#hydra glide

[twowheelsonesoul]

In 1949 Harley-Davidson introduced the "Hydra-glide" front end, replacing the spring fork which had been in use since the company's earliest days. This 74 cubic inch FL model is preserved in original paint with many period accessories!

[meringuejellyfish]

i fought a king gleeok the other day it was so cool actually screamed and whatever

[barbieaemond]

The order of things

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: mild angst, masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), grinding

Word count: 3k

Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs @alphard-hydraes-blog

MASTERLIST

There is a raven that flies towards the rookery as soon as the sun is high enough to bathe the Keep in orange. It always comes at the same split minute, Aemond sees it every day, because it is the same split minute in which his training ends. Sometimes he even manages to get the better of the bird, then looks up as he sheathes his sword and awaits him. As soon as it crosses the sky he leaves the courtyard.

His day is like a prayer, devoutly tenacious and unchanging. A bath, breakfast, a flight on dragonback, a book. A visit to Helaena and the twins if the reading bores him.

Someone might say that even his walk is always the same. Rigour and order, to be everything Aegon is not.

This time, he disarms Ser Criston well in advance, so much that the raven has yet to show itself, and when it does, Aemond will be blind to his passing.

"Mother," he says curtly as the Queen passes by. She goes to pray as she does every morning, always at the same time. She too is a creature devoted to rigour, and duty; she has seized her days and clutched them in her fist to prevent them from floating through her.

She pauses to greet him, her voice as mellifluous as ever and her eyes just as warm, and then suddenly, he turns to look at her as if he is looking at a stranger, as if she is speaking a language he does not know. "I wanted to tell you that I'm going to see some girls today, to choose your new maid."

"What's wrong with my maid?"

"Well, I figured she might ask for a leave as the wedding approaches."

He blinks, he stalls, he bogs, unnaturally, the sand stops in the hourglass. The raven glides over the towers, unnoticed.

"Yes, of course." he says, sheathing his sword, and the sand flows again, grain by grain; the funnel shrunk.

Everything in his life is part of that rigour, even people, even her.

She has been in his service long enough to know without asking when the scar pulls to the point of requiring medication. She has been in his service long enough to know that a slight frown in his eyebrows is enough to make her close the curtains and prevent the light from worsening the pain in his head, to know that he likes his venison rather raw, that he hates that doublet because the sleeves are puffed and he feels like a court jester. And she tacitly made it disappear.

She does everything without uttering a word. She doesn't need to ask, she moves when he moves, she has adapted to him like a second skin, and she doesn't seem harmed by the edges.

Yet he is harmed by something, as she pulls off his boots in front of the fireplace. He sees a flat sea where he would like to see a storm. He sees grains flowing and wishes to crash the glass.

"Do you need anything else my Prince?" she has a seraphic expression on her face, and he sees deception. She speaks in a firm, devoted voice, and he hears betrayal.

He stares at her with the eye that looks like a needle, feels like it, then shifts his gaze to the fire and says "I will be in need of your assistance tomorrow, for the whole day."

"The whole day?"

"Yes. Why? Do you have something better to do than the duties you are paid for?"

She is no novice to his bitter tongue; somehow, stupidly, naively and recklessly, she is able to imbue it with treacle when it enters her head. It doesn't matter anyway, her foolishness will end as soon as she takes her vows.

"No. Of course not. I'll be at your service, my Prince."

"Hmm, until?"

"Until?"

"You should be the one to tell me. When is the wedding due?"

Her eyes widen like two large moons and she seems to crumple in on herself, on the floor she is kneeling on, under the Prince's unwavering, iron eye. She feels her throat tighten and yet his hands are steady along the armrests. She feels her lungs crackle against her ribcage. "I—"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Why didn't she?

"My prince, I thought your Grace should not be bothered with such trivial matters."

"I decide what to be bothered about." He says in an imperative tone. "When would you have bothered to inform me? Is this how you show loyalty to your prince? Keeping things from me?"

She glues her eyes to the floor, she cannot hold the Prince's gaze, not when he is like this, even though he has never been like this. He looks angry, he looks outraged? As if he has been wronged. That look makes her blood run cold, and then it melts in red down her cheeks and neck. It would be too easy to blame the chimney behind her back, easy but necessary, to keep things in order. Prince and servant, nothing more. What else is there?

There are heavy sighs falling in the dark, stranded between the sheets as his bones boil and tense at the climax, desire spilled, wasted. But that's fine. To not be all that Aegon is. This too has become rigour, part of the order of things.

It is the order of things to watch her kneel at his feet and wish to spill his desire into her mouth. As is seeing her nails always neat and tidy scratching the floor as her back arches against him, as is seeing the blood reddening her cheeks and neck, and wanting to lick it as far as it goes. 

Someone else will do it. An ordinary man of no consequence in the order of things, the real one.

"You may go." he says coldly, hoping the frost of his tongue will cool the feverish blood under his skin.

She rises from the floor with a bowed, desolate head. "I bid you good night, my Prince."

The next morning he asks her to change the sheets, and he turns his back on her, ashamed, as if she knows she is in those sheets.

He takes a bath while she does her chores, finishing exactly when he does, because she moves when he moves. She helps him put on a dark green robe, unperturbed by his nudity, because that is her duty and it no longer makes her blush.

There's never been clumsiness in her hands, but there is today. Aemond feels her hands heavy as boulders when she prepares the ointment for his eye, when she leans over him to remove his eyepatch. She doesn't speak to him as she always does, oozing that glimmer of amusement when she brings up the servants' petty feuds and wars.

"You're rather quiet today." He asserts later, as she buttons his doublet "Has the armistice been reached in the kitchens?"

She opens in a brief smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I don't know, Your Grace. I find myself spending a lot more time outside the Keep these days."

"Is that so?” He retorts, narrowing his eye “Hmm, is that why my books are still on the desk?"

She finishes her buttoning and ties her hands on her modest skirt. "I am sorry, Your Grace. I will see to it that they are put in order at once."

"I have no use for your apology. Why didn't you do it when I told you to?"

"Your mother gave me a leave for a few hours yesterday."

"And why did you ask my mother and not me? You are in my service, not hers."

She keeps looking down like a suspect on trial and swallows. "I went to Flea Bottom to buy some fabric for my wedding dress. I was ashamed to ask you for a leave for something so frivolous. As a woman, I thought your mother would understand."

"You will do no such thing in the future. Hide things from me and leave the Keep without my permission, or I'll have you punished. Am I being clear?"

"Your Grace, I…” she pauses, she looks down, she swallows, but it’s now or never. “You should know that I will no longer be here after the wedding. I am going to formally resign my position. Your Mother has already-"

His eye goes wide, and wild, and he breathes loudly until he is snarling. "Are you deaf or dense? Did you not hear me? You will not leave my service."

The moons in her eyes are full now. She looks at him, begging him to let her go, because that is the natural course of things. She will marry a common man, give him a couple of children and live a quiet life in the country, where her groom has a smallholding of land, their only source of wealth if they do not want a life of misery in Flea Bottom. And she is fine with that. She has accepted it. She is like any other common girl, she cannot dream, her blood is only red, there's no castle nor crown waiting for her.

She has accepted her fate with the calmness of a stream that lets itself be carried along by its current. She is happy like this, because as far as she could, in that silly way in which all ordinary girls dream, she dreamed, even though her dream is made of flesh and blood.

She had shivered when he had leaned over her when he taught her to read. She had breathed in deeply to know what he smelled like. She had felt ice in her stomach under his gaze when she read a few pages to him. And that is more than dreaming.

She cannot remain in his service, because she is an ordinary girl and more than dream, she cannot want.

"Your Grace..." she begs, going down to the floor "I beg you. Let me go my way. I believe I have always served you to the best of my ability and if I’ve ever failed you in something, name it. I will do anything to make it right."

Aemond bogs again, but in something far more paralysing and at the same time overwhelming than all his rigour. Perhaps it is the sight of her on her knees again, her head bowed and devoted, and the fact that he wants to touch that devotion, wants to taste it and swallow it.

Slowly, he lifts her chin with two fingers, eye blind to everything else; his thumb moves over her lower lip as if to know its edges, as if he has wanted to do this all his life.

"Anything?" he asks in the voice of another, the one stranded in the sheets.

She nods slowly, and the movement rubs his thumb against her teeth for a moment, forcing him to swallow, to give himself control, not to push his finger in. He is not Aegon, He is not Aegon, he is not Aegon.

"Would you be willing to please me?" he asks, and his question reaches some remote place in her, that place where a girl can dream and want freely. In that place, if he had asked once, twice, a hundred times, she would have bent to his will, not to the duty of the servant who must please her lord. Sure, that too. But first of all to her will. It is a question that need not be asked, for there is but one answer.

"Yes..."

Blood flows into her cheeks, breathing out fire from her lips. "How...? How do you want me to please you, my Prince?"

"With this..." he replies, pushing his thumb over her lip.

Her hands move fluidly over the belt and buttons of his breechers as if she had done this countless times before. She helps him dress, she knows his body even though she has never touched him. She has never touched a man in her life, not like this. Aemond reads the embarrassment on her cheeks and he basks in it with a glimmer of pride, because he will be the first.

Gently, he places a hand behind her head, tilting it a little, and looks at her with his heavy, clouded eye, enthralled. "Open your mouth..."

He knows she's never done this before, but the hot alcove of her mouth is enough to make him open his mouth and let out air in a broken cadence. She raises her eyes as if to ask if she is doing something wrong, and the sight, real and not the outcome of some delusion hidden in the dark, smothers his breath. He begins to thrust into her mouth slowly, hardening quickly as she continues to look at him and welcome him into her mouth with the devotion with which one kneels to the Seven.

"Gevie..." he pants hoarsely, brushing his fingers through her hair "You look more beautiful than I thought like this..."

His hand in her hair never tightens, though his hips move faster and the wet sound is the only one that keeps his panting company.

"Your cheeks..." he instructs her "Hollow your cheeks..."

And just as when he was teaching her to read, she listens , sucking agonisingly slowly. “Fuck—” he curses, threading his long fingers through her hair and pulling at the roots; he thrusts faster so that she has to grip his waist with her hands but when he senses she can’t breathe, he lets of her head and slips out of her scorching lips, hissing at feeling the cold air of the room.

She’s panting hard, with her mouth open and slick with him. But she has little time to catch a puff of air. He thrashes her on the carpet, with a rough kiss full of teeth and growls, and his hands move like talons, pulling her modest skirts up to her waist.

“No—My Prince—” she muffles on his mouth, pleading but desperate all together “We can’t—”

“I won’t ruin you, I promise.” he says rummaging through her garments “Just let me feel you this once—”

He finds her core with his large hand, hot and slick, and she whimpers loudly in his open mouth. “Do you get this wet for your groom, hmm? Or just for your Prince?” 

She unconsciously bucks her hips against his hand and he smiles, delightfully, against her neck, licking a stripe down her throat. “I’m in need of an answer, my sweet girl…” he says raising his head, the leather piece is about to fall behind his disheveled hair. “Have you touched yourself thinking of me?”

Shame washes over her as well as pride does him. “You did, didn’t you?”

His retrieves his hand and licks her off his fingers as if he was waiting for nothing else, staring at her with his eye pitch black.

“Do it.”

“M-my Prince?”

“Touch yourself. Now.”

She looks away, reddening even more, but he grasps her chin and forces her to look at him. “Do you want that permission to leave my service?”

It takes her a minute to swallow her shame, and then her hands is slipping between them. He pulls himself up on one arm to give her space to spread her legs some more, to watch closely as she starts to move her little hand on her bundle of nerves. “Look at me.” He commands, and she flutters her eyes with a bit of prudery before obliging.

Her breathing becomes heavy, just as his, slowly touching himself to mimic her, as he has done countless of times before but this is different. This is like the first time. He can watch her chasing her pleasure because of him, with him. He can watch the sweat beading her neck, her lip trembling. He can hear the sweet lewd sounds she makes for him.

She grows more desperate by the moment, swaying her hips on the carpet, grabbing his shoulder and neck until he falls on her. He groans upon feeling her cunt against his cock and by now they’re both too close to need hands anymore. He starts to grind against her, his hard flesh slicking ever so easily on her wetness, swallowing her whimpers and moans as he pants and rasps on her lips “Go on, sweet one. Come for me, hm?”

She does so, gripping his shoulders until digging her nails on the fabric, moaning with her mouth slack open.

He keeps grinding against her, frantic, panting, the eyepatch is somewhere on the ground and she watches him in the stupor of pleasure, like she’s experiencing a vivid dream, but the weight of the prince on her is real, his cock rubbing against her core making it twitch for more, his coarse voice as he rasps “Gods—‘M so close…” and then the jolt of warm seed on her belly.

He falls on her breathing hard, making her wince, but she can't find the strength to slip away, to pull down her skirt or move the long silvery lock that has gone into her mouth. She must leave everything as it is, and then leave it to be the ordinary girl without dreams.

For two days, her presence around the Keep is rather scarce, barely traceable in the Prince’s chambers. But his breakfast is always ready on his desk, his clothes always clean and well folded on the chair.

Aemond does not send for her nor does he seem to care where she is. He returns to his rigour, to his books, to his training as soon as dawn breaks.

One of the Kingsguard shows up in the courtyard and stands there to watch, waiting for the Prince to finish his duel.

"My Prince, I've done some research after our last conversation."

"Well?"

"Just as you said, your Grace. A modest cottage and a piece of land near Duskendale."

"Good." He says, sheathing his sword and glancing up upon hearing a distant caw. "I want you to send two city guards there, and burn it all down."

The guard blinks, widening his eyes. "My Prince?"

"You heard me."

The guard leaves and Aemond hears cawing again, closer this time. He glances up and the raven greets him, flapping his wings in the newborn sun.

