

The secretary smirked. He had a call to make.

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 13: share some of your favorite niche whump tags!

ooooh, this was a very interesting challenge! 💖

stoic whumpee is delightful, obviously. misunderstanding or miscommunication is extremely fun because that trope always gives me whumperflies. social whump is delicious and i wish there was more of it (i'm not sure everyone tags it like this but it describes situations where a team member is being hurt by their teammates or just any whumpy social ostracization). i also love villain whump. also, any variety of monster whumpee tag - vampire whumpee and werewolf whumpee are especially delicious!

when it comes to fandom tags, if you are into really gnarly shit, especially cruel noncon whump, do yourself a favor and check out hydra trash party (requisite cw's for rough content but if that's your vibe, there's so much good shit in that tag). on ao3 "(insert character) needs a hug" is often great for emotional whump!

these are just some of my favorite tags that comes to mind and some of my most revisited on my own blog! 💖

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 😈😈😈💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Hail Hydra - Chapter Seven "The Only Way to Deal With an Unfree World is to Become So Absolutely Free That Your Very Existence is an Act of Rebellion."

Bucky gives rebellion another go – and his only comfort is taken from him. CW: Canon-typical violence, neglect, locked outside in the cold, homophobia, shock collar, cliffhanger. Prompts filled: ‘First Night’, December 7th prompt, Dead Dove December; ‘Broken’, December 7th  Prompt, Hurtcember 2023; ‘Fainting’, December 7th prompt, Whumpcember; ‘Locked Outside’, Winter Wonderland Bingo; ‘You’re Insane!’, Multifandom Flash (Double).

Check it out on AO3 here, or below the KR with the boards!

I woke slowly, pressing closer to the warm, slender body half-beneath me, comforted by gentle hand stroking along my spine, unerring over healing wounds and fading scars. “Hey,” I whispered, shifting to rest on my chin and meet his gaze, his free hand propped behind his head to smile softly at me. “Good morning,” he breathed, fingertips moving to skirt my jaw affectionately. “I… I must go. It is getting later than I would like… I’m sorry.” I nodded once, letting those fingers guide my chin up to brush my lips against his, humming contentedly. “It’s okay… I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.” He kissed my forehead gently, slowly easing my body from his, and I couldn’t help but wince at the cold floor on against my sleep-warmed skin. “Try and get some more rest before Ivan brings your breakfast, Bucky. I will see you tonight.” I nodded softly, wincing at the sunrise that came through the door as he opened it and lighting him from behind. Ethereal.

Ivan’s typical routine was to open my cell door, toss the tray onto the floor – often scattering most of the contents onto the concrete – and back out, leaving me to eat in silence until I was called upon for more torturous experiments. But the light under the door brightened, and still, nobody came. The hours trickled by slowly, my boredom so great that I almost began to miss the torture by the time I finally heard the grate of the bolt on the door. “Американский. On your feet.” “I haven’t had breakfast,” I growled, fingers clenching into a stubborn fist, raising my head where I was propped against the wall. Short of a few broken toes, smashed with a hammer and healing slowly, I was relatively unharmed, and would not be going quietly after a day of endless waiting. All I had here was the vague routine, and taking it from me had threatened to drive me mad; I would not be meek and compliant for their ease today, no matter what they threatened me with. “Is that the next plan? To starve me out?” He snorted, and my body crumbled beneath me as he hit the control in his hand, muscles spasming automatically at the electricity flowing through my bones. My jaw clenched unconsciously, biting back the agonised scream building in my throat as he approached me. “Yпрямый Американский.” Despite my pain, the second the convulsions stopped I lashed out, his own groan of pain sounding alongside the crack of his snapping tibia as my fist collided with his shin. I scrambled upright as his leg folded grotesquely beneath him, scrabbling in a panicked excitement to my feet and towards the door. I barely made it two steps before he hit the controls once more, sending me to the ground, cursing my idiocy and clawing at the concrete, the current frying my mind until I faded from consciousness.

Awareness came slowly, with a biting wind on my bare skin and heavy weights around my limbs, shivering even in my forced sleep as I blinked into the darkness. “You will not stand? You will kneel instead.” My eyes raised at the voice, and I shifted to raise my head, but found a strong rod keeping my head bowed and knees bent. Snow swirled, eliciting another shiver, and I realised for the first time that I was outside, the drifts around my legs stretching as far as I could see, interrupted only by a pair of black boots. “Chilly out here in the evening, is it not? I thought you would be tired of the cold.” “Why am I out here?” I spat, watching the clouds formed by my words drift beyond my eyeline. “This? Oh, there is no experiment here, Американский. This… Is punishment.” The doctor’s grin was predatory as he squatted before me, eyes sharp when they found mine. “You and that предатель have been very bad boys.” “Предатель?” He smirked viciously, moving forward to drag me around by the hair, eliciting a pained hiss. My eyes rose just high enough to see the snow-smeared outline of another person opposite me, restrained in a similar manner. “Traitor.” “B-B-Bucky,” the man opposite stuttered, his teeth chattering audibly, and as I squinted through the dusk I found him dressed only in his shorts, bare legs submerged in snow, my heart stopping as pale eyes found mine. “Aleksi,” I breathed, bile raising in my throat. “No…” I can survive this, but he can’t. “Please,” I whispered, turning my eyes to the doctor once more. “Please. You can do what you want to me. I won’t fight you anymore. Please, leave him be.” He simply smiled once more, shaking his head. “Oh, I do not think so. He does not deserve forgiveness, and neither do you. Maybe watching your lover die will break your spirit.” “No!” I snarled, straining against the chains that held me fast, the bar at my back digging into my skull as I fought to straighten my head until warm liquid dripped steadily onto my bare shoulders. “You can’t do this! You’re insane!” I cried, my muscles aching as I fought. “At least I am no педик,” he spat, leaning forward with dark eyes. “Faggot.” I let out a roar of pure hatred, lunging as best my restraints allowed, hand curled into a fist as I trashed – but I was too weak, and held too fast. “Bucky.” My eyes shifted automatically at the murmur, my sensitive hearing picking up his voice even over the whirling snow and the sound of my own heart pounding. “Bucky… I-It’s okay. It’s okay.” “No. No!” I roared, tugging harder, the cuff around my throat cutting off my breath and forcing me to relent. “It’s o-okay,” he repeated, hands shaking violently as they rose to placate me. “I do not regret my actions. I-I knew this cou-could be how it ends. It is ok-okay.” “No,” I whispered, tears filling and spilling from eyes, voice cracked and broken. “It… It was just once. It was the first night. It was a mistake- it won’t happen again. Please… Please don’t do this.” The doctor smiled once more, moving closer to me, his breath warm and scotch-scented on my face. “Beg.” “Please,” I breathed immediately, trembling. “I’ll do anything. Don’t kill him – not for me. I’ll do anything you want. Please. I won’t fight; I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, just… Let him go.” He straightened up once more, hands curling into fists by his sides as he considered my request. “You want me to show him mercy? You’ll behave?” “Yes! Yes, please. Please!” I begged, straining once more. “I’ll do anything you ask of me!” He took a step back, body shifting slightly as he turned to consider the man restrained opposite me, shaking violently from the cold.

@whumpcember @hurtcember @deaddovedec @multifandom-flash @seasonaldelightsbingo

[demystifiedstardust]

My 30 days of linktypes challenge

Day 22: How has your linking experience been so far? Positive? Negative? Mixed?

