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8bitscarlet · 3 years

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Witchcraft

Summary: You've found yourself falling deeper into a certain witch's spell. But no matter how strong the magic is, it seems that the two of you just keep missing each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (minor cussing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a fic for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest writing exchange. This one is for @mrsromanoff and the prompt: "I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you." Hope you like it!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours.*

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You never thought your three month assignment with the Avengers would've extended as long as it has. Missions went by with minimal injuries and maximum wins. You found yourself settling well into the chaos of the compound; the echoing boasts of Thor, the competitive edge of Danvers and the snark between Romanoff and Stark. When your three months were up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone that you immediately signed the contract from Stark, an official placement on the team.

Despite all of the alien blasters, Hydra experiments and Tony's benefit parties, nothing could've prepared you for a single person to rock your world. It started innocently enough; stolen glances at meals and ensuring you two were on the same mission team. As time continued, things turned less innocent; sneaking off during charity balls to suck face in the broom closet, you could recall a few times you were nearly caught in the back of the Quinjet. There was something about this woman. The way her fingers slithered through your hair, how those green eyes made your heart say yes, she stripped you bare.

You had convinced yourself it was witchcraft. It had to be.

Sitting with your cheek pressed against your fist, you find yourself doodling as Steve drones on in the background. Someone nudges you and as you turn, Wanda raises her brows when your eyes connect. With a groan, you raise the pen in your hand. Steve notices, stopping his spiel to look at you with a clenched jaw.

"With all due respect, Cap, we all got in at four this morning. Do we need a recap of the mission right now?"

Steve sighs, glancing at everyone and seeing them agreeing with you. You all had barely had time to unpack, let alone write your after action reports.

"Alright, Y/N. We'll go over how your pants tore mid-fight on Monday."

You point your pen at him, warning him as you watch his stupid smile fill his face. Bucky slaps your shoulders in gratitude, picking up Alpine onto his shoulders as he strides out to find Sam. Wanda's fingers gently brush yours as you walk side by side, sending an electric charge through your body.

"You know, when someone says 'with all due respect,' they really mean, 'kiss my ass'." Wanda glances at you with a sly smile.

Walking backwards towards the couch, you outstretch your arms with a grin, "Because that's what I meant, darling."

Chuckling, you roll over the back of the couch and plop down onto the cushions, your head landing perfectly on a pillow. Wanda lets out a scoff, knowing how many times it's taken you to actually land on the cushion and not the floor.

Flipping through the pages of her book, you watch her through half-closed eyes. A year ago you'd be asking what she was reading. A year ago, she'd curl up with you and explain it all. A year ago, you didn't have guilt eating at you.

Things a year ago were more than good between you. There might have even been a chance beyond friends with benefits. You knew you wanted that. Every time you looked at her, you couldn't stop your pounding heart or the warmth that grew in your stomach.

But you were stupid.

Chickening out every chance you had to ask her on an actual date rather than sneaking around to make her moan. You both had set ground rules, no strings attached. If it got too messy, you both had to call it quits. So, you convinced yourself it was better to quietly love her and keep her, than to tell the truth and lose her.

That was before the year long mission with Carol and Bucky. Before you realized how big of a mistake it was two months in. Before every day texts and video chats diminished to every other week, then every other month. Before you got back to the compound and saw her kissing up on some random benefactor at the Welcome Home Party. It was definitely before she started dating that walking toaster, Vision.

Luckily, he hadn't been around much the past month so watching them kiss and stare into each other's eyes was doable, mostly because you turned whenever you saw that stupid spark plug.

Four months since coming home, you've tried to fill the void the witch had created in your body, your soul. You went out with Carol and Bucky, prowling the town and the bar. Matching shot for shot some nights, waking up in random apartments other nights. Eventually Bucky did what you never did.

He asked Sam on a date and that left you and Carol. Until she started hooking up with Maria and dragged her along so you wouldn't be hitting the bars alone. You had made yourself a pity case.

"Do you need something?" Wanda cocks a brow at you, making a face at your prolonged staring.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rush through your face, "You look a little sunburnt."

With a shrug and a chuckle, Wanda bookmarks her page as she places it down on the coffee table. Standing, she sits down on the couch, your body automatically scooting over to accommodate her. Holding out her red and glowing hand, you watch her pull off her rings, displaying the radiating tan lines running up and down her fingers. A laugh escapes you as you feel her hand slap against your chest.

"I didn't have anyone to put sunscreen on me!" She groans, "It burns!"

You guide your finger gently down her exposed arm, pressing in slightly to her warm skin. As you lift, you see the true color of her skin before it's bombarded with the glowing red of her burn. Glancing up, her green eyes watch you carefully, both of you not acknowledging the weight of her hand still on your chest.

"An aloe vera massage would do wonders," You whisper, "And I'm all out."

With a roll of her eyes, she leans back into your legs, "You really are a pain in my ass, y'know? When I tell people about you, that's the first thing I say."

Watching her float the remote to her awaiting hand, you grin, "Oho, so you're telling people about me, huh?"

"Please, check the ego there."

For the next moment, the two of you sit peacefully in each other's silence. Wanda was one who clung to those she trusted. When you came back, it was like she had superglued herself to you any time you walked into the room. It didn't help that you were still madly in love and she was taken.

Right now though, you watch her delicate fingers play with yours. Her eyes squinting with laughter as she watches her sitcoms, glancing to see if you're laughing as well.

A commercial echoes through the living room and Wanda lets out a sigh for attention, patting your thigh as she drops your hand. You don't move it as it lands atop her thigh, only gently stroke your thumb against the silky skin you wish could press against yours. Letting out a noise that you're both awake and paying attention to her, she glances over at you.

"Since you got Captain America to actually give us a free weekend, what's your plan tonight, casanova?"

You shrug, "I have early training with Bucky and-."

Wanda moves her whole body to face you, your hand slipping from her thigh as confusion spreads across her face. She lets out an unbelieving scoff,

"You're joking. You used to show up half drunk to training and still kick ass."

She's watching you carefully and you try to keep a neutral look on your face, she knows all of your quirks. Glancing up at her with a small grin, you pull your legs into you. Shifting yourself, you sit properly on the couch and run your hands through your hair.

"Just don't want to go out tonight. It's boring." You chuckle, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, "Why, no one catches your eye anymore?"

Another playful nudge and you sigh. All this playful teasing, these light touches. She has to know what she's doing.

Trying to keep a steady and nonchalant shrug, you shake your head,

"No one out there."

And you might've gotten away with it. Instead, you fell into the magnetic pull of those green eyes that cause you so much trouble. As your eyes land on hers, you can see the dilation within her pupils. Then the realization across her face. Her playful grin falls as she stares at you, blinking slowly.

"Y/N," She says slowly, "If you're doing what I think-."

You stand up quickly, your feet taking you to the other end of the coffee table. In two days you'll be gone and you'll be back in the place you hate being in right now. Placing your hands on your waist, you look up from your tapping foot.

"Wanda, I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you."

Silence meets your face. You watch her as she slowly nods at you, "That's exactly what you're doing."

Groaning, she slides her fingers through her hair, pinning it from her face. Wanda lets out a careful breath before looking up at you, "What happened to no strings?"

Slapping your hands against your thighs in frustration, you let out a scornful chuckle, "Come on, Wanda. You know those rules were bullshit! No strings means not going on exclusive trips to museums and restaurants!" You watch her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find a way to disprove what you're saying. "It means not staying up all night when the other is sick!"

Wanda stands up quickly and you can see the look on her face, she knows what you're getting to. Waving her hand to get you to shut up, she tries to get to the stairs but your words blurt from your mouth,

"It means not falling in love!"

Her feet stop carrying her towards the stairs, her body frozen in the middle of the compound. Carefully, you step towards her, leaning ever so slightly to try and catch her eyes. They're glazed over from your confession, trying to understand the implications.

"I left. I..." You suck in a shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier if I wasn't here. You were so adamant about no strings, Wands. I broke the only rule, why would I stay?"

Her head jerks back at your words, her brows furrowing deeply down her face. Without another second to keep talking, Wanda's feet pivot as she shoots a finger into your face. You jerk away from her advance, seeing the growing mist within her eyes as she shouts,

"That's why you left?"

The crack in her voice sends one through your heart.

She turns quickly, her hands violently wiping at the tears that have broken free. You clench your brows. She's angry at you? You're the one who's had to watch her prance around with Vision, you just a memory of romance. Just before she can grab her bag and leave, you call out,

"Well, you seem to have fared better than me!"

As the words leave your lips, you bite down hard and shut your eyes. A surprised choke exits Wanda's throat as she throws her purse back onto the side table, knocking over the decorative bowl of rocks. They scatter across the ground but she doesn't notice, all of her rage is pointing at you. Her fingers run violently through her auburn hair, looking like she wants to rip it out.

"You are infuriating!" She jabs a fingers at you, "Why think that?! Because I'm dating Vision? He's filling a void, dumbass!"

Her words stab into you as her stomps draw nearer, you can feel the heat of her anger. She's not done, she's not letting you off easy.

"Every time he touches me, every time he kisses me. God, Y/N! All I can see is your dumb face."