Everything is in order.

[darkdemeter]

OK, BUT IMAGINE... "STUCK IN THIS FORM" Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

Nobody has ever seen you in your human form. It's unsure as to why exactly, but you never seem to ever reveal your human side, instead wandering around the compound as this 8ft hairy creature stalking around on two, large hind paws with a haunting weight that thunders through the halls. Your thick, long tail sweeps along behind you and though you have this beastly appearance, you tend to act... human. But there is a lacking to it, like an intelligent lifeform that knows how to mimic human behaviour. There's something dark in the way you drink from a bottle of water, there is an unsettling air around you when you eat the leftover meatloaf.

The smell of wet dog still clings to you even though you used half of your soap bottle in the shower, as if you try to peel away that layer from you and you fail to do so. You barely leave the compound grounds because of your condition, unable to involve yourself with the general public. You're stuck.

Your fellow Avengers have taken some time to get used to you, often wary of you and Wanda knows she shouldn't. She just knows that she shouldn't but she can't help the way her eyes drift down your body, taking in every detail she can.

At first she too was one of the wary ones who tried to avoid getting in your way. She had Vision after all and she was happily in a relationship with him. But something about you was pulling, she found herself drawn to you by this invisible tether. Nobody else but her was able to see the way your fur becomes tousled with this majestic flow in the wind.

Vision regularly reminds her that you're just an animal with no sense of your humanity. At least not enough to return to your human form. Your mind had been scrambled by Hydra to the point of no return to that aspect of your life; to find that agency that allowed you to blend in with everyone else.

But what Wanda saw was a fellow victim of Hydra. One that was secretly starved for love and affection. Nobody wanted to go near you, nobody really interacted with you outside of missions.

Maybe she pried... once or twice. In your mind, she came to know how badly you were tortured. The way you curl up into a ball and whimper, high pitched and growl in pain. You relive your time trapped in their labs as an experiment and their personal dog. Another mind tried too far and fried much like Bucky. Like him, you were forced to pay the price with your humanity.

Thus, she began to let herself closer to your presence. Whenever you both occupied the same space, she would let herself drift that little bit closer and though you would snap and snarl at her, secretly warning her to keep her distance for her sake, she only found her way around it all. She wouldn't give up on you.

She'd find the reflective shine of your amber eyes burning with this fire, sternly animalistic but it made her feel... secure. And then that sense of comfort and safety turned wayward, instead becoming something it shouldn't have. She began to feel the inkling wetness pooling in her panties, soaking her wet and leaving her in desperate want for something more. Something raw and untamed - wild.

By this point, you also let yourself get that bit closer to her. Able to finally take in the creamy jade of her eyes at a closer distance and to become fully enveloped with her scent. It was one you found calming, it numbed the pain of your memories and allowed you to finally rest peacefully. Because of this, you eventually would creep with a silent stalk into her room, body sauntering forth until you came to lay down on the floor beside her bed. She'd smile at the deep, rumbling purrs of your slumber, the way your ears would flicker and twitch and the relatively calm posture you came to have instead of your muscles being wound tensely. In the grace of morning, her hand glides with gentle brushes down the column of your spine and you stretch, shaking away the remnants of sleep. The two of you would just stare at the other for a moment, taking in the other in the rising light of the early sun. What she'd see is a hesitance, a fearful reaction that made you turn and leave quickly with a huff snorted through your dark, wet nose; like you didn't want her to see you like this.

You're stuck like this. There is no humanity within you to love.

I'm trying to get into the groove of writing for Wanda again and ended up writing this because I'm trying to stave off writing another possible poetic erotica halloween piece for her + possibly Natasha... *siiiigh* fucking dammit...

[1800jjbarnes]

солдат | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : He was your families enemy and an enmey of the state, but yet you can't help but melt when his ice-cold metal hand touches you in just the right places.

『Word count』 :  1.81k

-> Genre : Smut, Angst.

Paring: Winter Soldier x Avengers!Reader

[Warnings] : dark themes. Metion of hydra and torture. Mcu cannon violence. Insecurities, fear. Hongjoong is very broken. Mention of weapons. Smut, eating out. Nipple play. Making out. Clothing being ripping off (literally). Marking kink. Pleasure bruising.

Masterlist | Navigation

Sneaking around became the easiest thing for you. Being quiet, a true assassin, as Nat would say. It became your specialty out in the field for missions, taking another path from the rest, gliding along the floor without a sound before attacking the enemy from behind without them ever being able to catch a glance at you. This skill of yours became your trump card for sneaking out at night. Whether you were staying in your apartment in the Avengers compound or staying the week at the sanctum sanctorum with Wong and your overly protective brother, Stephen. No one ever noticed you were gone for hours in the night or missing at odd hours through the day. Who would, though? Besides your brother. You were a SHIELD agent before an Avenger, and no one fully trusts SHIELD agents ever since Hydra tried to take over the world, basically. 

But you guess they had every right to hate SHIELD. You hated them, too. You hated what they did to everyone. What they did to you. Jumping over a fence gate to start through a dimly lit alleyway. It's the same alley you take every night. You’ve taken this path so many times you think you could do it with your eyes closed. Down the alley, across the fourth street, take the fire escape up to the eighth floor through the window of apartment 802 and then;

“Doll…” His voice was deep, dark. Your body felt him before your eyes could gaze at him. His hands were on your waist, tugging at the hem of your jacket. You could smell the tattered leather and whiskey aroma seeping off him. His breath pooled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He was pure sin, a walking red flag. But god, you loved everything about it.

“Hello, Soldat.” Your words slipped off your tongue like beautiful vintage wine, seductive and tasteful. You missed this, miss him. You had been away on missions for the past month, spending nights craving to see your dark soldier. He finally turned you around, letting you see his blue eyes. His lustful eyes stared intensely into yours, reading your expression. A moment of silence pooled around both of you. The sound of the distant traffic and people being rowdy on the night streets all seemed to disappear. Fade out. Leaving only you and him. 

“You took too long.” His gravelled voice made you chuckle. He almost sounded sad that you had taken so long to get back to him, and in truth, he was worried he would miss you entirely. He was only in the city for another 2 weeks or so before Hydra shipped him back to one of the bases. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight them, as they had his code words to keep him in check. But when he met you a couple of months ago while he was on a stakeout, it changed him. You made him feel again.

Maybe being a villain wasn’t something he was good at, as he thought. Anyone of those Hydra agents would have killed you for getting too close, but he willingly let you in without even knowing. And now here he is. Craving your touch when you're gone, missing your voice when he sleeps. His life has been nothing but hatred and darkness, and now he has a light.

His lips attached to yours, not letting you think of any excuse for you being away. The kiss was nothing but lustful and rough, his large body flush against yours, pushing you slowly until your back hit the wall with a thump. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer―if that was even possible―.

“Soldat…” His label slipped off your tongue perfectly as he pulled away from your lips so he could latch them onto the hot flesh of your neck, He wastes no time to snake his hands under your shirt, gliding his hot flesh and cold metal fingers on your skin. The different temperature sends shivers down your spine. You drop your hands to grab the hem of your shirt so you could undress cause you know too well if he had to wait any longer he would just start ripping fabric and you don’t want to walk home again without any panties like last time.

“Pretty….” He whispered, seeing your top half bare―having pulled your bra off along with your shirt―. His rough hands gripped your hips before chucking you over his shoulder, walking you to the bedroom into the very empty apartment. He chucked you onto the mattress that has only one lone sheet on it and a pillow. You hit the bed with a huff, sitting up on your elbows to watch your soldier unclip his tactical straps, letting his knife holsters fall to the ground. He didn’t remove anything else just yet. He needed to taste you, and his clothes were taking too long to remove.

“All mine.” He smirked sadistically, feeling proud of himself to have such a gorgeous thing below him. He locked his lips with your nipple, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud while his metal hand pinched the other.

“James please…” you begging while using his real name sparked something in him. Something almost human…. a low growl followed by his hands gripping your panties before ripping them off you. So much for not ruining any of your clothes. He dived into your core without another second, giving you a sharp shock to your system when his tongue met with your hot dripping core. You would have felt an unbelievable amount of embarrassment by the noises coming from your lips. Or the fact you have the winter soldier, the cruellest assassin between your legs. But you couldn’t care less. The feeling of his tongue, his hands, his body, him, being against you. It was your own villainous heaven. And you wanted more, more, more.

“Soldat I’m―” Before you could finish your sentence you felt the band in your stomach snap, cumming all over James's face. He grunted slightly, moving back up your body quickly. He was brutal, biting, sucking, and licking your hot flesh, leaving bruises and hickeys in his wake for you to admire in the mornings to come. 

“My pretty hero, falling apart for her soldier.” You whine, his words melted your core, but you also felt cringe slightly at the pet name. He knew you hated that label, but he used it anyway. To tease you for being ‘such a good girl’ in his words. Hero? Would a hero be fucking the enemy right now? Would the hero be in love with the villain? What kind of enemies-to-lover crap concept is that? You weren’t a hero. You were more, morally grey than anything. You would never agree with what Hydra does, but then again, James didn’t agree with them either, but it was all he knew or all he remembered. All he is and was.

But some of the things these so-called heroes do are just as bad. It was just because they were labelled as heroes that they got away with it. Your brother and the Avengers were heroes. Not you. You didn’t care for the world. The world never cared for you, so why should you try and save something that never loved you in the first place? All you wanted was your soldier, your fucked up, broken, villainous but caring soldier. 

“James...” His eyes snapped up to yours the second he heard his name slip off your tongue. He felt the position of sucking on your thighs to bring his lips to yours, giving you a slow, drawn-out kiss. It was a soothing kiss, filled with passion, unlike the rougher ones he had given you earlier in the night. He wanted it to last, just for a moment, so he could feel what it was like to be normal. To feel the humanity you gifted him. He finally pulls away to look you in the eyes so he can hear your question, but his heart stops when your words slip from your lips.

“Let’s run away…”

Run? 

He never thought of that. Running away from Hydra. Even after all these years of captivity and when they slowly extended his leash ever so slightly until he was alone to finally have peace and quiet. He never once thought running was an option. That is until he met you. His hands snaked up from their tight grip on your hips to lay on either side of your face. His nose grazed your own, closing your eyes for a moment. You both basked in the comforting silence. You knew he wouldn’t answer right away. Heck, you didn’t even know the answer for your own emotions to the question. Are you really willing to run? Run from being an Avenger? Run from your brother. God, he would kill you if he found out….

“Okay…” He uttered, sounding ever so slightly afraid. A shake in his tone.

“Okay.” You whispered for confirmation, letting your hand cup his cheek, making him nuzzle into it. His lips pressed against yours once again, feeling an alluring sense of happiness. He was the only thing you wanted, and you to him.

The sound of a zipper catches your attention but his tongue in your mouth successfully distracts you and it’s only until you feel the heat from the tip of his cock meet your entrance, that you knew he was pushing slowly into you.

“James…” You gasped into the kiss, making him pull away so he could sit up, gripping your hips in order to thrust more harshly. He watched you slowly come undone, whining, gripping the sheet and rolling your eyes at the vigorous ecstasy you were feeling. He watched the way your tits bounced in time with his thrusts or the way a reddish blush takes over your face. You were so perfect to him. His little hero, his angel. The love of his life. The person he wants to be with forever.

“I love you…” His words came out in a grunt as he picked up the pace, gliding his metal hand down to circle your clit. You wiggled and panted under him, crying from the pleasure but also for the fact he said those three words. The words you craved to hear slip from his mouth one day, and they finally did.

“I love you too. So, so much.” Tears wet your cheeks, making him lean down to kiss the falling tears away. He was in too deep with you―metaphorically and literally―and he was going to do anything to have you, protect you. Even if that meant killing everyone in Hydra with his bare fucking hands or hurting some of those so called heroes that might try and take you away from him. You are his and he wasn’t going to let anyone have you ever again.

“Mine…”

[acronym-chaos]

Poolrooms Creature ID Pack

[PT: Poolrooms Creature ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Abyss, Aqua, Azure, Azureth, Bracken, Briny, Brook, Calm, Cascade, Cerulean, Chloris, Coral, Cove, Delphine, Delta, Dew, Drift, Echo, Edd, Eddy, Fathom, Fjord, Foam, Gale, Haze, Harbor, Haven, Hydra, Indigo, Iris, Jet, Lagoon, Lapis, Lucent, Maris, Marlow, Marina, Marsh, Mist, Mire, Nereus, Nix, Oceane, Onyx, Pearl, Pelagia, Placid, Rain, Reef, Rivulet, Serenity, Shoal, Silt, Solstice, Spray, Stillwater, Storm, Surge, Tempest, Tidal, Tranquil, Torrent, Vale, Vortex, Wade, Warden, Wash, Waverly, Whisper, Zephyr

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Aqu / Aqua / Aquas; Curr / Current / Currents; Dee / Deep / Deeps; Dri / Drift / Drifts; Flo / Flow / Flows; Gli / Glide / Glides; Har / Bor / Harbor; Hue / Huem / Hues; Mi / Mis / Mist; Po / Ol / Pool; Rill / Rills / Rills; Rip / Ripple / Ripples; Shoa/ Shoal / Shoals; Sli / Slide / Slides; Slip / Slips / Slips; Spra / Spray / Sprays; Su / Sur / Surge; Ti / Tide / Tides; Va / Vap / Vapor; Wa / Wav / Wave; Wa / Wad / Wade; Whir / Whirl / Whirls

Titles

[PT: Titles].

A Drifter of Endless Pools; A Whisperer in the Depths; The Lurker Beneath the Surface; The Echo of the Pool; The Keeper of Submerged Secrets; The Phantom of the Waters; The Silent Watcher of the Tides; The Glider of Shallow Waters; The Riddle of the Poolrooms; The Wave that Never Breaks; The Haunt of the Flooded Halls; The Silent Swimmer; The Reflector of the Abyss; The One Who Glides Through Water; [Pronoun] Who Lurks in the Depths; [Pronoun] Who Glides Beneath the Surface; [Pronoun] Who Reflects the Abyss

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, end ID]

Requested by @rwuffles!