Offline, my experience has been great.

Online... I've been trying to keep this positive. I've been trying. Really, really trying.

But... I can't do it anymore, not for today’s topic. I'm going to be real, and I'm going to be raw.

Cw negativity, alterhuman respectability politics, the KFF situation, community gatekeeping, general kin drama, overall intense accusatory tone at the general community, no tone tags, essay-length post

These content warnings are so readers can make an informed decision on if they want to expose themselves to this rant. By opening the readmore, you acknowledge these content warnings.

My experience online leaves a lot to be desired.

The linking tags can be glacial, so I peek into larger adjacent tags as well. But... I'm not into flags or coining or mood/stimboards, and I've got no interest in the currently trending quadrobics and masks because it's mostly not relevant to my identity, so a lot of what's left, other than reading about experiences (which I love to read!) are... discourse, infighting, and vagueposting drama, a never-ending hydra of malaise that self-perpetuates (watch this very post get vagued by someone, guaranteed).

Usually the discourse hydra balances itself out by the sense of community, but my sense of belonging is at a 15-year low. Alterhumanity is supposed to be inclusive, but let's be real, in practice it's for therians and kin exclusively, and maaaaaybe plurality if you squint. I don't fit those boxes, and as a result I feel barely tolerated, much less welcome (and that's before factoring in community trends and demographics).

I appreciate the occasional positivity post that catches my view, genuinely, even when it usually boils down to “THIS LABEL IS VALID!”. I wish I could take them to heart; I struggle to do so when I feel so unwanted and quarantined in the first place. Admitting any degree of voluntariness at all has always been controversial as long as I've been lurking fictionfolk spaces, and there's an undercurrent of pressure to not admit it, lest the community be seen as advanced roleplay.

Moreover, particularly to this part of myself, I have no memories of a past or concurrent life as Aether, which is another pillar of experience that is standard enough to be assumed. Talking about and comparing memories is a huge chunk of the fictionfolk community experience that is inaccessible to me, and it does evoke judgment in others when I have no memories to share. I only have my mundane earthly life. While my experiencing of strong emotions and intense longing for things that can never be in this world are common experiences amongst these spaces, they play second fiddle to the golden standard of memories, a narrative that forms the core of the fictionfolk community.

It has always felt like my options have been either to weave lies about myself and actually get to participate--and what's the point of that when it's a self-reflection and self-actualization thing to begin with (for me, at least)?--or tell the truth upfront and hope that people who won't give me grief over my "lesser" experience just... magically find me before I burn out again.

Okay, I have no pretty transition for this. That was the sad, mopey, emo part written days ago. Now for the bitter and indignatious resentment.

In the time between the creation of this blog and the closure of my last blog (which was shortly before the massive Kin Is Involuntary push, circa Covid times), it feels like I got ejected from my own space. I'm obviously mourning it on some level, but I'm not gonna lie, I'm also spiteful. Instead of actually addressing the ROOT PROBLEM of KFF bastardizing "identify as" into "identify with" and the increasing ableism of KFF, the response of the kin community was to redefine kin to throw those with voluntary and quoiluntary experiences under the bus. To the surprise of absolutely no one, redefining kinity by throwing us under the bus did not solve the KFF problems, because splitting us off was only nominally about addressing KFF; in practice, it was about sending a very particular message. It was about telling voluntaries and quoiluntaries that our identities aren't serious enough for you and that we're not welcome in kin spaces. 

Can you imagine how it felt for me to return to this? A decade of being quiet about my voluntary and quoiluntariness and bending to the pressure of respectability politics, and all it took was a break of a few years to push me out of the label I had given up my voice for. The kin community decided for me that my experience has less meaning than theirs*. It's very telling that the label the kin community offered like a olive branch to "fix" the problem has that very community debating the overall validity of the very label they themselves offered, TO THIS DAY. 

I also want you to think about who linking terminology is most widely spread by, pushed by, and policed by. I’ll give you a hint: look at posts telling others that they need to call themselves linkers, and take a peek at the poster’s blog or profile. Were most linking terms even coined by voluntaries and quoiluntaries? I honestly don’t know, but in light of the context of how linking terms came to be, I have a feeling the answer is no. 

I could try to keep asserting myself as kin, as I've seen some other voluntaries and quoiluntaries do, but the kin community has been crystal clear about wanting me out of it, so I will respect its right to not be associated with me. Honestly, it's mutual now. Do you think I want to keep using the language of the community who has already shown me exactly how little they think of me and others like me?

I've enjoyed the journaling aspect of this blog so far. But the overarching climate of the alterhuman community across every online space–not just Tumblr–makes it one of the most hostile communities I've ever been in**. The alterhuman community performatively roleplays acceptance for those that feel othered and preaches personal authenticity while feverishly curating a space where you must experience your authentic and highly-personal identity in the correct way. If there were another pre-existing community willing to accept me being literally a fictional being as a serious long-term part of my selfhood, I'd jump ship to there in a heartbeart and leave the memories behind. I have been trying so, so hard to put a positive spin on linking, in spite of the rigid social stratification baked into it, because I craved acceptance. 

But you know what?

I deserve more than this. I deserve a community who values me. I'm better than staying here in this community who wants to create a validity hierarchy of the goddamn experience of selfhood. As long as this community remains obsessed with what constitutes the “right” way to experience life, I have no home here.

Not all that long ago, I thought the alterhuman community would be a safe space for me to thrive. I thought it was a place that, because it was a gathering of those othered by human society and human bodies, would understand me and accept me for who I am. I’m embarrassed for believing it in the first place, but I’m more embarrassed for believing it for so long in the face of evidence to the contrary.

I can recognize when I need to leave the room. In order to grow, the only solution for me is to stop interacting with the community and move on.*** For myself and my own good, I’m done entertaining the illusion that this is my in-group. It hurts to say it, but this was never my in-group to begin with, because alterhumanity never had respect for the authentic me. It is painful to recognize, but acceptance is the first step of moving on with my life.

My offline life is far from glamorous. If I had to choose a few words to describe my offline community, I would call it judgemental, rural, and insular. Even so, change starts with me. This is why I've been trying to cultivate the fictional and monster-creature sides of myself offline. Baring my soul offline requires bravery, but the online alterhuman community has given me little benefit for the soul I’ve poured out to it over the years. I can’t keep living like this. I refuse to keep living like this.

I deserve more.

*Hmm, this is starting to remind me of another group of alterhuman-identifying folks with an awfully similar problem of being pushed out of the supposedly inclusive alterhuman umbrella… it’s almost like this is a recurring problem…

**Tumblr is still by and far the calmest fictionfolk community with regular traffic and meaningful discussion that I've ever experienced. I feel like that speaks volumes by itself about what kind of environment this community fosters at large.

***Not that anyone needed my input or permission, but I don't blame anyone who was watching me for alterhuman community reasons for unfollowing or blocking me for this rant. My sense of self isn't going anywhere and I plan to continue to talk about my fictionhood and not-so-human experiences, but this probably isn’t what you signed up to see. I'm going to finish off my 30 days challenge before tackling the detangling of myself from the alterhuman ecosystem of labels and vocabulary. 