Wanda's heavy breath washes over you as she finally stops her assault, so close you can see the blue in her green eyes. Her body radiates out to you and you have to force your hands into your pocket to not grab her and kiss her. Your eyes dip to her lips but you see sadness that has quickly replaced the facade of anger. Making a small fist, she slams it into your chest as her head bows. Her arm slides down your body, hanging limply at her side as she looks to you.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

Wanda's fingers twitch forward, wanting to grab onto you. You sigh, taking your hands from your pockets and resting them on your waist. Your confession was supposed to be more romantic than this. Instead, you brought up issues you both were trying to ignore. You were angry now at yourself, taking it all out on the person you loved. You'd spent too long with all of this pent up emotion though, and it was all pouring out in waves.

"I have to finish my requisition forms. Get my gear ready."

You don't have to look up to know what face Wanda is making at you. It's the same face she had when you left the first time. The way her brows clenched together in disbelief, the pain behind her reddened eyes that threatened to spill more tears, how her chin trembled as she tried to breathe.

Her voice barely passes a whisper but standing so close, you hear every broken syllable, "You're leaving again."

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples as you feel your nose stuff up.

"You drop all of that on me and you're just going to turn around and leave?"

Shaking your head, you want this conversation to end. It's obvious where she is and it's not next to you.

"Don't you have a date or something?" You ask.

Wanda's been around you too long to not see exactly what you're doing. She lets out a chuckle, a lethal look in her eyes.

"No, you're right. And that date seems a hell of a lot better than this." Without another word, she snatches her purse from the table and starts to climb the stairs, leaving your feet frozen. Just as she reaches the middle of the staircase, she stops. You can feel her stare burning into you and as you look her way, you wish you hadn't.

"You're a coward."

Those words burn into your brain, rising through your ears and torture you for the rest of the day. The only thing you could think to do was slam your fists into the closest thing. The punching bags. People came and went, eyeing you try and punch away your frustrations to no avail. When the sun finally had sunk below the horizon, one Avenger had enough of your pity party.

"You know she's right." A voice comes from behind you.

You don't respond to them, just dodge the swaying bag. They walk into the room, stopping just inside of your peripheral.

"You're an idiot, you know."

With a chuckle, you sidestep the bag, "You need to be a little more specific."

"You're losing her again."

Another punch, "Uh huh."

Carol sighs next to you, "And you sent her away on her date."

"Yup."

She steps in front of the bag, stopping its movement and stares at you with determination in her eyes, "And you're not going after her?"

Avoiding her stare, you start to unwrap your hands, wiping at the sweat that pours down your face. Stopping, you can feel the cramp in your side and the throbbing of your knuckles. Chucking the wrap, you let out a shrug,

"Is there a point?"

Carol shoves the bag into you, grabbing your attention, "I am not going on another mission with you while you sulk. Do you know you talk in your sleep? Yeah. Guess what name I heard that whole year?"

You shake you head, licking your chapped lips as you search for water, "She didn't say it back."

You hear an exasperated chuckle from Carol, "Y'know Y/N, I'm going to go on a limb and say she wasn't expecting all of that to be thrown in her face."

Shooting her a glare, she keeps talking, "I'm saying this once. If you think this is going to be some cheesy Rom-Com where she bursts through those doors and confesses her love, you're more of an idiot than I thought." A finger jabs hard into your chest as you grimace, "You need to fix this."

Carol leaves you there with your head filled with more thoughts than before. Wanda was happy with Vision wasn't she? She hadn't talked about him much but you knew she had to be. Who were you to go and screw that up?

Night turned into morning and after staring up at your ceiling, you knew you weren't getting any sleep.

Sneaking down the stairs, you see everyone is still asleep. You take the opportunity to sit in more silence and wait for the coffee machine to finish steaming. The sun was just beginning to shine its red hues into the kitchen as you stood at the counter, twirling your empty mug. Lost in thought, you failed to hear the padding of feet coming down the stairs.

"I thought you had early training."

With a quiet chuckle, you lean into the counter, "You caught me."

In silence, you watch the witch pour in her coffee. The same amount of creamer and sugar every time, the same motions every morning since you've noticed her. Turning, she sees your mindless fingers twisting and turning your empty mug. Wanda raises her brows and holds out her hand,

"Refill?"

You hand over the mug and watch her work her magic on the black liquid, turning it into the caramel drink you love. Breathing in deeply, you watch the bubbles swirl around the liquid. You furrow your brows,

"I can never make mine taste-."

"We broke up."

Her words slam into you, your breath catching inside of your throat. Looking up, Wanda stands there in the middle of the kitchen, unsure if she had truly spoken or not. She looks up at you, her mouth closing as she realizes she doesn't know what she's doing.

"What? Wands, are you okay?" You start to stand to go and comfort her, you know they had a date yesterday. Did the son of a microwave hurt her?

Wanda's hand rises, stopping you in your tracks before she takes a quiet breath, "We broke up almost a month ago, Y/N."

Nodding at your obliviousness, you knock your knuckles against the counter as you press your lips into a thin line, "We're both liars then."

"Tell me you lied about the mission," She whispers, leaning into the counter. Her fingers laying gently across yours.

Your chest constricts as you sigh, "I didn't."

You watch her sullen nod, curling hair falling out of her messy bun as you gently graze your thumb across her knuckles. She quietly chuckles,

"We just missed each other."

Stopping your thumb, you clench your jaw. This isn't going to happen again.

"Wanda," You whisper, listening to the sad hum she gives you as she glances up with bloodshot eyes, "I'm sorry. I was scared and... I was an idiot."

Wanda pats your hand with a loud sniff, "I appreciate it, but-."

She doesn't continue. She doesn't want to believe that you're leaving. The love you feel wouldn't be strong enough to survive that time apart again. There's broken support beams and one thing will send it falling down. A far away mission isn't the nurturing this budding feeling needs.

Wanda tries her best to flash you a grin, "Let me teach you how to make coffee."

Before she can turn, you grab her hand quickly, "I'd prefer if you made it."

As you walk around the counter, you gently rest a hand on her waist, watching her carefully. Her handgrips your arm tightly, words stuttering from her lips as she tries to remind you that she's not going. You're leaving her again.

Without hesitation, you press your lips against hers, feeling her breath wash over you in a sigh. You pull her in tighter, leaning your head back to speak,

"Sam's going stir crazy. He can have it."

A smile tugs at your lips as you see her furrowed brows on her face, you place a kiss at the center of the wrinkles, pulling back to see the scrunching of her nose. A scrunch just for you.

"Wanda Maximoff. I love you. And I'm not losing you twice."

Without warning, her lips smash against your as she wraps her arms around your shoulders as you hoist her up. Wanda's legs wrap around you as both of you are smiling so wide that you can't kiss properly. Feeling her cold hands press gently against your face, you look into those green eyes that complete you life.

"I love you." Wanda whispers as her witchcraft wraps around you once more.

#marvelxreader #marvelxreader fanfic fest 2021 #wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda mcu #WOM2021

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chokemeanakin · 4 years

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idk if you do like song request sorta things, but could you do a fic based on the song "night bus" by gabrielle alpin? especially the "suddenly i know that i'm on my way home to you for the last time" part--maybe an angsty sort of thing where the reader and anakin's relationship gets discovered and she gets sent away or smth? idk i couldn't stop thinking ab it last night and i have no motivation to write it myself and i love your writing so maybe?? tysm!

Oh sis this was so much fun to write. Even though it is sad... idk i liked getting in the feels. Anyway I hope it meets your expectations. If it didn’t, well, pls write it yourself and tag me! I’d love to see what your vision was ❤️🤗

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

WC: 1.8k

Night Bus - Anakin x gn Reader angst

You swore this would never be you. You promised yourself it would last. If two people love each other, there should be no reason you couldn’t be together.

That’s childish thinking, you tugged your jacket tighter around you. Your boots dragged through the grey sludge of the sidewalk, remnants from a lazy downpour of wet snow a few hours before. Your mind whirled and stomach churned as the streetlights began blinking on one by one, the markets closing up for the night.

It should have been a peaceful thing, but you felt sick. With each step closer to your destination, you felt as though a current was dragging you back, the darkness closing in around you. You knew as soon as you reached him, it would be for the last time. Your fairytale would come to an end, and as you walked through the bitter streets of Coruscant on your way to the Jedi temple, you prepared yourself to say goodbye to your prince charming.

“It’s selfish, what you’re doing,” Master Windu had hissed at you. You were still reeling from his admittance that he knew about your and Anakin’s relationship. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, you had no idea how he found out.

“Obi-Wan told you,” your lips felt like rubber.

“He did not,” Mace leveled his gaze at you. “He knows, I’m sure of it. But he respects Anakin too much to give him away like that. A flaw on his part, which will be dealt with later.”

Your head was swimming. What did this mean for you? For Anakin? For the both of you together? Obviously you knew what was next, but your mind couldn’t wrap around it, couldn’t accept it.

“You need to let him go,” Mace declared, not a hint of mercy detected.

“I can’t.”

“Then he needs to let you go.”

“He won’t.”