Also tagging: @pronoun-arc @id-pack-archive

[atlasscrumpit]

Yandere Bucky. Hydra AU

Bucky is still the winter soldier. Hydra brought him the reader so he wouldn't get bored in his cell and attack guards. Bucky begins to develop feelings for and obsession with her. Even though she had her in his cell. he still feels different because of his metal arm. So he asks Hydra scientists to put a metal arm on her too.

Just Like Me

You sat against the corner of the cold blood stained cell as you stared wife eyed at the super soldier glaring at you.

Unlike him, the muzzle on your mouth was only able to be removed by a special key your handler had. But, now the soldier held that key in his hand.

He knelt down to your level and reached up to run his hand through your hair.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone like you..." He whispered, tilting his head like a lion sizing up its prey.

He leant in and rested his forehead against your, breathing in your scent as he sighed.

He reached behind your head and gently took the muzzle off before he kissed your lips softly.

You were frozen in shock as he kissed you, you were surprised how gentle he was.

He sat down and stared at you.

"What do they call you?" He asked as you tried to find the words to speak.

"They always just called me 78." You whispered as he thought for a moment.

"How about I just call you doll?" He asked as you nodded a little, not wanting to anger him.

He reached forward and watched as you flinched, he paused.

"Don't be afraid." He whispered as he gently ran his hand up your thigh.

"I'm not like them, you know." He growled lowly as you looked at him in fear.

"I won't force you to..." He trailed off as you nodded a little.

"But, you are mine now. I can do whatever I want with you, like feeling your soft skin, or having you pressed against me while I sleep." He whispered, his hand gliding over your soft skin.

You weren't sure if he was talking to you or just himself.

He leant in again and looked into your eyes before kissing you again.

You had to admit, when you were told you were going to be the soldiers play toy, you thought the moment he saw you he would attack you...or worse.

He ran his hand up your arm, his metal hand squeezing the skin.

"Perfect." He whispered before he held your hands and helped you to stand up, looking over your body.

"Is this all I have to do now...?" You whispered as he reached up and held your face in his hand.

"Yes, you're only purpose is to be mine. That's it. Don't worry about those other men, they'll never touch you again." He growled, his grip on your face becoming a little rough.

He stepped back and sighed.

"I-I'll control myself." He grumbled as you nodded a little.

"It's fine... I've had to deal with a lot worse." You whispered as he looked at you sadly.

"I just haven't...haven't touched someone in so long." He muttered, slowly coming forward again before he reached up to play with your hair.

"This place is nothing but coldness and pain and you're just so...pretty and warm." He whispered, leaning in to hug you and bury his face in the crook of you neck.

You hesitantly wrapped your arms around him in return as you both just stood there for a while.

You wouldn't admit it but it did feel nice to have something other than torture for once.

--

Time passed and you soon grew bored of your nee purpose in Hydra. You could feel yourself getting weaker everyday, sure you had food and water but you hadn't been outside for so long.

You were starting to lose your mind...and so was the solider.

He came back after a torture session and began clawing at his metal arm.

You scurried to the corner in fear.

"Soldier... It's okay!" You shouted before he ran up to you and pinned you against the wall.

"I'm hideous!" He screamed in your face as your eyes widened with fear.

"You aren't hideous, not at all soldier." You whispered back as he looked down at your arm and ran his hand down it.

"I want you to know what it's like... I want you to be like me." He whispered looking back into your eyes as you looked at him in shock.

"W-What? Soldier, you don't mean that." You whispered, fear evident in your voice as he leant in and kissed you.

"We could be so powerful together, doll. It'll just be us... We can take down Hydra. Think of how much power you'll have with an arm like mine." He said, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I don't want to, please." You begged as he smiled softly.

"It won't hurt for long, doll."

[pupsmailbox]

JELLYFISH ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ aequora. aequorea. aether. agris. alatina. andromeda. anemone. angel. angeli. angelica. angelina. aquamarine. aquatique. astraea. astro. athena. atolla. aura. aurelia. aurita. aurite. baia. bio. biolumine. blanche. blu. blue. bluette. capillata. caru. cassiopeia. cephea. chiro. chrysali. chrysao. cnidaria. coral. coralle. cordelia. cosima. cosmo. crystal. crystalle. cyanea. cyanei. dentelle. divinity. dove. eleuth. eleuthiria. ephyra. ethie. ethy. evangeline. eve. fishie. fishy. flo. floa. float. floatesse. floatette. floatie. floaty. frill. frillice. frillie. frilline. frillisea. frillita. frillyn. frillyne. frillyta. frisweet. glow. glowesse. glowette. guppie. guppy. halo. heaven. hydridae. hydrozoa. idol. idolette. illuminette. innosweet. jefrill. jell. jellace. jelle. jellette. jellice. jellicent. jellie. jelliette. jellimer. jellina. jelline. jellisea. jellisweet. jellita. jelly. jellyfish. jellysh. lagoona. lumi. lumie. lumine. luminescence. luminesse. luminette. marina. marine. mauve. medus. medusa. medusae. medusanne. meduse. medusozoa. mer. mermi. monema. moon. moonie. moonlight. moony. muse. mysti. méduse. nadar. nager. neptune. noctiluca. nomina. nomura. ocean. oceania. oceanne. olindias. onceanne. ophelia. polyp. reef. scyfrill. scyph. scyphozoa. searene. selsi. seraphim. shim. shimmer. shimmerette. shimmerie. siren. sirene. smuckie. spottie. squish. squishie. squishy. sting. stinger. stingette. stingie, stingie. stingy. swefrill. tagi. tenta. tentaclesse. tentaclette. tenti. tide. twinkle. twinklette. ulma. velella. whimsy. wisteria.

PRONOUNS ⌇ ae/aem. afterlife/afterlife. an/angel. angel/angel. aq/aqua. atol/atolla. blue/blue. ceph/cephea. cherub/cherub. choir/choir. cloud/cloud. cor/cor. crys/crystal. dance/dance. decor/decor. deity/deity. divine/divine. dream/dream. dress/dress. dri/drift. drift/drift. drip/drip. drop/drop. feather/feather. flo/float. float/float. fluff/fluff. fri/frill. frill/frill. glide/glide. glow/glow. hi/hym. high/highnes. holy/holy. hy/hydra. hymn/hymn. idol/idol. illuminate/illuminate. immortal/immortal. inn/innocent. jel/jel. jel/jelly. jelly/jelly. jelly/jellyfish. lamb/lamb. light/light. lu/lumi. lumi/lumi. lumi/luminou. luminescent/luminescence. luminescent/luminescent. mar/marine. mari/marine. medu/meduse. mer/maid. moon/moon. nettle/nettle. nom/nom. ocea/ocean. ocean/ocean. pastel/pastel. petti/petticoat. pink/pinkie. pop/pop. pre/preform. preform/preform. pure/pure. regal/regal. rhyme/rhyme. rhythm/rhythm. rock/rock. sacred/sacred. scy/scyph. scy/scyr. sea/sea. sheep/sheep. shi/hyr. shim/shimmer. shimmer/shimmer. show/show. silly/silly. sing/sing. sing/song. smack/smack. song/song. splish/splash. stage/stage. sti/sting. sting/sting. sting/stinger. swe/sweet. swi/swim. swim/swim. tenta/tentacle. tentacle/tentacle. tenti/tenti. tide/tide. twinkle/twinkle. vae/vaer. wa/wave. wave/wave. wing/wing. 🌊/🌊.

[tyinghershoe]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Constellation Kisses

In which you make a wish upon his star-speckled face.

Pairing: Izuku midoriya x reader

Genre: fluff, Drabble

check out my masterlist!

Izuku would never admit it, but he likes it when you trace his freckles. 

The softness of your fingertips lightly melts onto his face as you glide them all over. 

He loves everything that comes with this form of intimacy.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and you both finished your homework. Everyone is gone, getting ready to go to the party that Kirishima slyly mentioned a few hours prior. All that is left in this hall is you and your green-eyed lover. 

You’re both laying on his bed - Izuku has his head on your lap, as both of you stare at the screen in front of you. It’s been so long since the two of you had any alone time, so you both decided to have a movie night in his dorm.

“What are you doing, silly?” He slurred, looking up into your eyes when he noticed your fingertips began to halt. You giggled slightly, brushing his hair to the side so that you could get a better look at his star-speckled face. 

“Sorry,” you began, “It’s just that some of your freckles look like constellations.” You smiled down at him, quickly tracing a few of them that you swear to resemble Hydra. You began to move your fingers again, making sure to apply just the right amount of pressure that you know he loves. 

“Is that so?” He hummed, closing his eyes as he tried his best to live in this moment. For Izuku, the tranquility that came from this was something he would forever cherish.

“You should make a wish then.” He suggested, placing his hand on top of yours so you can fully digest what he said. His calloused arm engulfed yours, as he began to rub his thumb over your knuckles.

“A wish?” You questioned, looking at him with uncertainty. He gave you a small smile, finding your confusion cute.

“If you wish towards a star, it’ll come true.” He explained, getting up from your lap, so that he can be face to face with you. His bed-head was extremely noticeable, and his oversized tshirt was falling off of his shoulders.

“Alright, I guess I’ll make one.” You mumbled, closing your eyes so that you can fully concentrate on what you’d want. Izuku ruffled your hair as you began to think.

It didn’t take that long for you to decide on something - you were never that materialistic, so good health, love, and friendships were all your top priority.

Once you opened your eyes, you couldn’t help but feel bad. Your lover has given you the opportunity to fulfill a desire, yet you can’t reciprocate it for him.

“I’m sorry Izuku.. I don’t have enough freckles for you to wish upon.” You mumbled, pushing yourself towards him, so that you can embrace him in a semi-guilt filled hug.

He took in your current state. You were as beautiful as always, and the glow of your skin would surely make the moon goddess jealous. It’s been a few months since you two started dated, but still - Izuku was thankful he was really yours.

“Mmm that’s okay,” he said, pulling you closer into his chest, as he kissed your forehead, “I don’t need a wish.”

It was a Saturday afternoon and the stars were already out.

-

a/n. just some fluff I thought about while listening to some music.

Follow me on ao3! @tyinghershoe

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XII

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: You get one Hydra, you get all.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams(You get the sweets), @egrets-not-regrets(you too.) @thevoidscreams (I blame you.)

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: If you are under the age of 18. Shoo! Go away! Skedaddle! Why you reading this in the first place? Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself.

TW // SMUT/NSFW.

The heat of the bath relaxed my sore muscles from the latest intercourse I had with Solor. Which the Hydra’s were not too friendly about. Taking my jellied body from Solors smug arms, and into the house for a much needed rest. I have no doubt they were going to have a talk about the more “rules'' they need to put between their “deal.”

I hummed, feeling a little too nauseous after staying in the heated bath for too long. Slowly rising from the bath with a dull ache on my shoulders. My legs nearly fell out from underneath me, making me rethink if it was a good idea to have that intercourse with Solor, because he didn’t hesitate to act on my desires, and do good at it too. Slower, friendlier than last time, but damn, didn’t it feel good.

Just thinking about it made my thighs clench around nothing. My fingers clutched around the shower curtain for stability after unplugging the bath. Why in the hell was I acting like a hormonal teenager? Ready to pounce on any of my partner’s I saw.

Wait, my partner’s?

Did I really think of them that way? As a partner? No, it was something more than a partner wasn’t? You don’t just have some heated intimacy with a stranger, and have them stay with you afterwards, and do it again and again. This was definitely more than just partners. This was something more, like spouse level. Did I think of them as a spouse? Did they think I was a spouse to them? A mate? Was that even… possible for them? Was that something they yearn for?

I shook my head, and grabbed a towel from the counter; drying off. Avoiding the more serious marks, and bruises on my body before wrapping it about my body and making my way into the bedroom to put on some comforting clothing, but stopped in the middle of the archway.

There stood Levithan staring right back at me. His hand in his armor in prep to take it off. A low rumble left him as his eyes roamed my body, observing every little crease, and skin presented to him. Leaving me unsure if he was admiring my body, or simply studying it.

“You… passing through?” I asked, watching how his mouth slightly opened, showing his teeth that would surely make you think he was a leviathan.

His hand went back to the side before leaning a little closer. His head hovered right above my shoulders, and he huffed at me, tickling my neck as I laughed a little. Intrigued, he came closer and did the same thing again while I tried to step back with another laugh, but his hand shot forward stopping me from escaping his ticklish huffs against my neck. Curling his body so he can stuff his head in my neck, giving it playful little nips.

“Levithan!” I shrieked, his body rumbling in a resemblance of a chuckle. His teeth, carefully biting along my shoulder. Occasionally giving little licks here and there. His hands slowly gliding down the sides of my body as I suppressed a shiver.

I could feel him smirk on my neck before he lifted me up. His mouth moved over to capture my lips on his own. Swallowing down that yelp as he pinned me to the wall. My thighs being palmed by his grabby hands. Pushing himself flush up against me while I moaned into his mouth. His actions getting me worked up.

I tried talking again when he pulled back, but his hand came up and lighty took a hold of my throat. Pinning my head back onto the wall, showing my neck to him as he purred out. Pleased with the compliance. His long tongue coming out to lap at the marks Solor had created. Coating them with his own saliva. Remarking them.

A whine left me as he tugged the towel to the side, exposing me to him. While he slowly pushed me down on his length. Cooing at me, and keeping my head pinned back at the same time. My eyebrows scrunching together as I wasn’t prepared for his size. I was never prepared with any of them really, but with some comparison. Leviathan had to be the second biggest.