To fictionfolk: If you're thinking about dropping into my notifications, keep in mind that approximately 15 years ago, the fledgling fictionkin community was my community. You don't need to tell me about what it was like, because I was there. I already know what it was like. I lived it. My experience probably wasn't one-to-one with your experience, but it is still my lived experience. You cannot and will not convince me my lived experience is wrong.

To trolls and butthurt shit-stirrers with no reading comprehension skills: I'm just going to block you.

[zimniyxprizrak-a]

QUICK REMINDER THAT MUN =/= THE MUSE!!! I run a lot of blogs , and Bucky is the blog I use for exploring more edgy topics. This does not mean I ( the mun ) condone anything that happens in threads.

A lot of fucked up shit has happened to Bucky in his story , both in the mcu and the comics , and as someone who has survived his share of abuse , I see similarities in myself and Bucky. The headcanons I write about him will be dark on occasion , and I will not be bothered if you don't want to follow for your own mental health. In fact , I appreciate it. ALL TRIGGERING HEADCANONS WILL BE TAGGED FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY, and especially triggering content will always be under a read more.

I will also be exploring Bucky's time with HYDRA , as it's something that is shied away from and I have been exploring for my own catharses at times. ( we all do this with our muses to a degree. ) ALL THREADS IN THAT TIMELINE WILL BE UNDER A READ MORE. I understand that stuff is incredibly triggering for people and while I do explore those themes , I do want to protect my followers. and any posts involving HYDRA muses will be tagged "cw hydra muse".

Sorry for the long rant. I just felt the need to put some of this stuff out there so nobody is shocked by what might be posted on this blog. Again , no hard feelings if this is not the blog for you , the rest of my blogs I keep much more tame I promise.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Blood Moon

Marc Spector/Moon Knight (Spider-Man Vengeance of Venom) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, Angst, Angst, mentions of child death, mentions of death, descriptions of injuries, some jealousy(?) on Marc's part

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I'm ngl I'm struggling with this one because I'm impatient as hell lmao. But I'm putting Diatrice in the story because it makes for good angst and trauma for our favourite white-clad hero!

Taglist: @badbishsblog

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 3

He went hunting after he left Avengers Tower. Sure, he took the missions Director Fury sent him on, but he held his rage in check, reserving the brunt of it for Green Goblin, who was still at large.

He completed the short missions from Fury, stopping a Hydra cell, stopping some shitty would-be supervillain from doing something to the unsuspecting populace of New York.

It usually helped him relax a bit, to have something to break the bleak, gray monotony he'd been living in since he lost his little girl.

But right now he was consumed once again with rage, with anger. And a little something else...

Guilt?

Was he feeling guilty? About driving you away and treating you the way he did, not realizing that being happy and peppy might be your own way of coping with the pain and loss of your family's deaths?

Like his was to shut everyone out, lock himself away and hide from society after...

He hated it when he thought too much.

But he hated it even more when he saw the photos attached to your file. The ones of you pulled from the wreckage of your family's car, the images of the vehicle being hauled out of the river, the front end looking like it had been smashed in by a runaway freight train.

The road had been deserted, the weather rainy and grim, visibility low.

They blamed it on some freak accident, that your father must have lost control in the rain, hydroplaned and crashed through the barriers on the bridge, the impact of the river below crushing the front, killing you, your mother, and older brother.

You had been pulled out, some kind of miracle allowing you to have an air pocket to breathe, your tiny body's functions slowing to a crawl as the icy water lowered your body temperature, slowing your heart down and keeping you from panicking too badly to conserve your oxygen you were graced with.

He couldn't imagine how you felt. Being stuck in the back seat, staring at the remains of your parents and brother, crying, reaching, clawing, screaming for them to wake up again, that you were scared and in need of their reassuring comfort.

Only to be greeted with eerie silence as the car sunk, water flooded in, mangled bodies sitting with you.

His heart felt like it was breaking when he'd read further into the child psychiatrist's notes on you.

She said that you couldn't seem to grasp the concept, that you assumed they had gotten hurt and were asleep. Death was completely new and foreign to you, not understanding that you were now alone, possibly to be thrown into the system and forgotten by the law.

You were kept in the hospital for a month.

A psych ward for three.

And then you were put into the arms of strangers.

But you were confused, scared, and angry.

You didn't understand why you couldn't return to the house you were born in, the house you had lived in with your brother and mother and father. The house where you only knew the touch of love.

But...

Children in the system are often targets of abuse.

And you being the special thing that you were--alone and angry, especially once your powers manifested--was no exception.

You fought with other children, would bite and punch adults who got too close to you for too long.

You would run away constantly.

And always you'd be whisked off by a social worker to be placed in the next strange house full of the same blurred faces.

Until you ran away. Again, and again, and again.

You stayed in and out of homes until finally, nobody wanted you. You were thrown into a group home for "troubled" youths.

You still fought. Bare knuckle fist fights that left flecks of blood on your clothes and your hands torn and bloody.

And then you got involved with fight clubs, your strength and size betraying each other, but making the best partnership as you pummeled your larger opponents, winning the prize money and squirreling it away in a hidden alcove in the attic of your group home until you were old enough to get out on your own.

The first night alone, you left your motel room only to be greeted with the sight of an elderly couple on a trip being shaken down for what little money they had left for their vacation.

You refrained from beating the muggers unconscious, instead settling for using their belts to bind their hands together behind their backs, giving the stolen property back, the couple calling you a little angel for saving them

And it was from there that you decided you wanted to be more.

You wanted to be more and some bloody underground boxing champion.

You wanted to be a hero.

A little black-clothed angel who thrived in the night.

And that was what hurt Marc the most.

Despite everything that's happened to you, you still had the goodness left inside of you to care for others, to put yourself in the path of a bullet for a virtual stranger just so they wouldn't get hurt.

There were more.

Hospital reports, incident reports, small news articles that got buried in the margins of the more pressing news of New York and the world around it.

Your psych reports spoke the loudest, from the notes of the psychiatrist that SHIELD had for the various heroes on their payroll.

You still struggled with your family's deaths. You still had nightmares, the guilt of being the only survivor. The pain of knowing that as a child, some of those strangers you fought against did genuinely care about you, but your belligerence and rage and fear chased them away.

You had nightmares of the broken bodies of your family turning around to look at you as you were strapped into the back of the car, the water replaced with blood as they mocked you, blamed you; said things you knew logically they never would have.

You would cover your ears as the blood frozen your body and overtook the small pocket of air you had, until you were drowning in it.

Your dreams weren't unlike his own.

The memory of coming home after receiving a ghastly phone call from home.

The voice of a man, deep and raspy as he taunted him. He could hear his daughter and her babysitter in the background, crying and begging from behind their gags to be let go.

He took off immediately, breaking off his mission report to Fury, the man hot on his heels.

He didn't make it in time.

He found them there, bloody, bullets and signs of torture on them.

The babysitter, Sandra was laid protectively over top of his daughter, Diatrice; in her last moments she tried to use herself as a shield to keep the bullets from killing the little girl.

But it had been in vain.

They were both dead.

The bloody note pinned to the fridge reading:

'Better luck next time. Maybe if you were fast enough, Moon Knight would have been able to save your little girl.

I'll see you again. I'll take everything you have.

-R.'

He went to ground after that. And it was during the Symbiote invasion that he met Peter Parker, AKA Spider-Man, and his aunt May.

"With great power, comes great responsibility."