“Then you will be the fall of the Jedi!” His sudden outburst made you flinch. Your heart beat fast, blood swishing in your ears. His body was still as a statue, but his eyes were wide and his chest was heaving with an anger that was barely under control. Master Windu was of the more… pessimistic Jedi, but you had never really seen him lose control so completely. Now, you could see he was overwhelmingly stressed. No, not stressed-- panicked.

“He needs me,” you replied shakily, unwilling to stand down. Anakin had made it clear over and over again that if you just said the word, he would leave the Order for you. The only reason he was still here was because you wouldn’t let him abandon his purpose for you. Windu may think you would be the downfall of the Jedi, but you were the reason it hadn’t completely fallen yet.

“You’re a poison to him.”

It looked like neither of you would be backing down. Windu saw this, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened them, he strolled to his seat, and then motioned for you to take the one beside him.

“Let me explain myself,” his voice was much calmer now, but the hard look in his eyes remained. “Anakin is important. Not just to the Jedi, but to the balance of life itself.”

“He never asked for any of that.”

“But he still is,” Windu argued. “There’s no changing that fact. He is powerful. He has potential. And he’s unstable. He was before he met you, and he is now-- even more so.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of how he feels about you.”

You clenched your fists and glared at Windu. “How could being in love ever be a bad thing?”

“Love is an attachment. When one is attached to something, it can be taken away. When it is taken away, it breeds anger and hate and resentment, a path to the dar--”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” you spit. “I know of your Jedi laws and morals. Now tell me why our love is so forbidden if all it’s bringing him is happiness and peace?”

“For now. It’s happiness and peace for now, because it’s new. I should have stepped in sooner, should have stopped it before it was too late. But with the start of the war, I lost sight of it, got too distracted…” Windu shook his head. “If you end it now, he’ll be able to move on. The damage won’t be permanent.”

“I don’t understand,” your chest stung.

“He loves you. Any Jedi can sense that. And you love him, too.” You couldn’t meet Windu’s gaze. “If something happens to you, and you are taken away from him, or-- Force forbid-- you die, it will break him. He will be consumed by anger and hatred and he will fall to the dark side. His emotions are strong, far too strong to be handled easily. If Anakin goes to the darkside, the Jedi will be no match for the Sith. We will perish, and the war will be lost, and so will any semblance of peace that exists in this life.”

Mace’s tone softened as he saw the tears build up in your eyes. “This path is inevitable, and it needs to be prevented. The only way we can be sure is to remove you from his life. It was a mistake letting you two get so close, and the Council takes full responsibility. But now, you must let him go.”

“How certain are you,” you forced the words from your aching throat. “How certain are you of this future?”

“Yoda had a vision.”

Your breath left you like a balloon deflating. You were glad you were sitting now, because you didn’t think your legs could handle the weight as you felt your world crumble around you. Anakin’s smiling face flashed through your mind, and a tear trailed down your face.

“You have until sunrise to leave Coruscant,” Mace’s tone was back to authoritative, formal and commanding, leaving no room for argument. “You can never return. Not as long as Anakin is here. You may never come in contact with him ever again.”

“And who’s going to stop me if I do? Who’s going to stop him?”

“If you have any respect for every innocent living being in this galaxy, you will do what needs to be done. Now go. You have a job to do.”

You swore you could hear your heart drop and shatter to the ground in a million tiny pieces as you stood from that chair and walked out of the council room. You spent the day mulling over your conversation, crying, pacing, and pulling at your hair. You tried to think of anything you could do to be with Anakin-- pretend to leave him and be even more secretive, get a different identity so you could stay on Coruscant, run away together. You knew he would if you asked.

But deep down, you knew Windu was right. The Jedi needed Anakin, and you were his weakness. If Anakin left, or fell to the dark side because of you, it would be the end of the galaxy. Just because it wasn’t a possibility now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t one in the future. Yoda had a vision, after all, and the fear in Windu’s eyes told you it was serious.

Now here you were, walking to Anakin’s place to spend one last night with him before you had to leave him. Forever. Your body ached from the cold, the grief, and from packing your belongings all afternoon. You could barely form words as you booked a ship off the planet for early next morning. Then, you had numbly pulled on your jacket and boots, and began your trek to Anakin one last time.

Cars whizzed overhead, the honking distant in your hollow ears. You were shaking, but not from the cold, as you caught sight of the Jedi temple ahead. The entrance was only a few feet away. You just had to walk through the door, sneak down the hallway, and you’d be there. He’d open the door, offer you a blinding smile, pull you inside, and warm you up with a drink and a kiss. You would put something on the holonet like you always did, just for background noise, and lay down on the bed and just be together. Talk, or kiss, or hold each other. Feel his laugh vibrate through your body because he was pressed so close to you, watch his curls bounce as he shook his head, listen to the soft sounds of him sleeping. The moonlight always made him look like some sort of space prince as it glistened off his cheekbones, painting him in a pale blue. You would trace your fingertips along his face, and he would pretend to still be asleep as he smiled and kissed your fingertips. So happy, so at peace, so in love--

You stopped in your tracks.

I can’t do this.

The pain was building up again. You thought your heart had already shattered, but the ghost of it kept cracking. Something awful was breaking in your chest with each breath, each second, each step toward your goodbye. There was no way you could face him and be okay tonight. The tears were already making an appearance.

“You need to let him go,” Windu’s voice battled your sorrow. “You will be the fall of the Jedi.”

The breath you took was like swallowing razor blades as the cold air filled your lungs. Steadying yourself on the wall of the temple, you pushed your way past the entrance and entered the main hall. The familiar smell worsened your nausea, and you kept your hood up and head down as you walked the familiar path down the hall, taking the elevator up, and then crossing the last hallway before you found his door.

You schooled your features and shoved down the swirling tempest threatening to spill out of you. Once your hands stopped trembling, you brought a fist up and knocked on the door.

Anakin opened the door. He was smiling brilliantly, blue eyes sparkling in the light. The image of his face falling, eyes clouding over in confusion and hurt as he searched for you the next morning and found you gone flashed through your mind. You knew he would never stop searching for you. This is not what he would have wanted. But Mace was right-- he would heal, in time, and he could live the life he was supposed to live; as a Jedi, a General, and the Chosen One.

“Anakin,” you forced yourself to smile. “Hi.”

His smile turned from charming to soft, hands immediately moving to pull you into his room for the last time. “You’re freezing, my love. Let’s get you warmed up, I already made you something to drink.”

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin angst #anakin x reader angst #anakin fic #star wars prequels

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thessalian · 2 years

Text

Thess vs Buyer’s Remorse

In the Discord channel that hosts my mad little D&D group (well, not so little; I have a lot of players), the topic of buyer’s remorse came up. Gods, I know that feel all too well. Even when it’s useful. Even if it sparks joy and everyone needs a bit of joy now and then. Even when you’ve earmarked that money specifically for something nice. Always there’s the frisson of remorse and fear about spending money lately.

I have made purchases lately. These are more investments than anything else. See, I planted the remnants of my spring onions about two weeks ago and I let them root and planted them, as per my no-waste kitchen gardening book. They’re doing wonderfully, as it happens, so I’m emboldened to try the potatoes I have that are currently sprouting. Also some other vegetable seeds, some garlic to plant, and some pots and soil. This is all going to be an investment because I am growing my own food, and it’ll earn itself back again when I’m happily lowering my grocery bill with home-grown stuff. Literally, since it’s all windowsill and maybe balcony soon. Potatoes in particular will be a triumph, since I am gluten-intolerant and my starch intake relies a lot on potatoes. Thus, grow-bags, since my pots are not big enough to support proper potatoes and it’s easier to harvest in a grow-bag than in a pot anyway. As to the garlic ... well. GARLIC. It goes in everything. Growing it myself sounds ideal. And saving a few cloves from the ones I grew from seedling to grow more garlic is ideal (especially since the last garlic I bought is stubbornly refusing to sprout on its own).

Thing is, even though I know this is going to be really helpful and save me money in the long run, and it’s actually been doing my mental health some good to have plants to tend to ... I still feel bad about the expenditure. It’s stupid. I’m going to feel bad about the tomato and cucumber plants I have plans to buy next payday (since that’d be easier on me than trying to grow them from seeds). And I shouldn’t. I should envisage salad with my own home-grown ingredients over the summer - the lettuce I planted a couple of months back (doing great), the spinach I planted about the same time (needs repotting), and baby cucumbers and cherry tomatoes of the sort that can thrive in indirect light. But it’s spending money, at a time when money is a scarce thing.

I hate it, did I mention? I mean, I budgeted for this, but my brain still says, “You are spending money FEEL BAD NOW”. It does the same thing about the curry I just ordered even though I have a very specific “I cannot bring myself to cook so takeaway must happen” fund. (Although honestly, since the tracker map puts the guy who’s supposed to be picking up my order still sitting in Peckham and not moving to pick up my order for, like, the last twenty-odd minutes, I’m feeling a very different type of remorse of the “If I’d dragged up the energy to cook I’d have eaten half an hour ago” variety, so blegh.)