My hands settled on his arm the held my neck in place as he rutted into me, a cry leaving me as he squeezed just a little bit in a silent warning. His hips picking up in a deep, rhythmic pace. Hitting all the right places.

I would have moaned out his name if it wasn’t for his hand on my neck, and his tongue tasting my my sweaty skin while he growled out warnings with each thrust. Each one becoming much more harsh than the last.

Leviathan pulled me to him, and put his lips a mine. His tongue taking immediate dominance as I moaned in his mouth. His body pressing flush up against mine, slowly rutting into me as he filled me up. Twitching inside of me while he let go of my neck while I rested my head on his pauldrons. His hands slowly dragging up and down my sides while he kept rutting into me, purring in my ear.

A trill pulled me out of my afterglow. My head coming up from Leviathans pauldron to look at the noise. Getting surprised with a needy kiss instead by Hydra.

“You came here to the mark her without us, brother?” Asclepius chided lightly, dragging his gauntlet across my leg. My nerves still sensitive as I twitched around Leviathan, earning a groan from him.

Leviathan rumbled at his brother while Hydra kept me occupied with his make-out session.

“Well, we are all here now, are we not?” Asclepius grinned, sliding his gauntlet down to my hip. The other two trilling in agreement while I clenched back down on Levithan. His hips moving once more.

This was going to be a long night.

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XIII

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XI

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

[questionableratatouille00]

ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ (ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪɴᴇ)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bath time with Bucky? On Valentine’s Day? Hell yeah.

Warnings: Handjobs (B receiving), bath sex, fluff, slight allusion to HYDRA trash party/non-con.

[Collection M. List]

“You did this?” You gasp, looking into the bathroom. There’s rose petals in the tub, which is filled with hot water. There’s candles placed around the room in specific spots so that there’s no fire hazards.

Your boyfriend nods, smiling gently. “All for you, doll.”

You press a kiss to his lips, smiling. “You’re awesome, Buck. I love you.”

He smiles, feeling absolutely proud of himself.

“C’mon, aren’t you gonna get in with me?” You chuckled, quickly stripping your clothes off of your body.

He nods, quietly doing the same. “You want me to sit in front of you or behind you?”

“Mmm…in front of me.” You smile. “So I can hug you.”

“Alright.” He nods, watching as you get in the tub. You spread your legs to the sides of the tub as he settles in between them.

You gently rest your back against the back of the tub, and Bucky rests against your chest. You wrap your hands around his waist, setting your chin against his shoulder.

“I love you.” He says after a moment.

“Aww, babe, I love you too. I think this is one of the best Valentine’s Days I’ve ever had.” You murmured. “Me too.” He sighed happily. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to go to the party. I know you wanted to see everybody.” He said after a moment.

Every year Tony had a Valentines party. You loved the damn things, but Bucky did not. And he was so willing to just bear it for you, but you could tell that deep down he wanted nothing to do with the event—or parties in general.

Loud noises, drunk people, large crowds? Yeah right.

So you didn’t go. And you were perfectly fine with that.

“Baby, it’s okay. I’d much rather be here in the bath with you.” You said.

“Are you sure? I..you were so excited to go. You love those parties.” He frowned.

“Yeah. But I love you more. I have no regrets. Period.” You expressed. You pressed a kiss to his left shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I love you too. With all my heart, dollface.” He confessed.

“You set up the little iPad in here. You wanna watch a movie?” You offered.

“Sure. What do you wanna watch?”

“How about the rom-com Valentine’s Day?”

“Sure, hon.” He set it up and the movie began.

You rested your hands on his thighs, rubbing circles into them with your thumbs.

You were distracted from the movie by a hitch in his breath.

“Babe?” You looked at him, adjusting do you could see his face better. And then your eyes trailed down and…oh.

“Shit, did I—my bad.” You moved your hands off his thighs, but he grabbed them, moving them back into place.

“No—it’s, it’s okay. I uh, I like it.” He murmured.

There was a complicated history with Bucky and getting an erection, one of which you knew most of.

Sometimes you’d be in ‘sexy’ situations and he’d get hard, sometimes he wouldn’t. You never minded.

Normally him getting hard without the explicit intention to have sex would make him uncomfortable, and he’d try and get out of whatever situation he was in. But not now.

“You sure?” You raise a brow. You want him to feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

He nodded quickly. “Mhm.”

You weren’t entirely sure what the vibe was here. “Do you want..do you want me to—“

“Touch me.” He said suddenly. “Yes. I want you to touch me. If you want to,” he added.

“I do.” You murmured against his shoulder. “Let me know if you need me to stop, yeah?” You breathed.

“Got it.” He hummed.

You trailed your hand down his abs, resting at his base. You gave his hard cock a slow, steady stroke as you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

You rubbed your thumb over his tip, and he sucks in a breath. You glide your hand back up his shaft, slowly settling into a rhythm he seems to like the best.

Slow and gentle touches turn into satisfying pumps at his aching cock. He even bucks his hips once or twice, and you revel in the soft sounds he makes.

“Fuck—I’m close.” He warns, his brows furrowed and his cheeks a gentle pink.

“It’s alright, baby. Just let go; I’ve got you.” You whisper gently.

And he does, letting out the most beautiful noise you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, doll.” He whispers out into the air. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You press a kiss to his neck. “I love you too. But we’re not done yet.” You grinned.

A/n: choices were made. Uhhhhhhhhh ok bye

graphics by @saradika-graphics

[meringuejellyfish]

yesterday i ran into two hydra dragons not even 5 minutes apart. cant even cross god damn hylias bridge anymore. i wanted to go say hi to one and had to hop into a nearby whirlpool to escape

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧

Synopsis: Steve Rogers loves Y/N. There’s no question about it. She’s his calm in the middle of the storm and his sunshine in the middle of the rain. But, when Hydra resurfaces and Y/N's name is suddenly whispered with doubt, Steve is faced with a decision that will test the limits of his love and loyalty. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes and allusions to sex. Description of blood and violence. Minors DNI.

Genre: Angst | Fluff

Word Count: 10K

All Masterlists | Steve Rogers Masterlist

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄 stillness that came with midnight; peaceful darkness that arrived before the chaos fell.

In the depths of midnight, the world danced to its own steady rhythm, a symphony of harmonious notes in the grand orchestra of the universe. And amidst this whirlwind of silent activity, Steve was a steady beacon of calm, not caught up in the tumultuous currents or pulled down by the undertow. He was just a man embracing the stillness that surrounded him. Embracing her.

“Stevie.” His heart fluttered at the whisper of his name, running one mile faster. He tightened his hold on the woman in his arms, eyes shifting from the dark canvas of the night to her brilliant eyes. “Why are you still awake?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” His voice resonated in a low register, a stark contrast to the higher octaves it reached during the day. Even his eyes were a few shades darker, blue-green diluted to a cobalt blue. It was an aftermath of darkness, one that he didn’t hate one bit. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered, sleep weighing her lashes down. She tilted her head and stared at Steve with a dazed look filled to the brim with the love they had spent the night chasing. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby?” 

His thumb traced the edge of her lips. Goosebumps rose on his skin when her quiet sigh glided across his naked chest. “Thinking about you,” he admitted, absentmindedly pushing her upper lip with his thumb. “When am I not thinking about you?” 

“I feel like this is a trick question.” 

Steve chuckled. “It’s not.” 

“Then can you rephrase it into one I can confidently answer?” 

Do you know how much I love you? he thought of first. Have you got a single clue about how much I want to draw you? Here. With me. In this very moment, and immortalize it for the rest of my life and evermore? But his words always faltered when they traversed the distance between his mind and tongue. In the end, the sight of Y/N's face left him speechless. 

A profound stillness descended upon the moment and a divine feeling that felt too magical to be real set off a burst of fireworks in his body. Steve's hand sought out Y/N's, his fingers delicately tracing the contours of her palm. “Will you promise me to be careful on the mission tomorrow?”

He settled for an easier question, though there was so much emphasis on the unsaid than on the question itself. But Y/N understood. She always did. She lifted herself just the slightest bit. The lavender sheets slid down, exposing the swell of her breasts and the colorful mark Steve’s lips implanted on the walls of her heart. 

Her index finger left a trail across his sternum, neck, and cheek. Steve groaned then, his lungs heavy with the pressure of her love. He closed his eyes, fingers tightening on her exposed back—not enough to leave a bruise yet enough to make his claim. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Stevie.” 

“It’s Hydra, Y/N,” he breathlessly replied. He chewed on his lower lip, partly because of her earlier ministrations and mostly because of the way her lips curled into that tired smile he loved so much. 

“And I’m just Y/N?” 

“No,” Steve refuted. “You’re not just Y/N. But you’re not enhanced either, doll. I hate it when you get involved in dangerous missions, more so the ones I’m not involved in.” 

"Steve, I understand where you're coming from. We've talked about this before. I know I don't have super strength like you and Bucky or any special powers like Bruce and Thor. But that doesn't make me invaluable. If Natasha, Tony, and Clint can do it, then so can I."

The force of her words brought a heavy sigh out of Steve. Y/N was always soft-spoken. Gentle with her words and even more with her voice. And it amazed Steve that even at midnight, when the world was sleeping and the quiet overbearing, Y/N never made an effort to shatter the silence. 

“Natasha did get a version of the serum, and Tony has his Iron Man suit. As for Clint…” 

“He finds himself in the cradle more times than Dr. Cho can count. I know.” Y/N tried to mask her annoyed reaction but couldn’t. 

The crease in the middle of her brows disappeared with a quick kiss left by Steve on her temple, but the pout on her lips remained. Steve took this as an excuse to kiss her properly. His heartbeats matched Y/N’s—his enhanced hearing told him that, and Y/N didn't need the serum to figure out that his heartbeats had been galloping at an inhuman speed. 

“I worry about you. That’s all.” 

“I worry about you too.” She placed her forehead against his, the tips of their noses touching. “But I trust you enough to know that you will do everything in your power to come back to me. And I know I’m just, well, me. But can you trust that—”

The words barely reached the edge before they retreated back into Y/N’s mouth. Pushed by the force of Steve’s tongue. Y/N whimpered as she fell on her back. Steve's hand weaved into her hair, his fingers curling around the strands and pulling gently to reveal the nape of her neck.

“I trust you,” he groaned while placing open mouth kisses on her neck. Y/N moaned without any restraint when Steve licked her collarbone and sucked the skin with his swollen lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Her legs subconsciously opened, allowing Steve to settle in between them. As soon as his erection met the bare skin of her pussy, Y/N’s restraints shattered. One hand gripped the bedsheets while the other found refuge in Steve’s blond locks, holding onto him without a single willingness to let go. “I love you so much.” 

He eagerly drew a line from her navel to her hip bone with his hot breath, reveling in the way she squirmed and lifted her hips in search of friction. Teasingly, he let his teeth subtly scrape her skin. Y/N sighed in delight, her own teeth grazing her lower lips as Steve pursued his ministrations. “Why do you love me, doll?” 

She breathed deeply, tugging on his hair to bring him to the surface, but he refused. Steve tutted, tongue exploring her most sensitive area in a slow, sensual dance. "I don't need any reasons to love you, Steve. My heart just knows what it wants."

He smiled, moving down further to kiss those lower lips of hers, showing her exactly how much he loved her too.

Steve and Natasha were losing it. Their jet had barely landed before the two of them rushed across the hangar bay, their hearts overcrowded with anticipation. 

According to FRIDAY, the mission Y/N, Bucky, and Sam were on had gone terribly wrong. The AI had relayed this information while Steve and Natasha had been in Patagonia following a lead on Hydra. 

The base had been infiltrated with disconcerting ease, a fact that didn't sit well with Steve. It was then that the misfortunate news reached their ears. And it seemed like this would be the first checkpoint in a road of unfortunate circumstances because FRIDAY barely had time to explain further when a high-pitched static noise filled the air, drowning out her words. 

Steve and Natasha instinctively clamped their hands over their ears, trying their best to focus despite the sheer force against their skulls. They momentarily closed their eyes—as if this would help soothe the sound. And when they opened them, dozens of Hydra operatives poured into the room with their weapons at the ready. 

Without a word, Steve and Natasha sprang into action, moving in perfect unison as they fought back against their attackers. 

Mind consumed with thoughts of Y/N and her safety, Steve was desperate to get back to her. As if his shield could sense his urgency, it flew from his grip with newfound vigor, striking enemies with a force that seemed almost supernatural. But no matter how hard Steve and Natasha tried to neutralize the enemy as fast as possible, it took them a lot more time and effort than anticipated. 

The two worked together tirelessly, taking down Hydra agents left and right. But when they finally reached the room where the intel they were looking for was supposed to be, it was completely empty.

Now back at the compound, Steve vehemently punched the elevator’s buttons, grabbing Natasha and hastily pulling her inside. The two impatiently waited for the elevator to signal that they’d arrived at the med bay. Once they heard it, they didn’t miss the chance to bolt across the hallway. 

Steve didn’t know the extent of his worry, nor did he understand the severity of his anxious thoughts, until he burst through the sliding doors and found Y/N sitting in the waiting room. Unharmed. Unscathed. Alive.

"Y/N," he whispered, enveloping her in his embrace. She clung onto his combat vest with all her might just as he tightened his hold on her tinier frame. “What happened, babydoll? FRIDAY said the mission was a bust before all communication was cut off. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Stevie. I’m fine.” 

Her voice was shaky and riddled with anxiety. Maybe it was his own panic that made her voice seem muffled compared to his thunderous thoughts. But she sounded so small at that moment, he couldn’t help but plant a kiss on the crown of her head, inhaling the remnants of her orchid perfume. 

"I'm so relieved to see you're unharmed, Y/N. Are Bucky and Sam alright too? Could you tell me what happened, doll?"

Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away from Steve but remained within his grasp. She peered at Natasha, her eyes glassy and sorrowful, enough to tell her that whatever happened wasn’t good.

“Sergeant Wilson is in the cradle while Sergeant Barnes is in a private room," the new voice spoke up, catching Steve and Natasha's attention. Sharon strode towards them, holding a manila folder in her hand. “From what Dr. Cho and her assistants said, they’ll both be okay. But they were significantly hurt. Barnes is heavily sedated at the current moment. Dr. Banner is also trying to figure out a way to fix his vibranium arm.” 

For a second, Natasha’s eyes flashed with worry, her composure faltering under the weight of Sharon’s words. “What happened to his arm?”

“They destabilized it, Nat. I don’t know how,” Y/N answered. 

Natasha nodded grimly. She didn’t say anything else, leaving the three of them to search for her boyfriend. 

“I know this may not be the right time, Cap. But I just got off a call with Mr. Stark. He and Clint are injured too, and their mission was as much a failure as Y/N’s was. They couldn’t find anything. Was your mission at least successful?" 

Steve’s left hand came up to rub his face. He breathed out heavily, the weight of the information bearing down on him. “No, we didn’t find anything either.” 

“I don’t understand.” Y/N shook her head. “SHIELD followed these leads for weeks. How come none of us found anything?” 

Sharon opened the folder in her hand, reading through her notes. Her blue eyes peeled up from under her lashes, focusing on Y/N. “According to your preliminary briefing, you mentioned that there were more than ten Hydra ops. Heavily skilled and highly specialized. Mr. Stark reported the same thing. But why would Hydra station their best men and women at these facilities when there was nothing to guard? Did something stand out to you two?”

Y/N scrunched up her nose, deep in thought as she tried to piece together any relevant details from her trip to Peru.

“We didn’t have the element of surprise.” It wasn’t Y/N that remarked, but her boyfriend that did. “They knew we were coming. As soon as we crossed the threshold, they were there. They disabled FRIDAY and all means of communication at a ten-mile radius. It took us hours before FRIDAY went back online.” 

“Did they do that with you too?” Sharon asked Y/N. 

“No,” she replied. “But they did disable Red Wing and Bucky’s arm now that you mention it.” 

“Different technologies at different facilities?” It was Steve’s turn to inquire. Sharon disagreed. 

“I don’t think so. The Madagascar facility disabled FRIDAY too. And Mr. Stark’s suit malfunctioned.” 

“Then, what do you think it is?” 

“They planted false intel, knew the Avengers were coming, and made a show out of it. And they had the right technology and tools to harm everyone on the team.” Sharon paused, eyes briefly turning to Y/N. “Almost everyone, thankfully.” 

Y/N tapped her foot against the tiles, deep in thought. “What if they’re stalling? Maybe they’re trying to steer us away from the main issue.” 

“No, I don’t think that’s it.”

“I agree with Sharon,” Steve added. “We didn’t have a lead on anything else at the moment. So, they didn’t have to use all those resources.” 

“What are they doing then?” Y/N inquired aloud. 

“Planting a false trail. Trying to deplete our energy so when they do strike, we wouldn’t fully be able to fight them.” 

“Strike,” Sharon repeated. Her thumb went to her mouth, teeth gnawing at the skin—a bad habit Steve had noticed early on when they started working together. “You don’t think we’re facing STRIKE team 2.0, right?” 

Steve felt Y/N bristle next to him. He turned to her, catching a glimpse of her fearful eyes before he turned back to Sharon. “You think Hydra infiltrated SHIELD again?” 

“Maybe. They knew the Avengers were coming, maybe even knew who was coming. Rumlow was once one of Fury’s most trusted agents before he joined Hydra’s ranks, and his entire plans blew up in his face. Literally.” 

Y/N audibly gasped. Steve didn’t need his enhanced hearing to pick up on it. In a swift motion, he whirled around and placed one hand on Y/N’s face and the other on her waist, dutifully scanning her for any physical signs of injuries. She was shaking, hands trembling, and knuckles white from the tightness of her grip on Steve’s biceps. 

“Doll?” 

Y/N hummed. She caught Steve’s fearful gaze, her chest rising in an explicit shudder. “I’m…I—that’s just too much information within such a short time.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have brought all this up now. It wasn’t the right time.” 

“No, Sharon. It’s okay. I’m…I don’t have any physical injuries, so I’ll just go get some rest.”

“I’ll come with you.” 

“No, Steve.” Y/N cleared her throat, trying to even her voice. “Talk to Sharon. I’m not going anywhere; I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

As Y/N left, Steve felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't shake off.

In the quiet of the night, Steve found solace in Y/N's presence. The pile of paperwork on his desk could wait because nothing was more important than the way her fingers danced through his hair, easing the tension in his neck and shoulders.

“Doll.” He leaned back against his chair. His hands reached out to take hers, the contrast between her delicate fingers and his calloused ones not lost on him. “There’s no need for you to stay awake. You came back from a mission not long ago. Go get some rest.” 

Steve brought her hands to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back of each palm before holding them close to his chest. Y/N placed her chin on his head, her fingers dancing across the fabric of his shirt. 

“It was only a recon mission. I’m okay.” 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get your rest.” 

“What’s the point of sleeping in our bed when you’re not there with me? I’d rather stay here.”

“Y/N…” Steve began, voice trailing off the more he got lost in her eyes. He couldn’t even think of the next word to complete his sentence. 

Y/N leaned down, her lips merrily caressing his. He smiled, eagerly accepting the love she offered him with every brush of her sweet lips. Steve tugged one of her hands, urging her to walk around his chair and sit in his lap. As soon as she was settled, he let one of his hands effortlessly pull her legs apart and slide tantalizingly over her thigh. 

Even with the dark leather pants covering her legs, Y/N let out a moan, feeding Steve’s ego. He dove into her mouth, tongue brushing against the roof and teeth nipping her lower lip, pulling it away. Prematurely, the pair had to pause as a knock echoed through the door, disrupting their moment.

"Come in," Steve's gravelly voice commanded. Y/N quickly rose from her seat, her fingers instinctively wiping the smudged lipstick from the corner of her mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry to barge in so late.” It was Sharon who had knocked. She walked inside with an apologetic smile. “I just wanted to drop this by. Fury said it’s better you have it as soon as possible.” Steve nodded at her, extending a hand. Just as he was about to open the file she had handed him, she interrupted, “I feel the need to tell you it’s a Level 8.” 

“None of us here are a Level 8.” 

“You’re the Captain, and I personally gathered this intel,” Sharon remarked. She turned to Y/N with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know how SHIELD is.” 

Y/N's agreement was evident in the soft smile on her face. “Of course. You should probably discuss this with Steve."

She hadn’t taken less than a half step before Steve grabbed her wrist. Surprised, she turned around, her features softening as his thumb rubbed the edge of her wrist. 

“I’ll look at it later. Stay, doll.” With a subtle bite of her lower lip, Y/N watched as Steve unlocked one of his drawers and slid the file into it. Her eyes never left his hands, tracing his long fingers. “Is it Hydra?” he asked with eyes on Sharon. 

She nodded. “It looks like they’re building a new division across their facilities. The entail I’ve gathered mentions everything. It looks pretty serious.” 

“Scope of intelligence?” 

“Sufficient.” 

“Validity of insights?” 

“Accurate.”

“Level of priority?” 

“Urgent. Fury’s going to set a meeting soon, but he wanted you to have the information right away,” Sharon answered. 

Steve nodded, still caressing Y/N's skin with his thumb. "I appreciate it, Sharon."

As the blonde turned to leave, she suddenly halted and pivoted on her heels. “Captain, there shouldn’t be a need to remind you to be vigilant. We still haven’t ruled out the possibility of a Hydra informant among us.” 

To the naked eye, Y/N's nervousness was imperceptible, but not to Steve's trained senses. With his thumb pressed against her pulse point, he could feel the subtle increase in her heart rate and the slight tremble in her fingers.

“You okay?” 

Y/N tried to steady her breathing, hoping to hide her nerves. She forced a small smile and replied, "I’m fine.” 

Her reply didn't satisfy Steve, but he refrained from pressing the issue any further. Once Sharon left, he drew Y/N closer to him. The Hydra ordeal had him feeling on edge, and he knew it was taking a toll on her too. Nevertheless, Steve remained resolute in his determination to make everything right. 

But what he didn't know was that the only way to make things right was to let them go wrong first.

"What's happening?" 

When Y/N stepped out of the elevator, there was a flurry of activity. Agents littered the floor, talking amongst themselves and pointing at their tablets. While this was a common sight at the compound, there hadn't been any commotion when Y/N went to grab dinner forty minutes ago. Yet now, pandemonium reigned over the place.

“Miss Y/L/N!” Peter's voice boomed in contrast to the tense atmosphere. The teenager skidded to a halt next to her. He had both hands up in the air as if he was debating whether he was allowed to hug her or not. “It’s great to see you okay and in one piece! Not that anyone’s hurt, of course. Everyone is perfectly fine. It was just a tiny breach. Well, not that tiny since Miss FRIDAY was disabled, and Mr. Stark was pretty angry that it took him five whole minutes to get her back online. But the good news is everyone is fine, right?”

"Easy there, Spiderling," Bucky said as he stepped out of the corridor, just as Y/N was processing Peter's words. The gashes on his forehead and cheek were now gone, and Tony had successfully rebooted his vibranium arm. “Y/N obviously doesn’t know what’s happening. Don’t bombard her with all this information.” 

Peter scuffed his shoes against the floor, his gaze dropping to the ground.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bucky.” 

“What’s going on, Pete?” Y/N gave the adolescent a sympathetic look. “Why’s everyone on edge?” 

“There’s been a breach in security, Miss Y/L/N. The cameras went down, and Miss FRIDAY was unresponsive for five whole minutes.” 

“What?" Y/N blinked in confusion. "How did this happen?”

“We’re trying to reboot the cameras to see if we can figure anything out. I think you already know who's the prime suspect.” 

"Hydra," Y/N sighed wearily, her gaze fixed on Bucky. "Did they manage to get hold of any sensitive information or plant any malicious software in our systems?"

Peter, who was typing furiously on his laptop this whole time, perked up. He shook his head vehemently, shoving the device in Y/N and Bucky’s faces. "I'm making some progress here and getting closer to cracking the wall they've built. I'm guessing they infiltrated the cloud network and launched a coordinated attack that deactivated all security protocols at once. That’s amazing! No, wait, not amazing. I mean amazing in a sense that—”

“Peter!” 

“Right. Sorry, Miss Y/L/N. Here's the thing. I'm almost certain this was an inside job. They didn't only bypass Miss FRIDAY; they deactivated her and created their own wall for a full five minutes. I'm not entirely sure what they were up to during that time, but they didn’t weaken our—”

Peter's sentence was left unfinished. At first, Bucky and Y/N thought he managed to restore the camera footage. And he did. Because all of them showed no sign of unusual activity as they replayed the five minutes in question. 

But just as the footage was coming to an end, the entire screen went blank. The three Avengers looked perplexed. The screen suddenly lit up, displaying a single sentence. 

Your time is running out, Bambi.

They each wore a different reaction. Bucky bristled, cobalt eyes trying to break through the screen and strangle Hydra. Peter pursed his lips as he read the sentence again and again. As for Y/N, she was transfixed in place, hands trembling by her side, her knees doing very little to keep her steady. 

“Looks like they meant to send a message,” Bucky remarked. And Y/N prayed his super soldier hearing didn’t pick up on her ragged breath or erratic thoughts. 

To say that he was pissed was an understatement. Steve might as well have been livid. It had been almost two weeks since the security breach and a whole month and a half since they suspected a mole in SHIELD’s ranks. Yet, they couldn’t find anything. 

He spent almost every moment working on the latest Hydra missions they’d received—most of them being a total bust. And alongside Fury and Tony, he was digging deeper into SHIELD’s resource pool, trying to find out who could be a suspect. 

Acknowledging that he was in dire need of a break, he begrudgingly retreated to his apartment. Once he arrived, he swiftly removed the jacket that clung to his body and made his way toward the refuge of his personal quarters. When Steve entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the sight that greeted him. There stood Y/N, basking in the natural light that filtered in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, adorned in nothing but his shirt. At that moment, his features softened, and a sense of warmth flooded through him.

He walked up to her, the distance between them closing until they were almost an inch apart. But just as he was about to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, Y/N spun around with surprising speed and swung a punch straight toward his face.

“Woah, Y/N. It’s me!” Steve said once he caught her clenched fist. She gasped, pulling her hand to her side and cradling it close to her chest. “Doll, what’s wrong? Why are you so tense?” 

“I…I, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

Steve pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. "You don't have to apologize, Y/N. But you need to tell me what's going on. You've been different ever since that Hydra mission almost two months ago."

He tried to pull away from her, just the tiniest bit to see her face, but she clung to him vehemently, nuzzling her face in his shirt. 

"I'm just scared, Steve. I'm scared of what Hydra could do; what they could have done to us," she murmured softly.

Steve stroked her back soothingly. “Doll…” 

"I'm not just worried about myself," Y/N said, pulling away from Steve's embrace. Her tear-filled eyes glistened, making his heart ache. "Everyone was hurt during those missions. Now, they're playing mind games and making threats. Who knows what they're capable of? It's just..." she trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

“Hey, hey, hey. Babydoll, look at me.” 

“Steve,” Y/N sounded, lower lip jutting out. “I’m scared that after all this, I'll lose you."

Steve's voice was gentle as he reassured her, reaching out to touch her cheek. "You won't lose me," he said. "I'll always be here for you, through the calm and the rain. We're a team, Y/N, and we stick together no matter what."

“Through the calm and the rain,” Y/N mimicked. She held him tighter, and Steve didn’t miss her shuddering breaths. 