Ben Parker truly was a wise man.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

He'd found the Goblin, beat him to a bloody pulp and tossed him in a cell.

He wasn't sure why he was so angry and so violent with him. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was just rage he bottled up for too long, coming out as he read your heartbreaking life story like some disturbing drama novel.

He felt a stabbing pain in his chest when he pictured you lying broken, half dead and pinned to that wall by his glider. Every blow he landed, he saw your pained face, your smile, heard your laugh.

After Goblin was finally beaten and unconscious he realized...

He was lonely.

And you were trying to be exuberant and happy because unlike him, you had read his file. You volunteered to be his partner where others toed the line solely because you saw in him a kindred spirit and wanted to help him heal.

And he had pushed you away, dismissing you as childish and foolhardy...

The city hailed him a hero, as with the others (Minus J Jonah and his usual bullshit about superheroes secretly being supervillains.).

But deep inside he knew Goblin would escape again, he always did.

They always do.

And he'd be there to track them down and drag them back to face justice.

Marc shouldered his duffel containing his gear as he headed out of Fury's office, to your room, now happy that his name was no longer blacklisted.

After two weeks of you being laid up, he could finally see you, apologize for being an idiot and insulting you.

That he understood you; probably better than anyone else in SHIELD, anyone else in the world, could understand.

He'd made it past Doctor Ross (that woman made him feel scrutinized all the way through in a way that made him uncomfortable.)

Talking with Cap, he realized it was because she really could see through him.

She had x-ray vision. It's what made her such a good doctor.

It shouldn't have made him feel uncomfortable as it did.

He stood outside your door, as you already had a visitor and he still had to abide by the one visitor at a time policy.

But he felt an uncomfortable and strange feeling twist in his gut when he looked through the window on your door.

You were in there, as was Doctor Stephen Strange.

And he was being really...

...really...

Familiar with you.

He thought maybe it was protectiveness welling up in him, the way his fists clenched as Stephen held your hand, telling you something that made you giggle, a fresh bouquet of otherworldly flowers.

He felt something hot and... and angry pool in his gut when he watched Stephen lean in, giving a sly wink and saying something to you.

You laughed again.

Why was he feeling like this?

You were an adult, you could protect yourself. You didn't need his protection, he reasoned.

You didn't...

Stephen kissed your knuckles and he noticed the blush creep in your cheeks.

It was a straw that broke the camel's back.

He opened the door and walked in, jaw set tight.

Your blushing and shy demeanor instantly changed when you spotted him; face no longer flushed as your brows furrowed and a frown replaced the smile on your lips.

"Ugh... Stephen, I'll see you later. We can discuss our conversation later." You sigh at him.

"Of course." He smiled at you, giving a soft bow before giving Marc a polite smile and nod as he opened a portal and stepped through, leaving the two of you alone.

"What do you want." You say, your voice dripping with ire.

"I..." He cleared his throat, which felt unusually tight. He felt the heat dissipate once logic began to creep back in.

Why was he so angry just now?

"Er... Hm." He spoke clearer. "I came to... check on you."

"How nice." You say sardonically.

"Okay, okay, I deserve the third-degree..." Marc relented, sighing.

Your brows raised at that, finally taking in his demeanor, his face.

He looked... tired. Moreso than you usually saw him, he lacked his usual cold, stiff-shouldered soldier look.

He looked... normal. Worried.

"But," Marc continued. "Parker came and told me what happened. Fury..." He cringed slightly.

"...Chewed you the fuck out, didn't he?" You couldn't help yourself as a grin crept up onto your face.

"And some." He shrugged sheepishly.

"But... I took it. Because you're only here because of me." He said to you.

You patiently waited, taken aback by his sudden apology. Not once has he apologized to you since you started working with him. Not once.

What happened to him in the few weeks you broke off your partnership?

"Because I was stupid, and... Fury was right. I treated you like a soldier that should fall in order, not realizing or taking into account your feelings on the matter or frankly, anything else about you."

"Marc..."

"...I finally read your file."

Your eyebrows shoot so far up your face you're certain they're now nailed to the ceiling.

Wait. What?

"Marc... you never read my file?" You asked.

"Well, some of it. Just the parts I thought I needed to know. Your powers, experience with SHIELD..." He shrugged.

"But you've never read anything else in it?"

"No..."

You were completely knocked off center. All this time you assumed he knew about your past but still willingly chose to be a dick to you.

But if he didn't know until recently...

"Marc, if you'd just told me--" You felt unreasonable frustration suddenly bubble up within you.

"God, you're so stupid! If you just got your head out of your ass and asked--"

"I know, I know." He said to you, waving his hands in a calming gesture. "But... I didn't. I made a blind assumption which was stupid, I just assumed you were like every hot-headed kid who has delusions of grandeur about being a hero."

He threw his hands up.

"And yes! I was being an asshole, I'm sorry, I just... after I read your file--"

"I read yours too."

He pauses, his arms falling to his sides.

"I know." He says quietly, almost under his breath.

You drop your head back onto your pillow and sigh, the neck brace you were still forced to wear uncomfortable as you tried to recline.

"Marc."

"...Yeah?"

"If you promise to stop being a dick and listen to me..." You start.

"I'll stick around. But the moment you start being a dick to me again--"

He cuts you off. "Deal."

You look at him again, raising your eyebrow skeptically.

"...Deal. I'm still going to be in here a few days." You sigh boredly.

You give him a sly look.

"Unless you feel like--"

"I'm not springing you from the medical ward." He says, scowling at you as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Ugh. Dick."

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see him make the tiniest hint of a smirk.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Pt. 4: Link

[averysmolbear]

Keep Marching On

CW: this one has some angst to it. there's some mentions of violent nightmares, death, ptsd, and some violence towards some inanimate objects. Bucky's little sister is mentioned as well as a few made up family members for Bucky. (If I'm missing anything else, I'm so sorry and I will add to this if I remember anything else that could be triggering in this!)

A/N: this is set probably just before the Falcon & the Winter Soldier series, give or take. If there's any spelling mistakes or anything of the sort, that's all on me and I'll try to give this a once over down the line to maybe edit it and fix stuff like that.

Waking up, gasping, with his body covered in a cold sweat seemed to be the new normal for James Buchanan Barnes. Maybe the brainwashing of HYDRA had been wiped out - although that theory had yet to be fully tested, in his opinion - but the nightmares would never leave him. It was his penance for the deeds he had done as an assassin and it was a price that he seemed to have to pay nightly.

His best friend, Steve Rogers, loved to remind Bucky that he hadn’t been himself at the time but that didn’t seem to matter to the former assassin. It didn’t change the guilt that clung to Bucky like a second skin. The nightmares came no matter how much Steve tried to tell his friend that he wasn’t the villain. Some of those nightmares were worse than others but they had become oddly comforting in their own way. They were, after all, the one consistent thing he felt he had anymore.

Bolting up in bed, Bucky gasped as he tried to catch his breath. His head was swimming with so many visions but they seemed to start to fade a bit as he opened his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest as his hands - one made of flesh and one made of vibranium - clutched tightly to the threadbear blanket that his legs had become tangled in.

Outside of his apartment, thunder rolled, although Bucky had missed the lightning flash that had come before. His room was dark save for the faint pink light of the neon sign on the roof of the building next door to the one where he was staying. The sound of rain on the window muted the sounds of the city outside but if he strained his ears, he could still hear cars on the streets below as people went about their night.