Anyway. Money. There is too little of it but there is a reminder that we all need something for our mental health, not just the basics of survival. I won’t tell you what to feel, but when buyer’s remorse comes for you, just remember that I think you’ve earned a treat. (I wish I more convincingly thought that I’ve earned a treat, but it’s a work in progress.)

Oh, side note: as well as the onions, the lettuce, and the spinach, my coriander is hanging on for dear life after the cold snap we had last week, the parsley needs repotting but is doing fine, my dill has sprouted wonderfully, my mint is going like a godsdamned chia pet, my basil ... might get bigger if I repot it but it’s losing baby leaves, one of my lemon balm seeds has started sprouting, and I’m seeing life in the alpine strawberries. I’m actually doing well!

#Thess on gardening

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The Pack

Build Up of Tension

Summary- 8.4k Alpha!Steve x You. Morning after attack, Steve shows you around, Bucky follows the Tracker, Natasha is brought back by Alpha Tony and Pepper. Warnings- implied abuse.

A/N- Im really in awe at the response and I hope this story continues bringing people happiness. Moodboard made by @omega-nicole, I love it babes, thank you so much for taking the time to read and put it together for the story. Thank You to everyone who reads from all the Wolves 🐺❤

Chapter Two/ Pack Master List

You were sitting out on Steve’s back deck for the rest of the night, sleep? It wasn't something you could bring yourself back to do. Crawl back into that bed with the memory of waking up the Pierces tracker looming over you with nothing but the moonlight edging his outline. Even your wolf paced back and forth in your mind, shaking herself once in a while to dispel the tension lacing your body. Around your shoulders Steves jacket rested, warding off the early morning’s damp chill rolling off the lake nearby. Nearby the large Alpha was settled in the opposite deck chair, his feet stretched to lean on the deck railing, bare feet crisscrossed at his ankles, and his arms crossed over his chest, head tipped forward so his chin rested on his chest. You couldn't help but watch him on occasion while he was lightly sleeping, your nose pressed in the collar of his jacket, inhaling his comforting scent.

<You should crawl in his lap.> Your little wolf whined as you took in that heavy male scent once more <I would at least feel better.>

We're not disturbing his rest anymore then we already have, he should have gone to his own bed last night.

You grumbled at your Little Wolf, not needing her to point out things you didn't want to admit to yourself. You could already feel the Full Moon Runs bonding starting to sharpen, just being in his home was tying you two together, and that human side was scared of that connection. You've seen bondings that were all one-sided, the other losing themselves completely to there partner that they turned into a husk. Nothing more than property to the other. You shuddered at the idea and turned back to face the lake, watch with a new fascination at the way the light broke through the pines, beams dancing over the rippling water that lapped at stony grey shores. The soft haunting lilt of mourning doves ripping through the upbeat morning songbirds just starting their greetings scattered through the forest The Compound was settled right in the middle of. This was more fascinating then assessing the possibility of being an Alpha Mate, you lied to yourself over and over, sure that would make it true.

After Steve was sure the Trackers were removed, he had gone inside to find you earlier that night. You weren't hard to find, the glass door leading to the back of the cabin wide open and he could see your silhouette sitting in the alpine chair you had sat in just a couple days ago for the first time. He wanted to insist you come back in, put you back to bed, you needed the recharge after the run as much as he did. You and your wolf needed rest in order to shift properly again, but he couldn't find it in his heart to demand you do such a thing. Twice in a short period of time, he had already took away your willpower to disobey him, and he wouldn't again, not this night. Instead the Alpha picked up a jacket he had hanging, his Wolf rumbled protectively while he stepped outside. “Hey” He said softly and holds the jacket open which you willingly leaned forward, he had set the jacket around.

When you willingly accepted it, Steve resisted pulling you into his arms, let his hands relax you in his lap, against his chest where he could envelop you. You weren't his. And with that, he settled down, to stay out with you as long as he did. The silence drifting far beyond his back deck. It encased the forest much like the fog rolling off the water frequently did. You made no effort to talk, and he didn't either. His Wolf, diligent with perked ears and flashing eyes watched over you in the only way he could, nearby, in silence. Finally a lone howl echoed back to the two of you, and Steve tilted his head listening to it. The pack mate informing that the Tracker had crossed the border, and they were following along the line to make sure he didn't attempt to return.

Now that he could relax a bit more, letting his head drift to rest against his chest, never truly falling asleep. Steve still was aware of you nearby, of the pack running the border tracking the intruder, every breath in brought him news of the stirrings of other members settling back in the early morning hours that there was a tinge of unease with them. Unease, some of them were worried about what the stranger might have brought with her. The Wolf slowly sunk down to a lay, processing everything Steve was giving him. <We will need to take care of any doubts, she belongs here. At our side, she is ours>

We will handle any that have an objection to her being here. I wouldn't turn any away that was a danger to the pack.

<They will point out the Trackers, that she brings danger.> He pointed out, resting his head down, muzzle crossing over his paws.

She can't help the danger that follows her. She is just trying to start over.

Satisfied with your answer, the Wolf remained silent, watching over the one he considered his. Neither beast nor man chose to point out that they didn't disagree with the 'she is ours.’

When Steve stirred hours later, he tipped his head back to yawn, stretching his jaw, and arms lifted over his head to reach for nothing really. He dropped his feet from the deck. You stirred next to him, shifting in the seat to face him, giving a soft smile of the collar of his jacket that you were cocooned in. You had drawn your feet up and now it had encased you like an oversized hug. It made the wolf in him very pleased to see you covered in his clothing, his scent would cling to you to any other wolf that passed you. “Morning” He said his forearms draping over his knees and letting his upper weight fall against them, leaning in closer towards you.

“Morning Steve.” Your Little Wolf, is preening at the Alpha, seeing his 'Wake Up’. “I hope we didn't wake you up. But now that your awake, I did want to say something.” Your Little Wolf perked, and knowing the thoughts edged in your mind, she gave you a growl. <Stop that right now.>

“Not, not at all Little One” He rubbed on his face with vigor and paid attention again. “what's on your mind?”

It all kind of rushed out, you could feel what you were saying shattering your heart and the Little Wolf snapping at you in anger for what you were saying, her growls first and foremost at your mind that it even muffled what you were speaking. “Steve, it's not going to stop, I know Pierce. For everyone here, it will be safer for me to leave, and be seen leaving... “ You could see the moment his eyes went from a hazy blue to sharp and warning, Steve’s jaw clenching under his beard, it ticked.

“The only way your leaving Y/N, is if you want to. Not from fucking fear, or intimidation from anyone. If you want to move on fine.” His wolf bristled, all the fur on his ruff standing on end, traveling down his back in hostility at the very idea she should leave cause of danger. And much like yours, was very vocal. Steve overlooked that though, knowing it was simply his drive to keep you with him at all costs. “But this is your home as long as you want it to be.”

I had to, he has to know the danger being here could mean for his pack. If anything happened to them... I couldn't.

Trust, what was that really like? You haven't trusted anyone since you matured and was forced into finding a suitable mate to be paired with, continuous threats at being collared beaten into you until that day finally came. You didn't even realize Steve moved to a stand, and his hands cupped around your face until he tipped your face up to look at him, his thumbs sweeping over your cheeks, and his brow creased in worry. “Y/N? Hey, you hear me?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and your eyes lifted. His warmth started to seep into you, making you want to uncurl from his coat and right around him. Your breath hitched a moment, and you could feel your Little Wolf start to stir, your own body aching to press into his hold, feel him against her, over her... Quit It!

<That wasn't because of me Y/N> The Little Wolf snorted

Fuck

Who would have guessed just a simple touch would send Steve spiraling high, he immediately picked up the way your heart sped up and your sweet honeysuckle scent wafted in that intoxicating way that told him to drop his head, taste your lips, lick down your skin till you were saying his name in that breathless manner. His pupils blew in his arousal, a light hazing of yellow gleaning over as the beast started craving more. “I understand Steve.” Your voice, soft and inviting. He had to pull away before he dragged you down on the porch and... snapping out of it, he pulled his hand away, growling out softly. “Good, this is your home now Y/N.”

Quick to escape inside, Steve went one way to prepare for the day, and you remained curled up in the Alpine chair, your forehead pressed to your knees, chastising yourself for the way your body responded to him. The way your Little Wolf constantly fought for it, the way you were simply scared of it. This wasn't anything like the other times, when Pierce would present you to an unmated wolf, there wasn't the same fear in his hands that there was in any of theirs. And that... fuck that terrified you.

Steve needed to step away, get a clear head. This was nothing like with Alana, and as he wrenched open his front door, Bucky and Sam already headed up the walk to meet with him, Steve played it off as he was expecting them. Not running away from you sitting on his back deck, looking at him with those wide eyes of yours that looked innocent, but stirred something much more than that. “He's still nearby, we have a tail on him, but he looks like he's getting ready to move,” Sam said as they both came up on the porch, not picking up on Steves distracted presence at the moment.

“Mmhh... I want to know where he comes from, where the pack is settled in. That alpha isn't going to be okay with having one of his wolves killed.” Bucky didn't flinch a bit when Steve mentioned this. He was doing nothing more than protecting the pack, and although he was hesitant with you, he would do it again. “Call Stark, I want Natasha here now. It's about time we see how well that training of his works.” Sam immediately pulled out his phone and started preparations. Bucky leaned up against the railing, and eyed the Alpha for a moment, arching his brows. “How did it go last night? Your wolf push for more?”