“Steve? You okay, punk?” 

“Yeah,” Steve sighed from his place at the medical cot. He touched his jaw, his nose scrunching as he touched the multicolored bruise. “Can’t believe this marks another failure. Y/N personally collected this information on her last recon mission.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Steve. Hydra’s winning streak is going to end at some point. Didn’t you say you were switching tactics anyway?” 

Steve hummed in acknowledgment while reaching for his shirt. “Nat and I are trying to find the mole. But every time we’re close, we’re faced with an impasse.” 

Bucky squeezed Steve’s shoulder, the one that wasn’t dislocated at least, giving his friend a terse smile. “Not for long. Nat’s a mastermind at this. She’ll find the bastard, and this charade will end soon enough. You’ll see.” 

Steve could only hope Bucky was right because everyone was getting restless, and they knew this was what Hydra wanted all along. The missions had become borderline brutal, and Steve had taken it upon himself to lead most of them solo—Hydra’s intent at the end wasn’t to kill any of the Avengers. At least not now. They just wanted to weaken their resolve. 

Bucky helped Steve stand up straight. His shoulders deflated when the latter stifled a wince. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Y/N?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Punk, the serum’s too busy fixing your broken rib. If you want to leave the med bay so badly, at least let me call your girlfriend to help you up,” Bucky argued with a disapproving look. Steve wanted to laugh, being reminded of his best friend’s attitude back in the forties. But his ribs were killing him at the moment, and he couldn’t say a word. 

"It's already three in the morning, and other than you and possibly Tony, who's most likely in his lab, everyone else is asleep. I don't want to disturb her sleep."

“She’ll wake up when you walk inside your room, either way. Y/N’s been worried about you all week. I don't want to be on the receiving end of her disappointment when she realizes I knew you were hurt and didn't tell her."

“Buck.” By now, the two super soldiers were nearing the elevator. Steve’s twisted knee made it hard for them to get there faster. “I’m going to sleep in Y/N’s old room. When morning comes, the serum would have healed most, if not all, of my wounds. There's no need to worry her for nothing.”

He could tell Bucky didn’t approve of his choice, but his mind was already made. By the time Steve reached Y/N’s old room, exhaustion had started to weigh him down, and sleep felt like the best idea in the world. 

Lucky for him, Y/N hadn’t moved out all her things when she took permanent residence in his, now their, room. She had kept a few things lying around, spare clothes and toiletries, in case someone ever needed them. 

"Do you remember when Wanda and Pietro arrived?" she asked while sorting through her clothes, pondering which ones to keep and which ones to leave behind. "They had to borrow some clothes from us until Tony could order them some. It just made me think about how nice it would be to have a comfortable space stocked with everything someone might need. Is that silly? I have a lot of things that I don't use, and I just..."

Steve got up from the bed and walked over to Y/N, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He took the clothes from her hand and helped her fold them. "There's nothing silly about wanting to create a warm and welcoming environment for someone in need," he said reassuringly. "And for the record, this makes me love you even more."

At that time, he had also pitched in, offering to contribute with some clothes and other things that he hadn't yet touched. So, he entered the room and headed towards the closet, grabbing a pair of jogging pants and a loose shirt. Steve moved to the ensuite and carefully placed his clothes on one of the cabinets by the sink. He then crouched down to take the towels out of the basket, his mind already turning to thoughts of the long shower he was going to enjoy. But as he rummaged through the pile, a manila folder suddenly slipped out from inside the longer towel, catching his attention.

Steve eyed the folder curiously, bending down to pick it up. Why would Y/N store a folder in the bathroom out of all places? He really wanted to dismiss the thought, but the fact that the folder was hidden inside the towels made him question the situation even more. 

Curiously, he opened the folder. He had barely laid eyes on the content before he blanched. This was the folder Sharon had delivered him weeks ago. A copy of it, at least. But this couldn’t be possible. Y/N would never steal from his office; she didn’t have the need to infiltrate it or sneak files or data. Everything of his is hers to have. So, why did she possess a monochrome copy of the latest Hydra schematics Sharon had sent him with the notes and strategies he had inscribed out and marked with his ballpen?

As Steve's eyes scanned the pages, his mind raced with questions and doubts. Was Y/N involved with Hydra? Had she been spying on him all along? He couldn't believe it. He knew her too well. But the evidence was right in front of him, and he couldn't ignore it.

He sat down on the marble tiles, his world spinning as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Maybe there was some explanation for all of this, some reason why Y/N had this file. 

The original was kept under lock and key in his office. Now that he thought of it, even Y/N didn’t have a key to that specific drawer. So how could she get it? Steve's mind raced as he held the folder in his hands, wondering how Y/N managed to get her hands on it.

Every word felt like a punch to the gut, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that Hydra was always two steps ahead of them. Steve remembered how nervous Y/N had been lately, especially after the security breach that proved to be a warning than an actual attack. 

The truth was that Y/N walked unharmed from every mission, yet she was the one who was the most nervous out of the team, particularly every time Hydra's informant was mentioned. And now that Steve thought about it, he could see Y/N’s eyes following his movements as he stored the file in his drawer and placed the key in the pocket of his pants, the same pants she took off when they went to their room afterward. 

Steve's mind raced as he recalled all the little details he had overlooked in the past two months. He remembered how Y/N had seemed lost in thought and jumpy, and how she had been the only one out of the compound during the security breach, even though she didn't have any mission.

Steve's hand tightened on the sink as he stood up, refusing to believe what the folder in his hand was suggesting. "No," he muttered to himself. "Y/N wouldn't do it. There has to be an explanation."

With the folder still clutched tightly in his hand, Steve rushed out of the room, his bruises forgotten in his determination to find out the truth. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he ran through the empty hallways, his mind racing with the need to prove that Y/N couldn't possibly be a Hydra agent.

He furiously clicked the elevator buttons again and again when it refused to get to his level fast enough, thinking, who the fuck would be up and about late at night and taking a trip using the elevators? When it took a second too long for it to reach his floor, Steve bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. 

Though fueled by adrenaline and urgency, his footsteps were light—shoes barely leaving a trail of noise despite every rushed step he took. He was almost at Y/N's door, two steps separating him from finding his answers. And when Steve's hands came in contact with the metal of the doorknob, Y/N's disapproving voice filtered through his ears.

“Are you kidding me?” she whisper-yelled. For a second, Steve thought she was addressing him, but she couldn't have known he was there. He pressed his ear against the door and made out Y/N's voice. She was up, and her shoes were squeaking against the parquet. "Watch your mouth when you talk to me," she spoke again, anger in her tone. "And keep Steve out of this."

Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he strained his ears to listen. Who was Y/N speaking to in the dead of night? He couldn't hear any other voice, despite his efforts to focus and pick up on any additional sounds. His breathing became labored as he desperately tried to discern any other heartbeat or whisper, but all he could hear was Y/N's voice echoing through their room.

“Nobody knows. You think I'm stupid enough to let anyone find out that I’m associated with you in any way, shape, or form?” Y/N's voice was tense, and Steve could tell that she was probably on the phone with someone. “You won’t ruin the trust I’ve built with the Avengers. I don’t know what game you're playing, but… no, Brock! I'm not finished yet!”

The manila folder slipped from Steve's hand, the sound of it hitting the ground barely audible. His heart, on the other hand, crashed to the floor with a resounding thud. Steve stepped back, putting as much space as he could between himself and the door, unwilling to listen to another word from Y/N.

It couldn't be true. Y/N couldn't be talking to Brock Rumlow of all people. He would have known, wouldn't he? Y/N was never discreet with her phone, and he would have noticed any strange behavior.

Steve’s eyes caught the papers that fell out of the folder. The strategies and outlines he considered, the plans he had made, and the ideas he had offered. They mocked him and his blind trust in Y/N. And that phone call was the cherry on top of the cake. 

The sharp edges of his broken heart stabbed at his soul. Steve gritted his teeth and straightened up. He had missed a good chunk of the conversation, but Y/N was still talking, though mindful of her tone. 

He could hear her pacing and then stopping in her tracks to drum her fingers against the table or the wall. Steve prayed that there would be an explanation, that there was a story there, something that would help explain why Y/N would be talking to Brock. But he wasn’t prepared to hear it. 

"You can try to ruin my reputation with the Avengers, but it won't work. We'll meet under my conditions. In five hours, at the alley near Café Epoque. No SHIELD or Hydra. Don’t worry about Steve, he’s on a mission. That's all I'll say. Now leave me be."

Y/N hung up and, most probably, flung the phone on the bed. Steve heard the soft thud followed by Y/N’s harsh breathing. She was pacing the room, mumbling words that were too fast to understand. Then, he heard her halt her pacing. She shuffled close to the door, her heartbeats clearer now. And when she opened the door and walked out, Steve was already halfway across the stairs, thinking about what the hell he was going to do.

As a spy, Y/N had a talent for deception. Earlier that morning, when Sam caught her wearing tights and a hoodie, she smoothly claimed that she was heading out for a run. When he questioned why she hadn't joined him, she had a quick retort ready, saying that she wasn't crazy enough to wake up at five in the morning like he did.

Sam had laughed it off, wishing her a good time. And she wasted not a second longer before rushing out of the compound. She took the usual path Bucky, Sam, and Steve took when they were out running. So if someone deemed her actions suspicious, the security cameras would confirm her going out on a run.

Extreme? Maybe. But the last thing she wanted was to let anyone know that she was meeting Brock. Speaking of the devil, his silhouette lingered by the alley, urging Y/N to step closer. Her stomach churned with every step she took closer. Yet she squared her shoulders and never stopped walking, determined to hide the anxiety slithering through her body. 

“What do you want?” Y/N cut to the chase, enunciating every word. She crept closer to Brock, thinking he might retreat further back into the shadows. Much to her disappointment, he didn’t.

"Well, well, Bambi, aren't you a ray of sunshine," Brock taunted, noticing the flicker of displeasure in Y/N's eyes. "I've been curious about your well-being."

“What do you want?” 

“Ah, I'm relieved to hear that you're doing fine. As I am, in case you were wondering.” 

"I wasn't," she snapped, her patience wearing thin. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to contain her frustration. "Don't push me to ask for the third time, Brock. Just answer the damn question."

“I just wanted to see how my favorite person in the world was doing.” He outstretched his hand, reaching toward Y/N’s hair. She quickly caught his wrist, using her thumb to put pressure on his pulse point. 

“Hate to burst your bubble, but if you called me here expecting a glimpse of your own glorious self through my eyes, I'm afraid I've always considered you a lost cause. And that was before your face decided to experiment with the art of spontaneous combustion.”

“Lost cause, eh?” Brock smirked, adding to Y/N’s irritation. “That’s not a nice word to describe your brother. Let alone your big brother, Bambi.” 

Despite her composed demeanor, Y/N's fingers subtly twitched at her sides, a telltale sign of her building tension. She averted her gaze, the sight of her brother churning her insides. Her eyes wandered, scanning the narrow confines of the alleyway as if searching for solace in the surrounding walls. Brock’s words lingered in the air, a painful reminder of the blood ties that bound them together. A reminder she despised.

“Stop comparing me to a fawn.” 

“Hmm, maybe I should. You did stop being the prey a long time ago.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Ask Rogers. You’ll know then.” Y/N was quite grateful that she was not endowed with superhuman strength because the grinding of her teeth and tightness of her jaw could have caused quite the collateral damage. Her brother, a term she hated to use when describing the unhinged being facing her, did not seem to care as he continued with his monologue. “When you first wanted to be a spy, I had my doubts. And I do admit that I never believed in your abilities. At least, not until you managed to hide your true identity from your own boyfriend.”

“In case it skipped your notice, Brock. I never asked for your shitty seal of approval.” 

“Language, Y/N. Jesus, I thought being with Captain Righteous might straighten you up a little, but I guess I was wrong.” 

“Rumlow…”

“Right back at you, sis,” he chuckled. Callously on top of it all. 

In times like this, I wish I had Wanda’s powers, Y/N thought. “If you’ve called me at three in the goddamn morning to waste my time, then congratulations, Brock. Mission accomplished.” 

“With your assistance, they all are,” Brock smirked. “Contrary to what you may think, I don’t have an ulterior motive. You’ve been less reachable lately, understandable with the mission you have—”

“You haven’t reached out to me in years!” Y/N countered. 

It might’ve been a trick of the light, but there was a noticeable moment of hesitation in Brock's demeanor. “Not directly, no. You know I can’t do that.” 

“You send subliminal messages instead.” 

“I’ve always had a flair for the dramatics.”

“If you’re waiting for me to deny it, I won’t.” 

Brock's head shook in a subtle motion. Y/N's senses heightened as she observed his hand inching closer to her side, prepared to react swiftly if necessary. But instead of a threatening gesture, his hand landed softly on her shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze. “You know what else I have a flair for? Caring for my little sister. I know the pressure Hydra is putting on both of us is massive, but you’ve been doing better than expected. I’m proud of you. Wouldn’t you agree, Captain?” 

Captain? Y/N's face scrunched up in perplexity. Brock had lost it. Not only did that explosion scorch his face and erase half his features, but it must have taken his entire, and relatively small, brain with it. 

"I don't know what kind of twisted game you're playing, Brock. But I warn you, if you don't put an end to this nonsense immediately, I won't hesitate to involve the Avengers."

The uninterested look Brock gave her made Y/N feel uneasy. He withdrew his hand from her shoulder in a slow and deliberate manner. Malice fed the hunger in his eyes the more he kept them on her. “Haven’t you done it already? Why else would your boyfriend be standing behind us?” 

In hindsight, Y/N shouldn't have turned around. Not without calculating her next steps. It’s not that Brock wasn’t right—Steve was indeed standing behind her with features that exuded both sharpness and menace. But Y/N should’ve been smarter. She should’ve known that Brock had been tugging on her hands, forcing her to dig her own grave. 