New York City - the city that never sleeps, Bucky thought as his breathing evened out. How appropriate.

This was home or it had been once, a lifetime ago. Now it all felt a bit foreign to him. Nothing really looked like it had when he had been growing up and yet there were things about the city that seemed like they had never changed. The feeling of disorientation still stuck with Bucky more than he would have liked. It didn’t help that these days he didn’t see Steve, the only person in this world who could understand some of what he was going through. It left Bucky alone in the world while he tried desperately to get his head right.

Bucky had been grateful for his time in Wakanda, of course. They had worked hard there to untangle the mess left in his brain and it appeared to work for the most part. He had even found peace there for a time, content to live a life away from all of the things he had known. He had been an outsider but it had been something of a fresh start for Bucky. 

But all good things tended to come to an end.

War found him again and ever the soldier, he had willingly fought when Steve had come for him in Wakanda. The price, though, had been high. Bucky and others had disappeared for five years, lost in ‘the snap’ or whatever people had chosen to call it. Coming back had been easy enough for Bucky. It wasn’t that different from being woken up from cryo sleep again after all. Then Steve had made a bone-headed decision - something Bucky had fully expected, of course - and now he was lucky if he caught up with the old man once a month.

The return hadn’t been anything Bucky hadn’t experienced before though. He was used to losing chunks of time, used to the world moving forward while he was stuck behind. None of this was unusual for him, which just made the nightmares worse. It had been a reminder, something that woke up parts of Bucky’s brain that he had hoped to compartmentalize. The memories weren’t horrible all of the time but it didn’t make the nightmares every night any better.

A flash of lightning bathed the room in a bright light as Bucky let go of the blanket he had been holding in a death grip. Slowly he was coming back to reality, shaking as much of the pain that tonight’s dream had dredged up in his scrambled brain. His heartbeat had slowed, his breaths had evened out. He kicked his legs free from the mess of the blanket and sheet he had become tangled up in before shifting to sit on the edge of the bed.

It creaked with every move but Bucky hardly noticed the sound anymore. One glance at the digital clock to his right let him know that it was 3:05 AM. He didn’t bother with the lights as he moved toward the chair in the living room area of his studio apartment. It was a small space and in four long strides he had crossed the room. A heather gray t-shirt had been haphazardly tossed over the back of the chair and he grabbed it now.

Bucky was pulling it on as he shuffled toward the bathroom. His bare feet made nearly no noise as he walked. He moved through the apartment with a level of stealth that he had previously reserved for his missions. Now it was merely a holdover from that time, a hard habit for the former assassin to break.

The bathroom door was already open wide and Bucky reached in to flip on the light, blinking a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the light. In the silence, he used the bathroom and moved to the sink to wash his hands. His hair, recently shorn short again, stuck up in several different directions. He eyed the reflection that stared back at him and he realized that he barely recognized the face he saw.

With a sigh, he splashed some of the warm water on his face. Sleep wasn’t likely to come to him so he knew that he might as well try washing away some of the sweat and the sleep. With another scoop of the water, Bucky was wetting down his hair, letting the water drip down the back of his neck. He quickly raked his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it a bit, although it didn’t do much good.

He sighed again, still staring at his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes, evidence of his lack of sleep lately. The man who looked back at him from the mirror looked tired in every sense of the word; he looked broken and like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Flashes of memories soon filled his mind and he looked down, gripping the sink tightly. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the memory of another victim.

I’ll never be free.

As he heard the porcelain sink creak under his grip, Bucky quickly let it go. He didn’t want to have to fix it again. After the third time he had gone to the hardware store for a replacement sink, he vowed to not break another. The only problem was that this one - the fifth replacement - was clearly cracking. At least fixing it would give him something to do.

Bucky had already painted his small studio apartment twice. He had replaced the kitchen cabinets and then he had repainted them as well. He had made a point to buy furniture that he would have to put together himself (if only because he didn’t have the space to build any furniture himself) and he even helped his neighbors with a leaky kitchen sink and later with replacing their toilet.

As long as he kept busy, he kept the demons at bay so Bucky found ways to keep himself busy as often as possible.

He often felt like whatever had been done to unscramble his brain, had opened the floodgates instead. While he was grateful that he had been deprogrammed, it didn’t change the fact that he was remembering things that he didn’t always want to remember. Some days the flow of memories was easier to deal with than on other days though. He didn’t mind so much when it was childhood memories but that was rarely the case, especially when he slept.

Bucky couldn’t busy his mind with trivial things when he slept and his subconscious used that against him time and time again. Sometimes the nightmares were clear memories, reminding him of the monster that he had been. He might see a mission from start to finish, realizing by the morning that he had viewed it all with such a detached coldness. While that had been necessary for his survival, it wasn’t who Bucky wanted to be anymore.  

It was when his mind let the memories bleed together that Bucky had the hardest time. There were times when his childhood friends made appearances in his nightmares, his brain morphing what should be a happier time into some kind of personal hell for him to deal with come morning.

Tonight it had been that kind of a dream, half rooted in his life before he was made into a killing machine for HYDRA. It didn’t help that he was half-sure he recognized the person he had been sent to kill in his nightmare. There had been a moment when he had been so sure that he knew the person who he was choking the life out of but he just squeezed tighter, waking up a moment before the life faded from the person’s eyes.

Now that he was awake, Bucky couldn’t say what the victim had looked like nor did he seem sure why he recognized them. It could have been anyone from his life before whose face had bled into the hellscape that was his time with HYDRA. The more he tried to make sense of it, the less any of it made any sense at all.

For some reason this nightmare had done more to rattle him than any he had had in awhile. Most faded from his thoughts by the time his feet hit the floor. This one was lingering in its own way. If he tried hard enough, Bucky thought he might even be able to remember the face of his nightmare victim.

Something told him that it wasn’t a road that he would want to travel down though.

He shuffled to the kitchen, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to be an option, and he started a pot of coffee. He yawned as he added the water to the machine. Physically Bucky was awake or as awake as a person could be after only a few hours of sleep. Mentally he was exhausted.

That was a feeling he was growing accustomed to since it seemed to be one of the few things that he felt with any consistency these days.

He began to tidy up - if only to keep his hands and his mind busy - as the aroma of freshly brewing coffee filled his tiny apartment. He picked a notebook given to him by Steve and stared at it a moment. The pages inside were blank, waiting for Bucky to fill them. Steve told him to start jotting down his dreams and his memories but Bucky still didn’t know what good that would do. There were some things that he just didn’t think were worth holding on to where those things were concerned after all.

Bucky set it aside, shaking his head at himself. It couldn’t hurt. Stop being so stubborn.

He knew that every excuse he had to not do this could easily be put aside. Bucky knew the notebook and the words inside of it would be just for him. He had done it before when he was first trying to come to grips with his new reality. He kept those notebooks in a box in the closet, only bringing them out on very rare occasions. He debated pulling them out but Bucky didn’t know if he wanted to relive any of that right now. Tonight had been so odd that he wasn’t sure a trip down memory lane would be a good idea. Still even as he moved back to the kitchen, his mind wandered to the notebooks. 

He filled a mug and sat at the table, glancing down to see the empty notebook sitting there like it was waiting for him. Bucky would have laughed if he had been in a better mind set. He took a tentative sip from the plain white mug. He burned the tip of his tongue on the hot liquid but hardly seemed to notice. 