Steve glanced at him and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, he was satisfied she was safe, but that run, her staying here... It's different this time, not like before with Alana. She's scared, of what her old Alpha is capable of. Y/N actually considered leaving, she brought it up this morning. We had a moment just before you two showed up.” From behind him, Steve was acutely aware of you in the kitchen, doing what he now realized was a morning routine for you, Scooping grinds into the filter, pouring water into the canister... And Bucky watched Steve get slightly distracted, the curve of his mouth lifting at the corner hearing you. “You got it bad man...”

“Shut up Bucky.” Steve snapped back at him.

“No, I mean it. Even now you're so fucking tuned into her that you can't hide it. Hey, maybe I was wrong earlier, and you should actually see where this takes you. I thought at first you were just being your usual self, needing to save someone and got distracted cause she was unmated, but this... this isn't like that at all.” Bucky gave a shrug. “Maybe this is what Sam is always going on about with Sara. I know I've never bought into that soul mate stuff, but maybe you two are compatible. Just don't be so fucking stubborn, a'right?”

Sam turned back to the two of them, Steve drifting from all the Bucky just laid on him to his news. “Nat be back by tonight Tony said., he's going to fly in. He asked if there was some kind of trouble since it was a rush, but I told him to get ahold of you later, then you just tell him what you want.” Steve nodded. “Bucky trail him, just don't let yourself get caught. He will probably recognize your scent.” Steve started to feel better now that things were happening, his wolf to, and just as the men left, you stepped out onto the porch, bringing him a cup of that coffee you just brewed. Steve accepted it gratefully, letting the caffeine ease into his system.

“How about I show you more of the area Y/N?” he suddenly offered, his eyes looking you over momentarily, your blush spotting your cheeks at the attention. That made him smile, seeing you get a bit bashful on him. “Works canceled, need a part to fix the machine, and there are some good beaches to run on nearby, if your up for a shift so soon.”

< Let's do it Y/N! I can handle coming back out.>

You sure? We haven't slept to recharge.

You dipped back your mug, and eyed the Alpha over the rim, he waited so patiently for your answer, that you grinned at him and nodded. “Would love that, I will meet you back out here in just a few minutes.” Taking his mug, you escaped inside with the door ajar, and cleaned up right quick. Steve thought nothing of it, and simply waited. He was surprised though when you didn't necessarily come back out, but your wolf trotted out to greet him, “Oh! well aren't you quick Little One.” Holding out his hand, you mouthed it lightly and his other came up to brush over your head and down your neck, chuckling. “Guess I gotta catch up.” You flashed your eyes up at him and gave a wolfish smirk before bolting out of his hold and off the porch, hightailing it for the woods you had run in the night before. Steves wolf was now ramped up, pushing for a shift and Steve started peeling off clothing off right there on his porch, tossing and kicking it away.

I'm fucking going as fast as I can! as soon as Steve lost his sweats, the wolf burst forward, and the heavy alpha was sailing off the steps, landing heavily on his front paws and as soon as his back legs spring back underneath him, Steves off, following where he's seen the light-colored she-wolf disappear into the shadowed depths of the forest.

His Forest.The she-wolf was exploring His Forest.

Steve had been running these trails since he started shifting, and his eyes slit almost closed to protect from flying debris every time he pounded into the pine needled trails, and under low hanging branches slapping at him. Your scent clung to the cool air under the towering pines, fresh and enticing 'catch me Alpha’, his muzzle weaved back and forth following it till he shot past it, and spun mid-trail to backtrack, leaping off into the unbroken ground, and weaving around trees. Heading for the edge of the lake, where he caught sight of you pacing ahead, your ruff hanging around your neck swaying back and forth in your trot. Your ears flicking back when you heard him, but the oversized Alpha had effectively caught up to you and before you could spring away once more, he crashed into you, the two of you rolling and nipping at each other sharply, all in play of course.

Once you land on his chest, you make a growing noise while shaking a mouthful of his silver fur, making as if you were mad at his antics. Steve twisted so you slipped off and pinned you down below him, making you bare your fangs at him. A large oversized tongue swiped over your muzzle and he bounded away with a howl, twisting to slap at the ground with his front paws, enticing you to play. Very cat-like, you slithered forward through the grass and sprang at him, chasing after him as he barreled away, leading you closer to the lakeshore.

The air went from dark trees shadowing you to damp freshwater, begging to be played in and lapped at. Of course with the air so heavy from the moisture, it carried the Alphas scent better, and soon you were whining with need, pulling Steve up short when he heard the sharp noise, ears perked and the tip of his tail, cricking in concern for you. Trotting back, and inhaling against you, his muzzle poking around, to search where you might be hurt, is when he caught the reason why. Dragging in your aroma, the Alpha started nipping in affection at your neck as you tilted it, careful not to bite hard, his tongue lolling over your forehead and ears, over your eyes and muzzle.

Essentially any who come near you would smell him, that you were his and his alone. He wasn't willing to share your and would kill any that threatened the two of you, anyone who would dare lay an unwanted hand on you. In return you rubbed your chest against his, licking under his chin, and nuzzling against him in respect for who he was, his leadership of the pack and yourself. Your wolf had no qualms giving herself to Steve, it was only your human selves that made this complicated. The two of you weaved around each other in circles, a courtship dance before bounding off together to escape the treeline and stretch out in a run across the stony beach, crisscrossing back and forth in harmony. Neither pulling ahead of the other, although Steve was well aware giving the chance to let loose, you could easily outtake him.

Both of you slowed to a trot, shoulder to shoulder, brushing up against each other once in a while before pulling apart, you tilted towards the water's edge, and bit at the water, spraying it in play. Steve sat at the edge, tilting his head watching as you pawed at it with a growl, wading in further with your tail happily wagging back and forth. Finally you slipped beyond where you could reach and started swimming in short bursts. Steve on the other hand was content to watch you play, settling himself down with a groan on the stones, his head following your back and forth movements in the water. His ears perked when you disappeared for a moment underneath, only to see you pop back up closer to shore and slowly making your way out.

Your wolfish grin gave you away as dripping wet you padded up to him. Making him flash his canines at you in warning. You faltered a bit, but then continued on, the warning rumbles getting deeper as he followed you, pinning his ears back. You came close enough and then shook vigorously, spraying the scrambling Alpha, who returned to wrestle you to the ground, unable though to catch you, the two of you started dancing across the beach again in play. Bowed bodies, slapping forepaws on the ground, high waving tails, barks and yips at each other.

Further away, Sam and Sara sat just out of your two’s sight on a ledge, watching there Alpha do something he never really did with another. Sara's head tilted up to her mate, whining excitedly and nuzzling into his fur, before moving to a stand and she padded away to give their Alpha privacy. Sam watched with a tilt of his head at the courtship dance a moment longer before spinning away to join his mate, the two of them running in a similar manner to the deeper forest. Down below, the two of you sprinted off again, Steve leading you back into another part of the forest, continuing to take you around the lake for the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, human worries aside. The wolves were enjoying the freedom these forms got to enjoy. You two only returned after exhaustion started to set in from the quick shifts and night before.

You stumbled into Steve once you two reached The Compound. Shouldering you forward and nudging you to go up the steps before him, you push inside the house while he shifts right on the porch, grabbing clothes and stuffing legs into a pair of pants once more, the rest of his clothing hanging off his forearm. Digging the phone out of his pocket, he checked to see if he missed anything while away with You. Sure enough he had a few messages. One from Buck- He's on the move, i’m following behind. I will be sure to let you know where we end up. The tracker must have been traveling by the road, and knowing Bucky he probably stole a vehicle in town. The next was from Stark- Pepper and I will be up with Natasha soon Steve. Steve arched a brow reading the New Yorks Alphas message. He had forgotten the New York Alphas were coming to.

But he wasn't surprised, Steve would welcome him, the two Alphas having made a pact years ago.

She's fine, we're not mated and he has his Pepper. Stop worrying.

Curious to see what you were actually doing, He went inside, calling out your name, and you came out of your bedroom, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn. “Mmmh right here. I'm starving.” Again you were wearing just his shirt, and what seemed to be nothing else, since they fell to mid-thigh, and he groaned softly just seeing it.

<You could go see you know what's under the bottom of that shirt..> The wolf rumbled, and Steves nostrils flared to hold himself back, the wolf snickering at the human's reaction.

Yes, I could... The wolf licked his muzzle, suddenly very interested in this new change, pushing up from where he had been resting to a stand. Pushing, for the Alpha to claim her. Steve inhaled her scent, the sweetness of her committed to memory now, but he really wouldn't get enough of it, and it took away his common sense, no he wanted her in a way Steve had never wanted a she-wolf. Not even Alana could compare to the way you have him captured. And you didn't even know.

Your hair cascaded down over your shoulders as you brushed past the Alpha, sniffing the air for something. You followed your wriggling nose around, opening cupboards and such. Steve leaned on his elbows, watching with a quirked brow as you would go to tiptoes to spin the other way, searching still with closed eyes, the tip of your nose lifted.