“Steve?” she squeaked. The super soldier didn’t twitch at the sound even though she knew he picked it up. He remained unmoving, like a tree defying the violent storm, gaze flickering between her and Brock.  

“If you want me to stop treating you like a fawn, then you should stop clinging to that part. You’re right. It doesn’t suit you.” Briefly tearing her eyes away from Steve, Y/N leveled Brock with a nasty glare. And as ironic as it was, her brother’s deformed face held far more emotions than Steve’s maskless one. “You said your boyfriend was on a mission. I didn’t realize I am the mission.” 

“Don’t overestimate your own importance,” Steve finally spoke. His voice carried a menacing undertone akin to a sudden thrust of an unseen knife. The words settled deep within Y/N's bones, leaving a chilling resonance.

“Just as you overestimated my sister’s? That’s right, Cap. Y/N is my sister. But I imagine this revelation isn’t the most shocking information you've learned about her, is it?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Brock?” 

Irritation was quickly thrown out the window in favor of confusion. What the hell was Brock saying? And why was he so composed despite Steve’s looming and threatening presence behind her? 

Brock was setting her up, no doubt about that. But there was something about Steve’s seething character and Brock’s Machiavellian attitude that made the sirens in her head blare. 

Revelation, he had said, on top of pointing out that she was more prey than victim. He didn’t flinch at the sight of Steve, more like welcomed it with open arms. Her mind was racing to find out what he was planning, knowing well that he wanted to drive a wedge between her and Steve. But could being a Rumlow warrant such a treatment? 

Brock pursed his lip as the malicious glint in his eyes intensified. “Drop the act, Bambi,” he said. “Hydra won’t be too pleased with you choosing me as your sacrificial lamb.” 

A surge of anger engulfed Y/N, her frustration boiling over. How could she have been so blind? She turned her back on Brock, fixating her gaze on Steve. At that moment, all her SHIELD training felt futile, discarded in the depths of the alley, as she recklessly diverted her attention away from Brock.

"Steve, please," she pleaded, desperation lacing her voice. "I don't know what brought you here, but you have to believe me. I have no connection to Hydra. I'm not the spy!"

“You’re a Rumlow,” Steve spat, tearing her apart with three words just as he had always built her up with three.

Y/N’s lips trembled, shaking from the cold realization that Steve did not believe her. “I—I’m not. If being a Rumlow means the same as being treacherous and conniving, then I’m not. You know me.” 

“Does he?” 

“Stop talking, Brock!” Y/N shouted, closing her eyes in annoyance. Brock didn’t relent. 

“I'm just offering my observation, sis. Isn't that what you do to add some excitement?”

“Enough.” Steve’s voice came out low, composed, and measured. Yet every hair on Y/N’s skin stood up. The roots he seemed to have planted in place disappeared, and it took him four steps to reach Y/N’s side. “No more talking.” 

Y/N ached to erase the heaviness that laced his words. Those words that were once so calm and gentle, whispered to her before Steve showed her the magnitude of his love and desire, were now an erratic hurricane that swept her off her feet for all the wrong reasons. 

“Steve…” She tried to defend himself, but the green in his eyes was so scarce. It gave her a silent indication that words were truly unwelcome. 

“I don’t trust you, Rumlow.” It burned. “I don’t believe you.” It hurt. “And I may be out of time, but I’m not out of my mind to desperately latch on to any word that comes out of your treacherous mouth.” It scarred. 

Steve’s gaze tormented Y/N. She screamed silently, letting him know that he was making a mistake. She could never be the traitor in their ranks. She would never betray her family—him. But despite his guarded eyes consuming hers, disbelief defiantly lined his irises. 

His fingers wrapped around Y/N’s wrists, causing her to gasp. With a quick tug, he yanked her protectively behind his solid frame. And to her utter disbelief, he threw himself at her brother. 

Brock's belated realization of Steve's assault came crashing down as he collided with the ground, the impact echoing loudly. Steve seized him by the collar, jaw clenched with determination, as he prepared to deliver another blow. Yet, just as he readied his fist, a sharp sound resonated around the alley. Steve’s hand instinctively reached for his wounded shoulder where a bullet had found its mark.

"Steve!" Y/N's voice trembled with panic. In an instant, Steve grabbed her waist, forcefully pinning her against the wall as a barrage of bullets cascaded around them. Brock saw his opportunity amidst the chaos and attempted to flee, but Steve and Y/N were determined not to let him escape. "Natasha?" Y/N urgently called out, activating her Stark watch.

“In pursuit of the Hydra agent.” Natasha’s voice came through. 

Y/N gently pushed against Steve, but he quickly caught on to her intentions. "I'll go after him," he asserted, gripping her hand firmly. She shook her head, her gaze fixed on his injured shoulder. "You're not the only one who called for backup. Bucky is on his trail too."

Y/N hesitantly nodded, understanding the double meaning behind his sentence. She placed her right palm over his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll help, Nat. Not up for debate.” 

Steve relented, and with that, the both of them dispersed. Through her Stark watch, Y/N managed to pin Nat’s exact location. She was moving fast, from one rooftop to another. 

Trusting that Steve and Bucky had her brother covered, Y/N pulled out the concealed gun and sprinted through the streets. The enemy agent must have taken a different route, as Y/N could see her adversary land on the ground right in front of her and recover within seconds. 

Y/N's instincts kicked in, and she swiftly raised her gun, taking aim at the fire hydrant mere steps away from the agent. With a well-aimed shot, she punctured the hydrant, causing a forceful jet of water to erupt toward the agent. The unexpected deluge forced the agent to jump back, momentarily disoriented by the sudden surge of water.

Natasha swiftly comprehended the situation, sprinting across the street to close the distance, while Y/N made a split-second decision to alter her path and intercept the Hydra agent head-on. The sound of Natasha's exertion echoed in Y/N's ears, intensifying the urgency to pick up the pace. Despite Natasha's inherent speed advantage, the task of incapacitating the agile agent proved challenging, as if their adversary had an uncanny ability to anticipate every move.

In a blur, Natasha shattered a storefront window with a gunshot, causing shards of glass to spray near the agent's face, driving them closer to Y/N. She reacted quickly, delivering a swift kick to their face. Their hood fell off, revealing wisps of blonde hair. She didn't have time to look at their face as she was determined to disarm them.

With a growl, Y/N rushed to deliver a blow to the agent’s ribs. She ducked as the woman brought her fist to her face, using the momentum in her favor to hook her ankle around the woman’s own and drive her to the ground. 

As the woman looked at her with a glare, Y/N’s eyes widened. “Sharon?” she whispered in disbelief, and even Natasha, who still hadn’t seen Sharon’s face, bristled. 

Too stunned by the reveal, both Avengers weren't quick enough to intercept Sharon's next moves. She swung her leg to kick Y/N hard across her stomach. Still on the ground, she repositioned her body enough to throw a metal ball at Natasha. It beeped fast, faster than anyone could have anticipated, before dark smoke erupted from it, trapping Natasha in a mirage of darkness. 

“It would’ve been so much easier if he didn’t love you,” Sharon’s voice resonated. From the corner of her bloodshot eyes, Y/N could see her reaching for the gun. Y/N stood up on shaky legs and roared, bulldozing her way into Sharon and knocking her to the ground. 

In the midst of the fierce struggle, knees collided with noses and limbs grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand. The scuffle caused Sharon's gun to be flung out of reach, lost somewhere in the chaotic fray. With a flicker of determination in her eyes, Sharon's gaze darted between Y/N and her immediate surroundings, desperately seeking a potential weapon. And there it was.

Y/N's knife loomed just out of her reach, poking out of a hidden pocket. But before she could grasp it, Sharon's hand darted toward the hilt. With a forceful push, Y/N was knocked down, and the gleaming blade was poised, ready to deliver a lethal strike. 

In that perilous moment, a large hand closed around the knife's metal, halting its deadly trajectory. Blood trickled down Y/N's face, eliciting a gasp of disbelief, but Sharon seemed to bear the brunt of the shock. Gripped by fear, the knife slipped from her grasp. The next instant, Sharon was sent hurtling backward, colliding with the unyielding embrace of Bucky's metal arm. 

Y/N's eyes flickered upward, her mouth agape in astonishment. "Steve?" she stammered, caught between shock and relief.

“Wrapping your hand around the metal of a knife is the opposite of being careful, Steve!” Y/N chastised. Now in the med bay, she was disinfecting Steve’s wound, about to wrap a bandage around it. 

The fight was over and done with after Bucky caught Sharon. She was now being interrogated by Tony and Secretary Ross while Brock was on his merry way to the Raft. 

Y/N, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky were all required to sit in for questioning. It was protocol after what happened, especially given the new information about Y/N’s identity. But Natasha was disoriented from whatever chemical Hydra had developed, and Bucky looked one more word away from reverting to Winter Soldier mode—his worry over Natasha’s well-being overpowering his sense of self-preservation. Not to mention that Steve was bleeding and Y/N was covered in bruises and blood. 

In due time, they made their way to the med bay, reaching a mutual understanding that they would share their accounts and perspectives later.

"What? Were you hoping for that knife to find its place on your collarbone, Y/N? If that's what you desired, you should have mentioned it earlier, and I would have arranged a more suitable scenario."

If his smirk was any indicator, it was clear that he was joking. But even his lighthearted smile didn’t ease the worry on Y/N’s face. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, wrapping the bandage nice and easy. “It was bad enough that a bullet found its target in your shoulder.” 

“I’m a super soldier. I’ll heal by tomorrow. But if that knife came closer to your body—”

“I know,” Y/N sighed disgustingly. Her index finger traced the white bandages with a featherlight touch that made Steve shiver. “Did Natasha tell you I was meeting Brock?” 

Though her voice was low and gentle, it caused a spike of anxiety to travel the length of Steve’s veins. “No.” 

“Then how did you know I was meeting him?” 

“I came back at around three in the morning,” Steve admitted. He caught the sight of the dark veins under Y/N’s eyes, immediately smoothing them with his thumbs. “I didn’t want to wake you up—I may have been injured on that mission. I went to your old room, Y/N. And while I was there, I found a copy of a Hydra mission file I was working on.” 

“In my old room?�� 

“In the bathroom of your old room. An odd place to store files, if you ask anybody. Which is why I was shocked when I found the copy. And then, I remembered that you were the only one who was out when Hydra had overridden FRIDAY. And you were the only one of us who barely sustained a scratch on our missions. You were always so anxious at the sheer mention of the double agent, and I…”

“I can’t believe it,” Y/N muttered under her breath. She couldn’t believe the lengths her brother and Sharon went to go frame her. It disgusted her more that she was too busy wallowing in her anxiety to pick up on their actions. 

“I didn’t believe it.” Steve’s hands found their place on her waist and pulled her closer. She could see the tranquil shade of green nestled in his irises, urging her to listen to him and breathe. “I didn’t, Y/N. I know you. I trust you. I went to our room to talk to you, but I heard you on the phone with Rumlow. I froze in place. And before I knew it, I ran back to your old room. It took me a solid ten minutes to gather my thoughts, and by the time I did, I found you talking with Nat.” 

His words were sincere, but there was more than just comfort in his every syllable. They carried a hint of disappointment, a tinge of hurt. And as he whispered the last sentence, Steve's pain was evident.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Y/N whispered. 

Steve gave her a considerate smile. “Even if I were, I have a feeling you wouldn’t have told me.” 

“I wouldn’t have known how,” she confessed with sadness in her pupils. “I knew Brock was up to something, and believe me, I didn’t want to tell Nat everything. But… she understands what it's like being judged for something that’s completely out of your hands. The words, the truth, it all spilled out.” 

"I understand, babydoll. I understand," Steve reassured, the endearing nickname washing over Y/N, bringing a sense of ease. Y/N gently cupped Steve's cheek, allowing their noses to brush against each other.

“What happened then?” she continued to whisper, and Steve found comfort in the calmness of her voice.

“It was clear Natasha wasn’t going to involve anyone else. But I wasn’t going to stand idly while you two dealt with whatever Rumlow had planned. I went to Bucky. And as soon as he knew Natasha was tagging along—”

“He didn’t waste time asking any more questions.” A pause followed Y/N’s statement. She kept her eyes on Steve, her hand absentmindedly running up and down his thigh while his uninjured one kneaded her back. Luckily, she and Bucky sustained no more than a few bruises. It was only Natasha and Steve who were moderately injured. 

Steve’s voice interrupted the silence. “What are you thinking?” 

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, thinking hard. “Did you hate me? The moment you found out I was Brock’s sister?” 

“Never.” Y/N sighed in relief. “I was shocked beyond words. But I understood. I did. We’re more than the names we inherit and the roles we shoulder. I wasn’t going to hate you for something you so clearly despised yourself. If anything, I loved you all the more for your choices.” 

“You loved that I lied?” 

Steve laughed. “I loved how you embraced your mother's surname, showing that you didn't rely on your brother's influence to succeed in SHIELD. I loved your unwavering loyalty to your team, to me, despite sharing blood with Rumlow. But most of all, I loved your instinct to involve someone, even if it wasn't me, the moment you sensed trouble."

“I was going to tell you,” Y/N assured. “One day, I was going to tell you everything. I was just scared.” 

“Then don’t be,” Steve said. His fingers laced through Y/N’s locks, tenderly stroking the back of her head. “I love you, Y/N. I trust you. No matter the fears you have, share them with me. I’ll never run just because you have something to say that I might not like. I’m always with you.” 

Love blossomed within Y/N's heart, its warmth spreading across her face in a radiant smile. Her eyes shimmered with unwavering devotion as she whispered, "Through the calm and the rain?" In response, Steve's lips seamlessly melded with hers, a gentle dance that spoke volumes of their affection and tenderness. Their embrace was a testament to the deep bond they shared, a connection that could weather any tempest that came their way.