Bucky reached for a pen and opened the notebook to the first page. The blank, clean sheet of paper felt somehow intimidating to the former soldier. He took a deep breath, pen in hand, and decided to go for it. It couldn’t hurt to get what was floating around in his head down onto the pages of the notebook after all.

As soon as he started writing, he was surprised by how easily the words came to him. The face that tonight’s dream had been so oddly vivid which might have helped. He was surprised when he looked back at everything he had been able to write down. It had been jotted down so hastily that he didn’t remember writing most of it but as he reread it now, it felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.

“Rebecca,” he softly said.

The name fell out of his mouth before he realized he had spoken it aloud. He hadn’t thought of any of his siblings in so long but he remembered with complete certainty that Rebecca had been his favorite. Just two years younger than him, she had idolized Bucky and she had been so broken-hearted when he told her that he was joining the Army. She had taken it harder than their mother, crying the day he had to deploy. It had broken his heart to see her that way and Bucky’s eyes teared up even thinking of it now.

It had been her face that he had been looking at in his nightmare. It had been Rebecca’s slender throat that his hand had been wrapped around. It had been her life that he had ended with such coldness. He hadn’t thought twice about the pleading look his sister had given him as he tightened his grip more and more until she took her last breath.

His chest felt tight and his breathing became sharper. It hadn’t been true but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Bucky closed his eyes as he pushed the nightmare from his vision. He tried to pluck out the gentler memories of his sister, working his way back from the last moment he recalled seeing her. He flitted from memory to memory, his pulse slowing as he did so.

The last image Bucky focused on was of Rebecca at sixteen. He had been bouncing around in the mess that was his brain before but this memory came to him clearly. It was a true and happy memory that he didn’t mind lingering on as he tried to settle his racing thoughts. Rebecca had been all done up for her first date. Bucky had done his damnedest to intimidate the boy taking her out and he could recall her voice in perfect clarity telling him to lay off the guy, something that had made both Steeve and Bucky laugh at the time.

With Steve as such a fixture in the Barnes household, it was a wonder to Bucky that Rebecca and Steve had never gone on a single date. Of course he guessed that the two had only seen each other as siblings. Still Bucky knew that the two of them together would have made sense in another lifetime. It wasn’t like he could ask either of them now. He wasn’t even sure where to find his sister and that was only if she was still alive.

Bucky closed the notebook, sliding it away. He worried that the words on the page might trigger another panic attack if he kept staring at them. He reached for his coffee, his hand steadier than Bucky had thought it might be given the way he felt. The mug was still warm to the touch and the coffee inside of it was of a drinkable temperature now. He took a long drink as he tried to decide what to do with his day, settling on fixing the bathroom sink and maybe trying to find out what happened to his sister.

*** *** *** ***

Bucky had been surprised how asking the right people could get him quick answers. Less than 36 hours after inquiring about his family, Sam Wilson had shown up at Bucky’s apartment with several manilla folders filled with miscellaneous pieces of paperwork. Sam had offered to help but Bucky had made it clear that this was something he had to do himself. To his surprise, Sam had only nodded and told Bucky to call him if he needed anything.

Once he was alone he went through each paper meticulously, piecing together what had happened to his family after he had ‘died’. This had been a rabbit hole that he hadn’t wanted to go down but after the nightmare, Bucky knew that he had to know. It had been no surprise to him that most of his family had died in the years since he had left Brooklyn. Not that it made any of it hurt any less. He had been pleased to see that Rebecca had become a nurse and that she had married someone who had been in the Army.

“Rebecca Sheppard,” Bucky said, almost as if to test out the name his little sister had taken. Somehow it felt right when he said it aloud. He was proud to see that Rebecca had done something positive with her life after he was gone although he wished he could have told her that himself.

She and her husband had had three children. Two sons and a daughter. The daughter still lived in Brooklyn and had married, having two kids of her own, James and Rebecca. Rebecca’s husband had died at the age of 55 in a car accident. She had died at the age of 82 and she was buried in Cypress Hill Cemetery.

He knew that the least that he could do was go to visit her grave. He had been actively avoiding visiting the gravesites of the family that had long since died, leaving Bucky alone in the world. Connections were rare for him although some of that came from not wanting to get anyone mixed up in the mess that was his everything. His life was certainly not something that could easily be explained and his mind was still a bit of a mess on its own. Knowing where Rebecca was buried seemed to push Bucky into acting however. He hadn’t felt the need to visit the graves of his parents nearly as much as he did when thinking of the kid sister that he had left behind.

Thumbing through everything again, Bucky let out a soft sigh. He pulled out the photographs that he had been avoiding looking through. His heart ached as he saw the photos of his little sister and of the family that she had ultimately built in his absence. He could see how happy she was in the snapshots, moments in time when Rebecca had been able to build a future for herself.

She had only gotten prettier as she had gotten older and Bucky felt a stinging in his eyes as he looked at the photo of her holding one of her babies. He had missed so much more than he had even imagined. He had believed for a time that not knowing about any of this would somehow make starting over easier but Bucky knew that seeing what he had missed out on hurt but it also helped. At least he knew that everyone he had left behind - the most important people in his life - had been able to pick up the pieces after he had ‘died’. It didn’t dull the ache he felt when he realized he could have been there to watch Rebecca blossom and to see her children but knowing that she had been able to do those things made him feel at least a bit better.

There was one picture that Bucky lingered on. He looked over it, brows furrowed as he tried to place what it was he felt in that moment. It was Rebecca’s granddaughter who had also been named Rebecca by her parents as an apparent homage to his little sister. She looked so much like his sister although her eyes were a different color -- more green than blue -- but he felt a pain in his chest as he looked at the photo. He set it aside, reaching for his phone. He took a deep breath, letting out a soft sigh. Bucky knew if he didn’t do this, then he might not ever get the courage up to do it. He found the phone number among all of the papers he had been sorting through earlier. His brows were furrowed again as he dialed the number. He lifted the phone to his ear, barely able to hear the ringing over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He heard the click of someone picking up on the other end and a confused female voice saying hello. Bucky froze for the moment; even the sound of her voice was so much like his sister’s. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat, rasping out a hello. It took a moment for the person on the other end to respond, asking who it was and what they wanted. Bucky realized that the person sounded panicked and he took a deep breath before he drove into explaining everything. He spoke in a rushed tone, trying to get everything out before the person could hang up.

To Bucky’s surprise, Rebecca believed him. She even agreed to meet up with him later in the week. She would be in the area, running some errands, and promised that she could make a little time to meet him for coffee. Relieved, Bucky gave Rebecca a place, letting her set the time that they would meet. He hung up and he felt like a weight was lifted off of him.

This wasn’t the same thing as having his family back but it was a piece of that. It was a connection to his past that he hadn't had before and it was something that Bucky knew that he sorely needed.

[mthofferings]

Nixie

See Nixie’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Discord: nixiedeangel Tumblr: nixies-creations Tumblr: nixie-deangel

Preferred organizations: - Anything from the list of approved organizations

Will create works that contain: Happy endings, smut, kink, fluff, drabbles, Avengers team bonding, AUs, CW and Endgame fix-its, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, whump, hurt/comfort; If you’re curious, send me a message and I’ll be happy to answer!