“What are you looking for Little One?” Steve chuckled in response when you yanked two cupboards open, scanning boxes.

“I'm looking for... THIS!” You arch up to reach well above your head whining as your fingertips just can't reach the red cereal box with Capn' Crunch on the front. The back of shirt lifting to show the flowered panties you were wearing, and Steve's heart jumped in his chest, the Wolf rumbling at the sight of you all stretched out, trying to catch the box. “Steve can you help me please?” You bit your lip in your efforts. Steve pushed off the counter and wrapped his hands around your hips to lift you, making you yip in surprise while looking back at the Alpha who was smirking. “Go ahead Little One, get your prize.”

Your hand grasped around the box, and he eased you back to your feet, his chest brushing against your back and making your breath hitch in your throat, resisting the urge to arch back into him. The tension rippling between you two makes you swallow, and take a few shallow breaths. You can feel his fingers grasping the curve of your hip a little harder than normal, that maybe his breathing stopped in the moment, waiting to see how you would react. Your Little Wolf stretched, a silent movement in your mind till her yellow eyes snapped on in a glow, rumbling softly. <Reach out for him Y/N...> Your body as if against your will turned to face him, looking up into vibrant blues that were searching your face matching the way yours were, your gaze falling from his eyes to his lips, the plump softness that even though the rest of him was hard masculine, they weren't. You couldn't lie having thought about them skimming down your body while you laid in his guest room in the night, when he was just on the opposite side. To feel his hands as they were now, but not with clothing between the two, just completely bare, skin to skin. To feel the Alpha cage you in so you had to submit to him... Steve’s head started to lower, and yours tipped up, both drawing in deep breaths drowning in each other's aroused scent.

So when the sharp knock sounded at the door, Steves hold on your hips tightened at you tensing and the alpha growled in an aggressive way that sounded nowhere close to human. You immediately pulled back, clutching your cereal box at your chest and the connection was lost. So fragile in it's beginning that it shattered as soon as the knock snapped them both back to there surroundings. Steve's wolf was snarling at whomever was on the other side, and Steve just rumbled when he saw you retreating away from him, and to disappear down the hall towards the guest room. Fuck... Rubbing the tension off his face, he called out “Come in.”

The door popped open to Natasha strolling in, the redhead smirking and her green eyes went up and down the tensed Alpha, cocking a brow. “well hello to you to. Sent you a text message but...” Her nostrils flared and a knowing look simmered in her eyes. “See you've been busy.” Steve rolled his eyes at the she-wolf, beckoning her to come on in, whatever there was, it was done for this moment. “I heard Tony came with Pepper as well?” The Alpha asked her as she settled in a stool, nodding. “Yea, Sam and Sara are with them right now, discussing the broken equipment so you have a few minutes. I told them I would let you know they were here.” Natasha looked around the dwelling, picking up little signs of you here and there. “And your woman. I heard you took in someone off the border.”

“She's not MY woman.” Steve corrected her. “How soon can you join Bucky on the road.”

That's correct I haven't, so she's not mine.

Natasha tapped her nails against the marble countertop, studying Steve. “No... no she's not. Not like you two connected on the full moon run, no one saw you two run as a team. No ones noticed all this mess right here... “ Natasha waved a hand at Steve as if confirming the rumors she's been told. “Or that there was a perfectly good guest cabin at the other end of The Compound set up just for such an occasion. Can't feel the tension in here at all, nope.” Natasha smirked at her Alpha. Why did he send for her again?

<Natasha is one of your strongest wolves and she doesn't just bow down cause your Alpha. Fuck I missed her.> The wolf howled to his packmate, clearly siding with her.

Steve was getting so tired of everyone pointing it out to him, and he rumbled out as he turned away from Natasha and snapped the cupboard you had opened closed. “You didn't answer my question about Barnes.”

“Yes of course Steve, I can probably hit the road in the next hour and meet up with him. I just need the details. Welcome home Natasha, we missed you Natasha” she grumbled.

“Sorry Nat, I missed you since you've been at Starks.” Steve apologized and went back to business, Steve filled her in before he went to go meet Tony and Pepper.

In your room you were sitting on your bed, stuffing a mouth full of Capn' Crunch in your mouth, chewing without enjoying it. Your mind was to busy processing what had happened, those urges riddling through your gut that you never felt before. Your Little Wolf paced back and forth, sniffing the air once in a while to catch the she-wolfs scent in the kitchen. <What is she doing here? Is she trying to take Steve from us?>

“When the hell you get jealous?” you happened to say out loud, and the Little Wolf twisted in your mind, going to lay down, acting disinterested. <I'm not. Besides, you were the one who almost jumped him.>

Another mouthful of cereal and a mumbled. “With your help, what the fuck was that. It's never been... like that before,” you recalled the heat pooling so low, your skin tingling to press closer, rub against him. You, Little Wolf, snickered low in your mind, and you gut clenched at her next words.

Oh shit.... oh shit oh shit oh shit. Your eyes widened and you whine loudly.

“Y/N? I'm headed to go meet with a visiting set of Alphas... “Steve's voice came closer to your door and you rolled off the bed, grabbing shorts and stuffing them on, right when his head popped in the door.

“Be right with you.” you say hurriedly, and his gaze takes in your rushed features.

“Oh, you don't have to by any means, I was just letting you know.” He mentioned, but you shook your head and pulled your hair back into a ponytail.

“I'm ready.” You smoothed your hands down your shirts and fuck didn't you just look cute with his tee all tied up one side again and shorts, getting a bit sunkissed in your skin.

“Okay, we can walk with Nat, so you can meet her.”

Heading out to wander to the garage where Tony was, the two women exchanged greetings, and followed a bit behind Steve, checking each other out. The Little Wolf just stared at Natasha while you shook her hand, you smiled at her. The Little Wolf tilted her head, still checking her out. You weren't sure if that was a good thing out not. Usually the wolf knew right away. After a few moments of silence, the Little Wolf announced to you. <Shes not a threat, you can read it, Steve is like a brother to her, just her Alpha.>

Seriously? That's what that was about?

And as soon as that happened, things just fell into place. That five-minute walk ended with you and Natasa laughing at some story she was telling you, how Steve once fell off his own dock into the lake, you were snorting, Nat was smirking, Steve was looking over his shoulder at the pair of them, hiding a smile, and saying in a much sterner mocking alpha voice. “Do I have to separate you two?”

Natasha looked at you, and snorted in the most unwomanly like way. “He thinks he's tough, Y/N, he's a softy I swear. Alright, if I'm gonna meet up with Barnes, I gotta go. See you two crazy lovebirds around.” Nat shot out as she walked away, you blushing and Steve moaning to himself. Fucking Natasha. From the open doorway, Sara leaned against it, and reached inside to push a button, the main door lifting to show Pepper working with Sam looking over the parts inventory, and Tony was at the workbench, twiddling with the broken part from the other day. “Fixed it! I mean, something any genius can do. Oh hey Steve.” The New York Alpha grinned over his sunglasses at him, wiping his hands clean on a rag. “Nice to see ya, how have you been? We've been GREAT, thanks for asking.”

“Hello Tony" Steve uttered, and you shyly stayed behind him for a moment, not missing the slight aggravation in his tone. But it warmed when he greeted the other woman. “Pepper, I'm sure Sam is making you quite an order list.” The other woman chuckled, tucking her tablet back in her bag. “Its not to bad Steve, about half as much as last time.” She went over to Tony and leaned into him slightly, his arm immediately going around her waist. Steve decided to let you be for now, sensing that you were a bit nervous at the newcomers. He knew you would come around when you were ready for him to introduce you.

“Thank you for escorting Natasha back, it was very generous of you.” Steve reached out his hand and the two men shook, Tony rolled his shoulder in a nonchalant way. “No biggie, Pepper, and I been needing to do something away, and I wanted to check on Wanda and Pietro.”

“Well Pietro isn't here at the moment, he's doing a deal with some investors for me out west at the moment, I sent that email to you, but Wanda I'm sure will be more than thrilled to see you.” Sara already had stepped away to go find her, and Tony nodded. “Yes, but first Steve, we need to talk. Privately.”

You tensed up a bit and Steve let an assuring hand rest in the small of your back instinctively. All is okay Little One... “Of course, how about we go back to my office, Pepper knows her way around well enough. This here is Y/N by the way, she just arrived, so she's not entirely familiar with everything quite yet.”

Sam stepped forward and winked. “Come on you two, let these two have at it. In fact, I think today would be a great day to do a community meal. You two want to help me set up?” Steve was relieved to see you brighten up at the idea, and with a parting look to him, you went off, discussing what needed to be prepped. Tony waited till they were out of earshot.

“Brock and Alanna popped up on the council's radar again. They seemed to have joined a pack, selling unmated wolves off.” Tony started sharing and Steve guy clenched. “I'm aware of the pack... that's actually where Y/N came from. Showed up on the border, running from Trackers. The fuckers actually had the balls to cross into our lands, and into my fucking cabin to remove her. Why I needed Natasha back. She's the only one I trust getting us more inside information.”