At last, Steve pulled away. His silence was a soothing reminder of the peace that could never be snatched away from either of them no matter the circumstances. With one deep sigh, he whispered, “Through the calm and the rain, my Y/N.” 

And so it was, amidst the serenity and the downpour, that Y/N and Steve stood firm, their love resolute and unyielding. They were intertwined, like ancient oaks with roots that ran deep, unshakable in their commitment to one another.

So excited to announce that I will now be writing for Steve Rogers too! I know this is a long one, but I couldn't help myself. Hope you liked it!

Don't forget to send in your Marvel/Harry Potter requests!

Can't wait to share more!!

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis and the two sides of his personality in a picture -- the hot guy riding a Harley-Davidson bike and the tender young man holding a baby. Could he be anymore appealing to females? Oh, right... he was also a musician, a singer, with a wonderful personality to go with it... Funny, humble, attentive, affectionate, charming, gentle, sexy, generous, smart... the list goes on and on. His only fault was being just one. Sorry, I am overwhelmed and I had to put it out... this picture is just too meaningful. Like they say, "Elvis had everything".

The info on the pictures is below.

Memphis, Tennessee: Elvis with fans on his 1957 Harley-Davidson FLH Hydra-Glide which he bought in Memphis on November 1, 1956. Read more about this motorcycle of the King of Rock and Roll in scottymoore.net: 1957 Harley-Davidson FLH Hyrda-Glide.

[fablegaze]

Spectember day 17 - evolutionary history of dragons

yet again reusing old art because i am still too tired to draw new stuff

all modern dragons are descended from a hexapodal ancestor; the salamander

(all further drawings show the nostrils on the head which was a mistake oops. they're not supposed to be on the head but i also haven't decided where they should be yet)

dragons have split into a multitude of clades, and I'm focusing on wyverns (flying dragons) & drakes (bipedal, arboreal dragons), but there are also lindwyrms (long, serpentine dragons), hydras (dragons that have turned a variety of limbs into false heads), and sea serpents (aquatic dragons)

wyverns started out small, gliding from treetop to treetop with a membrane that stretched between their limbs and tail. somewhere along the line, they started evolving powered flight, and the two outer fingers on their middle legs grew to accommodate this

eventually this grew into the fully fledged wings that wyverns have today. sapient wyverns have, on average, a wingspan of about 15ft (4.5m). larger wyverns do exist, but the vast majority of them are smaller than this

the history of drakes is a lot simpler than wyverns: they learned to climb trees. they're like the monkeys of the dragon world, helped along by thumbs on every foot & a prehensile tail

they love to scamper and scurry and scuttle

[imawreck]

Pulling Teeth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Snow helps interrogate Strucker for information.

Warnings: Gore and bodily injury, threats and interrogation, brief suicide attempt (by the bad guy)

Word Count: 2,565

Snow-

I followed Tony down several corridors before we came upon two doors at the end of a grey hallway. Everything was quiet aside from the echoing footfalls of Tony and myself, and the soft thumping of the guards' hearts down the way. I had an inkling that the four of us weren't the only ones down here, figuring that the rooms beyond the two doors were soundproofed for security reasons.

My palms began to sweat as Tony reached one of the doors, the one on the left, and paused a moment to turn around and face me. His features were grim, his lips pulled tight into a thin line and a worried wrinkle grew between his brows. "I know this isn't easy, but we need this. I'm going to talk to the agents inside the viewing window. Strucker is right behind that door, " He loosely gestured to the door to our right, "and you can go in whenever you're ready."

I nodded, waiting until he had shut the door behind himself before I let out the breath I held in. The guards eyed me warily, but I ignored them in order to delay the nerves building up in my gut. Strucker was one of the sole reasons for all of my problems, which left me with the heavy hatred that had accumulated over the years of my torturous time in Hydra. My goal was to get the information Tony needed and leave. Whatever jabs or prodding Strucker tried had to be endured for the information. I could do it, surely. I'd handled worse, right?

I rolled my shoulders, stepping over to the door and staring hard at the cold metal. With one more deep breath, I steeled myself and entered the room.

_____

Bucky-

I had Friday take me down to the interrogation room shortly after Tony and Snow had left the lab. I had thought about how Strucker had influenced my past and figured hers was just as bad, if not worse, and she shouldn't have to face him alone. She needed someone to be there to support her.

I wandered down the hallway until I couldn't go any further, staring at the two guards positioned just outside two doors. They eyed me stonily, one of them opening his mouth to speak, "We can't allow you beyond these doors. There's an interrogation in progress."

I mentally rolled my eyes, "I need to speak with Stark."

The one who spoke pinned me with his stare once more, his mouth pulling to one side in an annoyed look before nodding to the other guard. He opened the door behind him and called out to Tony. Tony's dark hair peaked out from behind the door and peered over at me. "What do you want, Barnes?"

"I want to watch the interrogation."

He seemed to be running low on energy, and lacked a sarcastic response to my demanding tone. Instead, he simply sighed and yanked the door open wider, jerking his head sideways to motion me inside. "Keep quiet."

I hardly managed to squeeze through the door frame before Tony shut the door, gliding back over to the empty chair across the small space. Two other men, the Feds, sat in the other two chairs positioned in the center of the room. I made myself comfortable leaning against the far wall, behind the chairs the men sat in, and laid my eyes on the glass spanning across the opposite wall.

Strucker sat with his hand clasped together facing the one way mirror with a smile plastered across his vile face. His eyes were glued to the door, or what I assumed was the door, watching Snow from an angle we couldn't see. "Hello, my dear. It really is lovely to see you again." I could tell by the way his skin glistened and he pushed the lump down his throat that the words weren't completely true, but he held steady in his seat. "I wanted to have some time with you before-"

"Shut up." There was venom laced with her words as they echoed off the walls of the small room. Strucker jumped in his seat, his mouth smacking shut. Snow walked into view with her hands shoved in the pockets of the black cargo pants she wore. The grey stark industries T-shirt, courtesy of Tony, was tucked into the waistband of her pants and her features were set in a grim line. "You speak when I ask you a question."

Strucker gave her a wavering smile, "Now that's no way to-"

Her palm slammed into the steel table beside her causing Strucker to jerk away from her at the action. She pinned him with her gaze, nothing but malice in it. "Do. Not. Speak."

After a moment of just staring at him, she dragged the chair out from across from him and slumped into it. She slid down, slouching low in the chair, and draped her arms over the thin armrests almost arrogantly. "I should have slaughtered you on that battlefield for all that you have done. The only reason I haven't," She sat up and leaned her arms against the table right next to the clear indent of her palm to peer at him, "Is because I want to tear Hydra from its roots."

I couldn't see her face from where I stood, none of us could, but I swore I could hear the smile on her face.

"Tell me, Commander, where are the other heads of Hydra? Who have you deemed worthy enough to carry Hydra to greatness?" She paused a moment before leaning back in her chair. "You can refuse to tell me, but remember you gave me quite the education. I know how to get answers efficiently."

Strucker sat there with his mouth clamped shut and his face as white as a sheet. All of his boastful front shattered by the woman in front of him. "Tell me, Strucker, before I lose my patience. That would be ugly, wouldn't it?"

His throat bobbed again, and a look of anger flashed across his features. "I made you, you have no right to threaten me like this. I am part of a great power my dear, bigger than you know. Hydra will rise again, stronger than ever before, and-"

"And I'll take it out, piece by piece, one by one, starting with you. Then I'll make my way around to the others, the generals at your old meetings perhaps? I know how much you valued their loyalty to you." Snow sighed, as if bored of the whole ordeal.

The Feds in the room looked at each other before leaning over to speak with Tony, mumbling something about getting the names of the generals from her after the interrogation.

Snow continued, raising her hand and tapped her temple as she continued. "I remember their faces quite vividly you know, since your little mind washing machine doesn't work on me." Her shoulders shook as she let loose a soft chuckle that was completely void of humor. "I wonder what they'll think of you after they figure out your most prized soldier turned against Hydra. I bet they'll curse your name, maybe even wipe it from Hydra's book of heroes. I would love to see that through personally."

Commander Strucker looked like a ghost. His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head. "Y-you can't. You-"

"Tell me why I can't, Strucker." She shot forward her hand reaching out and clenching around his folded ones, keeping him in place. "I'm strong enough, stronger than any of your little experiments. I'll live longer than any of you, that's more than enough time to eliminate you all. I won't stop until I'm certain no person even thinks about Hydra again. I'll wipe it all from the face of this planet while you rot in the confines of a filthy cell." Snow released him and he yanked his hands away as far as the cuffs would allow him. "And there isn't a thing you can do about it." She rose from her seat and began towards the door.

Strucker’s face had turned red as his temper rose, every word she spoke seemed to turn it a shade darker. He visibly shook, out of anger or fear, I wasn't sure. "Oh yes I can. We might have lost you, but we haven't lost him."

My stomach plummeted. No. He had to be lying. If hydra knew my triggers surely someone would have tried something already. My mind began to spin at the thought.

Snow's reaction was as physical as my own. Her whole body stilled as she turned back to face him. From what we could see, her face was void of emotion and her eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you just say?"

Strucker laughed, loud and maniacal. "You didn't think his little book was the only thing that could keep us from getting him back did you? The board is already set, and our pieces are all ready to play, darling." His smile grew and his jaw jutted awkwardly to the side, "Hail Hydra."

What happened next was almost too hard for my own eyes to see. The steel table crashed into the side of the room and suddenly Snow was gripping the back of Strucker's neck with the other hand shoved between his jaws keeping his mouth from closing. The feds jumped from their chairs and raced to the door, but Tony stayed put watching the scene play out.

Snow's hand had began to bleed as Strucker attempted to bite through her fingers. I watched in horror as she removed her other hand from his neck, the nails on it growing in real time to fine points on the ends of her fingers. She pried his mouth open as he tried and failed to shake her grip from him. There was a distinct pop as his jaw dislocated and dropped open. Strucker cried out in pain, his scream echoing through the speakers in the room with us. She reached into his mouth, gently removing something with her nails before releasing her hold on him.

Between her bloodied fingers was a small white object I immediately recognized as a cyanide tooth the higher ups in Hydra would have implanted. She had stopped him from a quick relief, one that he didn't deserve. The Commander continued to groan in pain and shake in his chair. The two Feds had burst in while she was extracting the tooth and froze as she held it between her claws. Literal claws.

I was almost as alarmed as they were. Snow took one look at the two men and tossed the tooth at them. The one who caught it juggled it for a moment before finally enclosing it in his fist. She shoved past the two and out of the room.

I stared at the limp form of Strucker for a moment, both shaken and satisfied with what had just happened, before I glanced at Tony who still remained in his chair. His face had remained grim from the moment I walked in as he watched the scene play out before him.

When he stood minutes later, he looked at me for what seemed like eternity. "We have a lot of planning ahead of us. If anything he said is true, something big is coming and we have to be prepared for it." He let out a long sigh and dropped his head to the ground. For a moment, he looked a lot older than he was. "I'm calling a meeting with the Avengers as soon as I finish talking with the Feds. Give the others a heads up please. And Bucky," he raised his head to meet my eyes, "make sure she's alright. She was nervous about coming here."

I nodded immediately, my mind buzzing with this new information and the possibility of more than one person in hydra knowing my triggers. For the most part though, I was worried about Snow. She had acted so strong, unbelievably so, but by the way Tony had mentioned checking on her made me think I didn't know how soft she really was. She had always acted so strong around me and in the stories Steve had told me about her missions that I hadn't stopped to consider that she might be suffering a lot more than I had been lead to believe.

I left the room, nearly flattening the Feds on the way out. Their startled eyes looked up at me as I moved past them. After the elevator door chimed before it shut, I called out to Friday. "Please notify the Avengers that Tony is going to call a meeting soon."

"Of course, Sergeant Barnes."

I clenched and unclenched my fists to keep my nerves at bay as the elevator rode up. Everything had changed in such a short amount of time. We were certain that Hydra was more manageable now that we had taken out most of their heads, but now I wasn't so sure. Especially with the way Snow mentioned the other generals. I had never been to a circle meeting. I was given orders and did as I was told. She had an in that could save us if those generals were still involved in any way.

The doors to the commons area opened and I stepped out to see Steve sitting with some of the others on the sofas. Nat, Wanda, Banner, Clint, and Vision even sat with him all around the glass coffee table. They all wore similar expressions of worry, their brows furrowed and some of them fidgeting in their seats. It was a sight, the worlds heros were almost as nervous as a kid sitting in principals office.

"Hey Buck, what's going on?" Steve sat with his hands clasped in his lap, leaning his elbows on his knees. His eyes searched my face as he asked, more than likely gathering it wasn't excellent news from my expression.

I slowly sat next to him, unsure how to break it to the others that there may be a new Hydra threat to the world. That I might be part of it, unwillingly. I bit my lip, "Tony will be here soon to explain things more, but it isn't looking good." I couldn't bring myself to say anything more about it, far too occupied by the ravenous thoughts threatening to consume me. I took one more look around the couches before I suddenly realized someone was missing. "Where's Snow?"

Nat was the one to answer, "She said she was going to get some air. She didn't look too good. I think she was on her way up to our floor."

It made sense, she did just face someone she probably hoped was dead by now. It wasn't an easy thing and definately mentally draining.

We all sat in silence for a long while. I wasn't sure if anyone was keeping track of the time, probably just as worried as I was. We seemed to sit for hours before the elevator broke the ice, causing us all to jump. Tony walked in with his head down and his brow furrowed.

"Hey guys, this..." He paused, pondering for a minute. When he looked back up again, his expression was one of mild acceptance and extreme exasperation. "Shit is really hitting the fan."

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