Will not create works that contain: Civil War; Hydra!Cap; Hydra characters as main characters; Post Endgame non fix-it fics; terminal illness; scat/piss/vore/vomit/blood play; incest; major character death; rape; abuse; gender-swap; unhappy endings. Pairings: Sharon/Steve, Sharon/Steve/Bucky, Sharon/Tony, Darcy/Steve, Darcy/Steve/Bucky, Darcy/Tony, Maria Hill/Steve, Maria/Steve/Bucky, Maria/Tony

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1054

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - 1872, 3490, AA, EMH, MCU

Work Description: I’m offering a fic between 10k and 40k! If the bid exceeds $60, I will add an additional 1K to the fic for every or every $5 it goes up. Will not write beyond 100K. I am willing to write in canon verse, canon divergence, AUs, explicit content; I am also happy to include background pairings not listed here. I am also happy to split the word count into smaller stories as well, if the winning bidder would prefer that, instead of a singular longer story. You are welcome to contact me with questions and AU ideas to see if I am able to write them! Please know that you will have heavy input on the fic I write for you! I can begin working on this as soon as January 2024.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Digital Work --

Auction ID: 2033

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - 3490, MCU Darcy Lewis/Any - MCU Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson - MCU Bruce Banner/Thor - MCU Peter Parker/Wade Wilson - TASM, X-Men movieverse Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier - X-Men movieverse Sharon Carter/Any - MCU Logan/Ororo Munroe - X-Men movieverse Maria Hill/Any - MCU Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov - MCU

Work Description: I am offering aesthetic/moodboards, 3 boards, with at least 7 images. I will include at least a 1500 word fic to accompany each board. Because of other commitments, I will be busy and not able to begin working until January 2024. I will of course be available to discuss ideas and start plotting out aesthetic/moodboard ideas until I can begin working on them. I will provide updates to my auction winner as needed. I am open to doing any Sharon Carter, Maria Hill or Darcy Lewis ship other than those in my DNWs. Apart from the ships I selected, I am open to doing others, as I have a wide variety of ships I love throughout the many sub-marvel fandoms! I also enjoy writing rare pairs and femslash, so if you are curious if I’m open to doing those for you, please contact me and we can discuss.

Ratings: Gen, Teen

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

[late-to-the-party-81]

The awfully good, terribly bad day Pt2

AN: Was I mean to you yesterday, for leaving it on a cliff-hanger? Here you go hoes - day 13 and the concluding part of our sex-pollen induced orgy. Apologies - it's a short one.

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beta’d by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Grouping: Steve x Bucky x Thor x Reader

CW: Sex Pollen, Orgy, Bukkake, Size kink, smidge electro-play, explicit sexual content, dub-con (cos of sex pollen), fluff at the end.

Word count: 0.9k

With the HYDRA chemical coursing through all your veins, you wondered what would happen next…

What happened next was that Bucky fucked you. Hard. On your hands and knees. 

With Thor’s cock in your mouth. Then, when Bucky was done with you (and having his cock sucked by Steve), Thor took his place, sitting back on his heels, and guiding you up and down his cock like a sextoy, your back to his front so you could watch Steve and Bucky.

The two super-soldiers were big men (all over!) but Thor was something else entirely. You felt tiny, insignificant. Only there to serve at his pleasure.

You gripped his arms and squeaked as he bounced you up and down his thick shaft. 

“So tight around me, little one. Even after taking our comrades. I’m surprised we have not broken you, as small as you are.”

The reminder of how fragile you were compared to the three of them had you moaning, eyelids fluttering as your head rolled back onto Thor’s shoulder. Your tits bounced, and through your hooded eyes you could see Bucky watching.

Thor moved one of his hands to your folds, spreading them further with his fingers to bare your stretched sex, then started to tap his finger on your engorged clit. 

“Are you almost there? I need to feel you, little one. Cum for me.”

His next tap was electrifying, literally, as the god of thunder sent a small charge from his body into yours, setting off your orgasm. You couldn’t think as it rippled through you, a slave to the sensations. You were aware of Thor roaring in your ear as he filled you, his cum overflowing your pussy and running down your thighs.

The burning in your blood was finally subsiding after more orgasms than you could count, and your body was now clamouring for rest. Thor lifted you off him, and laid you down on his cloak, before leaning over you, kissing you. You accepted the caress, letting out a small whimper as he nipped at your lower lip. 

He was still on his knees and you could see from the corner of your eye that he was stroking his still hard cock. A moment later he lifted his head from yours, but otherwise didn’t move. 

Bucky knelt down on the other side of you, also touching himself, and leaning in for a kiss of his own. As tired as you were, your hand travelled down to your abused and leaking sex, drawing gentle circles over your clit.

After tasting your mouth Bucky pulled away and shuffled down slightly, making way for Steve. Your long-term crush smiled at you, lightly brushing his knuckles over your cheek.

“Hey, sweetheart!”

“Steve!” Your voice and mind were barely working, but you wanted to give him something.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done so well. Just lay there now, okay? You can still make us feel good.”

Biting your lower lip, you nodded, gently touching yourself as the three big men continued to touch themselves. You watched them in turn, finally lucid enough to pay attention to their differences, but still marvelling over each one. Despite the needs placed upon them by the drug, each of them had treated you with care and tenderness.

You pinched at your nipples as you played with your pussy, back arching and hips rolling. The three of them watched you intently as they jerked off.

“So beautiful, doll. Fucking desire personified. God! ‘M gonna cum…”

Bucky’s seed splattered across your abdomen and hips, catching your hand and lower arm. Seeing him lose control like that was intensely erotic, and you came with a ragged moan. 

Thor came next, his previous roar dulled to a growl as he painted your stomach and part of your breasts. You mewled as the aftershocks of your orgasm stuttered through you.

Seeing you so wanton and delirious in your lust was Steve’s undoing. A few grunts and he shot across your breasts, neck and chin, ensuring that your entire torso was now covered in cum.

You reached out a hand towards him, splaying your fingers across his stomach, and smiled, before letting slumber take you.

——

You woke up sometime later, feeling sore, but also comfortable and warm.

Cracking open one eye you took in your surroundings. You were on the quinjet, and from the feel of it, you were in flight. 

You appeared to be wrapped in a soft blanket and cradled in someone’s arms. You tilted your head and looked up into the ocean blue of Steve’s eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, yourself.” Your voice was hoarse, an embarrassing reminder of how vocal you’d been.

“We all seem to be free of the drug now. But, we’ll…erm well… all need checking over when we get back.”

Steve blushed and you felt an answering heat in your own cheeks.

“Umm, when we recovered I brought you back here, washed you up, while Bucky and Thor gathered all our things. I, err, thought that you wouldn’t want to feel too vulnerable when you woke up, so Thor’s keeping Bucky company in the cockpit. And I…umm… hope you don’t mind me holding you like this. I’d have felt bad letting you wake up on your own, on one of the cots.”

You smiled at him, wiggling an arm out of your blanket cocoon to cup his stubble covered cheek.

“Thanks Steve. I appreciate it. And I like being close to you. You’re warm. Now, what did you say earlier about treating me right?”

He leant down and kissed you, and the heat that rose in your veins this time had nothing to do with Hydra.