Tonys gaze went back to you following his Pepper and Sam, shaking his head. “Getaway? How... I've been told they have that whole pack under the fucking strictest rules by there Alpha, Pierce. He's a real piece of work. In fact, he's part of the reason the council is getting uneasy. They are selling off unmated wolves to human hunters, although we have no proof. Yet. Just a body of a young wolf slaughtered online, bragging. We're trying to look into it... but... “ he shook his head, growling from deep in his chest, the situation obviously had the other Alpha tense.

“Even more reason to dismantle them, Tony, they are disrupting the laws we do have, exposing us to the world that's not ready for us, and basically torturing. Our own kind. It's not like the humans can be blamed in this.” Steve said darkly. “I have no problem going down there myself and taking care of it. Especially if Brock and Alanna are involved. I should have ended Brock that day, but... “

Tony looked at Steve and nodded. “Yes you should, but that was then, and this is now. Look, don't do anything too rash, okay? Council isn't going to want an all-out pack war until we have all the facts. Just have Natasha collect, not assassinate.”

Steves wolf growled at Tony, flattening his ears. <Who made him Alpha of the Mountain Pack?> Steve snapped his own teeth in irritation, and cast the man a sharp blue-eyed glare. “I will do as I see fit with my wolves. Natasha will do as I ask.” With that he pushed off to go back outside, and join the people gathering tables together to bring out to the middle of the compound, Tony stood there for a moment, watching this large family that even welcomed his Alpha partner Pepper as one of his own, and worried for what was to come. As the voice to the packs about what the alpha council issued as law., a council set up specifically to protect the wolves, he couldn't help but feel he was thrown in the middle. Steve had always been against the monitoring of the wolves, but never put up much of a fight cause he saw the benefits it did do. Little did Steve know they were now drawing up new laws, and they would be enforced sooner rather then later if this mess with Pierce wasn't resolved quietly. Tony just couldn't see how that would happen.

The atmosphere later that night turned into a party, lights strung up around the trees, and a large bonfire, everyone brought more food then even a huge pack could eat, and now people were either dancing or sitting around the fire roasting marshmallows. Steve you watched from the corner of your eye laughing with a group of others he sat with, sharing a beer. You sat with Pepper, Tony and Sara just talking, your feet stretched out towards the fire to warm them. Tony was talking to Sara with his arm hanging around Pepper, about some program he had set up with other Alphas. And you held up a hand as if you had a question. Tony gaze fell on you and he barked out a laugh. “You got a question for the professor, lay it on me kid.”

“Why was Natasha with you in the first place, and Wanda... She's your wolf?” Your brows arched, and from across the fire you could see Steve push to a stand, looking around till he caught sight of you lounging in the grass, starting to make his way over. “Ahh, yes. One of my.. OUR proudest little organizations.” Tony corrected once Steve reached them, the long-legged man falling to sit next to you, leaning back on one hand and nodding. “Yes, ours is correct. It took a while, but Tony was diligent with convincing other Alphas to join in the idea.” Tony grinned all proud of it while Pepper looked at him, parting his chest. “Down boy down.”

“Not what you usually say to me Pep, but we will let it slide.” Tony teased her, dropping an innocent kiss to her cheek, and he returned to the question. “So we take wolves that can easily travel, not have too many obligations in the pack, and play them in an on-hands internship in another pack. Natasha and Clint, have extraordinary skills they learned from being in the human's military programs. Something I have a hand in the human world. In exchange Steve has two of my best more natural magic wolves. All this here, just strengthens there natural abilities, as well as Steve being somewhat really good at managing an industrious business.” Steve shook his head in embarrassment, and you grinned at him, seeing the flare-up of warmth in his cheeks. “You're overselling it Tony.”

“Your logging corporation has reached the top in the area. You choose to keep it small time and you know it.” Tony snorted at the other Alpha. “Anyways, although us Alphas don't get along for long periods of time in each others company doesn't mean we can't work together. So far not too many packs are willing to “loan” out there wolves as they see it, but those of us that do, it's created stronger bonds and our wolves are getting the education they need to succeed in this life. Any questions?”

You shake your head, getting an understanding of what they were doing. “No, I think I'm all set.” You naturally fall into Steves side, your eyes starting to feel heavy. Your wolf is quite happy in this moment, warm from the fire, settled in a loose ball napping in your mind. You try to pay attention to the conversation, but it's becoming harder, cause it's so warm, and Steve smells so good and relaxing. Not the lust-driven like before, but this time it's more of just him. A masculine pine and woodsmoke, a bit of just him that has no other explanation, the desire in your body to curl into him was strong, and instinctively you pressed into his side a bit more.

Steve looked down at you, eyes half shut and curled up into him a bit, he wondered if you knew you were even doing that. You felt different too him, he let his nose brush lightly near your hair, but didn't quite pick up on what it was. And he would keep you like that, even with Peppers and Tony’s gaze falling frequently to the scene while they chatted with Sara, who also was yawning,if he was able to. Sam arriving to check in on Sara, catching her yawn. “Still tired from the Run?” In which Sara nodded and took his hand to stand. “You know what, I know I'm exhausted as well" Steve piped up and you nodded at Tony and Pepper to in agreement. Pulling away from him, Steve felt a bit deflated having to lose you like that. “If you two aren't headed home tonight, your welcome to use that Cabin at the end.”

“Thanks, Rogers, we will probably head out in the morning, see if Wanda is ready to come home or not. See you all later.” Tony sprang up rather quickly and helped Pepper up, the two of them leaving hand in hand. Steve turned his attention to you, but you were already standing and stretching, making Steve groan at that little bit of skin flashing on your belly before you offered a hand to help him up. Steve stretched himself, his back flexing beneath the shirt, and scuffed his boot through the burning logs, scattering sand to kill the fire for the night. You waited till he was ready, and the two of you headed towards the dark cabin by the lake, each saying goodnight and going to your respective bedrooms, both to debate with your wolves and be frustrated. Even after your shower, you could feel your need to breed starting to take effect, your body heating more, and urges long dead inside of you taking hold.

Another state over Bucky stood in a wooded area in a crouch, once in a while pulling out his cell phone and having it on the dim setting, muttering to himself. “Come on Natasha.. where you at?” He had gotten a text hours ago from her saying she was almost there, and he already had time to skirt around at least the northern border of where the Tracker had crossed back into with his fallen brother. It was not quite as large as The Mountain Packs land, but still fairly large. He suspected Pierce didn't visit this end as often as he should from the scent lines. Or there was heavy human traffic, cause the packs border stopped at a tree line edging the town, and there were ATV lines everywhere. Within minutes he was checking his phone again, and sure enough there was no call from Natasha. “Fucking hell Nat... “He moved to stand up, when there was a hot growling breath behind him, and he spun around to almost smack into a slender red wolf, she bounced back before getting wailed, her green eyes dancing in laughter as she sidled back up to the man, licking his face.

Shoving her gently to get away from him, he snapped at her. “Must you do that? Sicko... One of these days I'm really going to hurt you.” The she-wolf flipped her muzzle up at him in a 'bring it’, wagging her tail. Buckys features softened slightly, at Natashas play. “Yea I missed you too. But don't come to close, they know what I smell like. You ready for this?” She bounded to him once more, licking his cheek before disappearing into the brush leading to the border.

“Well answers that" Bucky sighed as he rubbed his cheek dry. From further off, he heard Natasha's sharp howl, holding the White Wolf in him back to answer, Bucky waited, and sure enough another series of howls answered in a threatening tone. Moving to a stand, he wandered closer, staying out of sight to watch what happened. Natasha paced back and forth along the border, throwing her head back now and then to howl, taunting the pack's inability to get to her faster. Then three rather shaggy wolves came trotting up, circling around her, snapping at her face and haunches to try to get her to flinch, submit to them. The she wolf merely yawned at them, waiting for the invitation to cross over. Thats when Bucky saw him. He smelled like an Alpha... Kind of, even though he wasn't nearly the size of Steve, and even the smaller Tony. Bucky was confused for a moment at what he was seeing. But Pierce had a staggering stride, the way his head was held up and even his tail, higher ranking than those skirting around Natasha, trying to get a reaction out of her, they all lowered drastically in his presence.

Once Pierce approached her, the others stopped, all dropping to there bellies, Bucky tensed watching as he stared Natasha down, she slowly lowered, not nearly as the others did, but low enough that she could flash her neck at him, and he accepted. Now she was in, as they started to head further into the terrirotry, she gave a slight wag of her tail for Buckys benefit.

<I don't like this.. > The white wolf growled, uneasy shifting, and Bucky agreed with him. It felt wrong. I know... I don't like it either. Why we're sticking around for a few days, just in case Natasha needs a quick way out.

<Something is not right with them, Pierce is no Alpha, he looks like he's supposed to be a beta. How did he get this pack?> Bucky turned to leave back towards the road when his entire world went black, something hit him right in the head and the man just crumbled. A laughing voice sniggered as they prodded him with his foot. “Now we got both these bitches. Throw a collar on him and let's get out of here.”