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98

[lxinesux]

hey! my name is laine.

he/they. nonbinary + queer. a virgo. a messy bitch who lives for drama.

i used to be a chainsmokingnun on ao3, now im lainesuxatwriting!!

over all trigger warnings for nudity, dissociation, dream/traumacore, unreality, internal struggles with self, gore, discussion of physical + mental + sexual trauma, sex work, misuse of sex, self harm, eating disorders, substance abuse, chronic illness, and dead doves. Not all the time, but like, a lot of the times! Please, do not interact with this blog if these things trigger you!

!!🔞minors, do not interact. smut, dark content, problematic content, horror, and other assorted adult delights are to follow. im 24! i act like it🔞!!

currently writing what makes my lizard brain happy.

feel free to poke me with a request in my askbox. but im delicate, so be gentle.

🧚‍♀️master list under the cut 🧚‍♀️

I usually write with TASM!Peter Parker (P3) in mind but you can envision any Peter tbqh.

Monochopsis: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Vampire!Reader x Peter Parker. A short vignette a part of a wider series in a vampire AU. Set in vaguely victorian times, Wanda is an ‘unwilling’ bystander stuck in your memory of the night you consummated your relationship with Dr. Peter Parker.

CW: Slight dubcon elements, de realization, death and blood, mentions of violence. Homophobia, biphobia. Mild emetophobia

Toxic!Peter: Band AU Edition: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader A short lil blurb for a band au that will eventually take fruition. Peter is your toxic ex and former bandmate.

once i sink my teeth (your skins not so tough) : Super Soldier!Green Goblin!Reader attempts to save Peter's life. He tries to show you just how much he needs you.

CW: Love confessions, grinding, dub-con kisses, blood and gore, guns, violence, implied PTSD on both ends, panic attacks.

i’m holding my breath for you: A sequel to ‘once i sink my teeth,’ Reader regrets her time with Peter and attempts to push him away to get her friendship back. Peter does not take it well. Smut ensues.

CW: Blood and gore, Loss of Virginity, Kinda creepy Peter, Fingering, P in V sex, Creampie, Bathroom Sex

fever: This was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out until those Hydra assholes appeared and complicated things.

Now your best friend Wanda has to keep you alive while battling her feelings for you.

CW: sex pollen, fuck or die, implied cheating, unrequited love, dubcon, loss of virginity

death by a thousand cuts: Peter loves his foster sister.

CW: incest, pseudo incest, complicated relationship dynamics, forced cream pie, noncon/dubcon

[lastavengedarchived]

Rules

once again for length, I will throw this under the read more. in general, be nice, this blog is not mutual exclusive, but may be low activity and selective.

hi im izzy, i'm 26, they/them. i only work as a part time theatre technican and so im around sporadiacally. @mastcrmarksman is my main blog.

you are welcome to like this post.

MUTAUALS ONLY + friends & plotted priority

please read my note about "ncu-remixed" at the bottom

GENERAL - non mutual friendly, oc friendly, cross over friend, but prefer to only follow, write with, and be followed by people who are 21+

HUB BLOG -  this blog hosts two sideblogs ( @justcallmered / vigilante oc ) If you are just following for the sideblogs, consider yourself a mutual. You do not have to follow this main blog.

DUPES - Duplicates are welcome to follow this, I may not follow back for other Peppers & Karens but consider us mutuals for sake of sideblogs.

CONNECTIONS - I do participte in having mains, exclusives, ship exclusives, and affilitates and am opening to discusssing these types of connections with mutuals and writing partners.

FORMATTING - I use tumblr dark mode, small text and default tumblr colored text for dialouge, but I can accommendate on request. I use x-kit to cut my posts and prefer for posts to be tagged at least with a blog's url or something, just in case of needing to track or blacklist.

TRIGGERS - I do not have any triggrers, but given certain muses topics of addiction, suicide, depression, abuse and grooming are present, sp tread lightly but all heavy topics and triggers are tagged with "content cw"

NSFW - I rarely post NSFW and normally do not write smut (with some exceptions). So don't expect much from me, especially if we are shipping. There is hinting at and discussion of the muses' sex lives, but detailed smut writing isn't an interest/focus to me.

INBOX + DMS - My ask is always open, anon is turnd on. Non mutuals are welcome to send asks, memes, and start conversations through ask box first. Mutuals are welcome to dm me. There is no time limit on memes.

OC CHILDREN - I don’t mind them with the exception of Pepper, I will only acknowledge them as a multiverse as a variant’s offspring instead of child of MY Pepper; she is not your mom. My Pepper is trans, along with generally she does not want to have children anymore. The only “children” she has is being "step-mom" to Jamie (teen abnomination / you know from sim)

DNI - minors, white washed characters (mcu maximoffs for example), active hydra characters (they are fucking nazis), youtuber, content creator or minecraft muses, real people muses i'm just not comfortable w/ how parasocial that gets. any form of bigotry, all the isms/phobias (rac/ism, sex/ism, homo/phobia, trans/phobia etc etc).

DISCOURSE - the muse does not reflect the views of the mun. Plenty of the media we consume and get attached to will display characters of varying views and behaviors etc etc. To some degree we can and should detach from that, and I do, I am detached from my muses and do not share their views. i do not condone any form of bigotry. as well as if any discourse comes up, assume that I, the mun, have looked into it, taken necessary action, and will react as an adult.

SAFE SPACE - my blog is my safe space first and foremost. it is curated for me. i will block, soft block, remove myself, and do as needed to maintain that. as well as i have the right to decline anything if i simply do not vibe as my blog is my blog, it is a space for me.

FUN STUFF - fluff, angst, slice of lifee, content heavy, dialouge heavy, paragraphs, crossovers, aus, multi-verse, multi-ship, anon asks, ask box starters, mutual random starters, edits, you name the fun

MCU - typically I will do crossover/multiverse shenangians with 616/MCU when it comes to MCU. I just don't vibe with MCU, and I also jut haven't watched it. The only verison that you will see is Karen has an NCU verse. I don't hate the MCU, I just don't gel with it and that may be my autism/special interest being specific 616 comics.

NCU Remixed - basically, I do treat the originally Netflix shows as separate/removed from the MCU, and will use those as origin canons or use the events in them as verses/canons, namely in Karen's case. Everything else from the MCU (the films, the other shows) are rejected, and I'll pull from 616 and comic event. NCU is like an alternate origin for Karen basically, that blends her LA arc from the comics into her NCU origin.

Basically what is accepted into "canon" for this verse - Daredevil s1 thru 3, Jessica Jones s1 thru 3, Punisher s1 thur 2, Iron Fist s1 thru 2, Luke Cage s1 thru 2, and The Defenders.

Anything after or before, I am not familiar with and don't think about (or involve into Karen's canon). Basically films and disney plus shows are amiss, both from a knowledge point ( but that doesn't mean i won't write with mcu folks or do some plotting for events; i just can't emphasize enough this "izzy's neurodivergence way of framing canon")

So where does that leave the rest of the universe?

In general, basically since these are origin stories, it is a more "comic" accurate imagining of the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and X-Men to me; meaning like the OG Avengers being Wasp, Ant Man (Hank), Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, and Captain America. Followed by the next iteration of the Avengers team introducing Cap's Kooky Squad (Cap, Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye and Black Panter, rejoined Wasp and Yellowjacket (Hank) and Black Widow, Herucles etc etc).

Spider-man has entered into college age and is vibing around with the Coffee Bean Gang of that era.

Fantastic Four has been around for a bit.

Leaves a potential for throwing around ideas like that and introducing some comic events remixed.