Back at Steve’s cabin you tossed and turned in your bed, sweat slicking your body, and your breaths were soft gasps of fear, your eyes screwed tight as you were stuck somewhere in your mind. Flashes of being screamed at, a belt snapping above you in a threat as you huddled on the floor. A hissing voice you were too familiar with. “You will fucking bond with him, he played good money for you!” Your eyes would lift to see a male strut close, his hands fisting in your hair to drag you across the room. “I paid for a willing female, she's already refused both bites. I want a refund. If the bitch ain't gonna submit, I don't want her. ” It all swirled together in a jumble of memories, and your wolf was frantic trying to snap you out of it, pawing and throwing her body against the wall of your mind she was trapped behind. She even tried using her fangs, to break you loose, screaming. <WAKE UP!> and you did, snapping awake you sprang out of your bed, panting, eyes wild as the looked around for an escape.

Then it all came back, you escaped, you were with The Mountain Pack, and Steve was the alpha here. Steve... you don't know what compelled you to do it, but you padded out of that bedroom, the smell of fear following you, and you lightly scratched at his door with a whimper. Waiting for your Alpha to come open it, to let you in, keep you safe from the memories. That was what Alphas did, they were protectors. When the door open and Steve tilted his head curiously, rubbing at his face, he immediately perked. “Y/N? What's wrong?”

Your fear his him first, that acrid stinging scent that mixed with your honeysuckle ferns immediately made his heart jump in his chest, set his wolf on edge looking for danger. You look so small in his doorway, your eyes wide and you voice was so soft he barely heard it.

“I don't want to be alone.” And he inhaled your scent, it was more than that, fuck, she's close to being in heat. It was a risk to Steve, it could send him into a rut, and then there would be no stopping the two of you. No matter what you both actually wanted. But he stood there looking at you, and he knew that he couldn't turn you away. Stepping back, his bedroom door opened further in invite, and you stepped in, this time without hesitation, the door closing out the rest of the world.

Tag List- @what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @jtargaryen18 @onetwo3000 @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @fckdeusername @alexakeyloveloki @ayamenimthiriel @irishflutiegirl @mery-be @djeniiscorner @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @rinkashirikitateku @fallenoutofrose @caffiend-queen @southerngracela @titty-teetee @bohemian-barbie @vicky199625 @omega-nicole

#the pack #shifter steve #shifter!steve #Shifter Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers #Werewolf AU #MCU AU #Marvel AU #Marvel Fanfiction #Steve Roger Fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #wolf fanfiction #amber writes #sweater writes #steve rogers au

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buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

Photo

BBB Week 6 Roundup!

Little bit late, Mod Meg was on vacay over the weekend.

Title: Cute Quaterbacks Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: B4 - Sharing Clothes Rating: Teen Ship(s): Steve/Tony Major tags/warnings: AU, School, Fake Relationship, Protective!Bucky Summary: Steve and Bucky grew up as childhood best friends and are now roommates in college. Bucky dares Steve to bring a date to one of his upcoming football games after Steve suggests he could date anyone he wanted to. Enter Tony Stark. Word count: 1767

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Title: The Curse Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Kiss Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Clint Major tags/warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Magic, Curses Summary: Clint gets hit during an alien attack with some dark magic, Bucky and Steve can't wake him, so they go to the only person they know who can undo the curse: Stephen Strange. Word count: 1364

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Title: A Regular Harry Houdini Collaborator(s): Bird Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Prisoners/Captives Together Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Minor Episode 5 Spoilers, Post-The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captured, First Kiss Summary: “You know, if Steve kissed me in the middle of an escape attempt, he would bring it up after,” Sam said. “I thought we weren’t talking about Steve,” Bucky grunted, closing his eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.” “I can’t believe you’re pretending to take a nap right now.” “I’m 106, Sam. I’m allowed to fall asleep whenever I want.” Word count: 1365

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Title: K5 Card B096 Soulbond Collaborator(s): Rufferto Link: Tumblr Square: K5 - High Fantasy, Curses, Shiny Sword Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy Warrior Bucky, Curses, Art, Sword Steve Summary: When Bucky went off to war Steve was cursed into a sword. Bucky managed to find him because they share a bond but he's cursed. Bucky now carries Steve into battle wherever he goes looking for a way to have Steve at his side again. This was done on Hot Press Water Color Paper with Windsor & Newton and Arteza paints. I don’t much like the scan, there’s something always lost when a watercolor image is scanned but I will try some other time to get a better photo of it. Word count: none it is art.

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Title: Benevolent Overlord Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K1 - Bucky Bear Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Fluff, PTSD, Codependency, Alpine the Cat Summary: “Hi,” Bucky says, wincing a little at how hoarse and rough his voice sounds from disuse. The kitten just hisses at him again, huge green eyes narrowed into slits. “Yeah, I get it,” he agrees with a grimace and a commiserating nod. Word count: 4921

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Title: I'm James Buchanan Barnes Collaborator(s): e_hytes Link: Tumblr Square: C2 - Art Style: Black and White Rating: Gen Ship(s): No pairing/ship Major tags/warnings: #buckybarnes #wintersoldier #jamesbuchananbarnes #mcu Summary: A drawing of Bucky/Winter Soldier black and white Word count: N/A

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Title: Someone Like You Collaborator(s): Nicnac Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Prison Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Reader Major tags/warnings: Enemies, Uneasy Allies, Hydra Agent Reader, Negotiations Summary: Taken from their SHIELD prison cell, the reader finds themself alone with The Winter Soldier negotiating for their life. Word count: 2693

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Title: Sambucky Incorrect Quotes Collaborator(s): snowstark Link: Tumblr Square: U2 - Partner-In-Crime Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Enemies to lovers vibe, Humour Summary: “Bucky, we tried things your way already.” “No we didn’t.” “I did it in my head and it didn’t work.” Word count: N/A

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Title: darling, you’re the one i want in paper rings Collaborator(s): cyanica Link: AO3 Square: C5 - teasing Rating: Gen Ship(s): steve/bucky Major tags/warnings: first time, demisexuality, period-typical homophobia, fluff, friends to lovers Summary: "Okay, I don't know why I’ve never – you know!” Bucky said after a moment, a soft laugh spilling from his lips – something so genuine and bashful, that Steve wasn’t so sure what to make of. “You're just – you're the only one I've ever had eyes for. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted.” Or, whatever deity had constructed the fragmented pieces of their souls together, they were made of the same smithereens, and Steve was sure he had known that as a child, holding Bucky’s slightly larger hand and accepting that they were of the same love, without even knowing what such a concept was. Word count: 1630

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Title: Unexpected Alliances - Chapter 4 Collaborator(s): PoliZ Link: AO3 Square: C5 - Lending a Hand Rating: Mature Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy AU, enemies to friends/lovers, referenced/implied torture Summary: Buckthorn’s refusal to use his fae magic to support his captor’s cause has left him battered and broken; when he is given a dangerous shifter as his cellmate, they overcome their differences to become allies and perhaps something more. Chapter 4: Upon reaching the shifters’ camp, Buckthorn meets another of Stephen’s companions who seems to have a chip on his shoulder when it comes to fae folk. Word count: 1034

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Title: A Story Told in Flesh, Chapter 3: Together In Dreams Collaborator(s): ChrissiHR Link: AO3 Square: B2 - Rocket Racoon Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky x Darcy x Steve Major tags/warnings: Big Swingin’ Dick!Steve, smut, nsfw, dream sex, sex positive Summary: Bucky and Darcy get massages and discuss Aesir medical treatments; Darcy has an erotic dream about Bucky & Steve. Word count: 1270

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Title: Written In The Scars (On My Heart) Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Just Do It Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Past Rape/Non-con, In Heat (but not A/B/O) Masturbation, Sex Toys, Mildly Dubious Consent, Body Worship, Self Body Worship, Rimming, Fuck Or Die (sort of), Porn with Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Inability to Orgasm, Body Image, Reference to Past Medical Experimentation, Self-Lubrication, Touch-Starved, Touch-Averse Summary: He swallows hard, struggling with himself one last time and losing. “I need your help,” he manages to whisper, voice cracking. The air in the room immediately changes. The wound up tension drains out of Steve, his posture and voice going soft. “Sure, Buck,” he says, cautiously moving back toward him. Bucky can’t move, his arms locked tight around his knees, and he can’t lift his gaze higher than Steve’s knees either. Steve pauses when he’s still a few feet away, squatting down and angling his head in an effort to see Bucky’s face through the curtain of his hair. “Anything. What do you need?” It’s everything Bucky can do to hold still, every cell in his body vibrating with the need to throw himself into Steve’s arms. He opens his mouth, but his throat sticks and he has to swallow again before he can force the words out. Slowly, by sheer force of will, he drags his gaze up to meet Steve’s eyes. “I need you to fuck me.” Word count: 41k

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Title: Acceptance is the first part of Healing Collaborator(s): Laevateinn Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Denial Rating: Teen Ship(s): N/A Major tags/warnings: 1e3 : Power Broker, TFATWS coda, TW for : implied sexual abuse/assault, dissociation, PTSD, flashbacks, Angst, hopeful(ish) ending Summary: "You good ?" Wilson asks him, after he fought against eight men. "You okay ?" Wilson asks him, when they get to Sharon’s house. "You hurt ?" Wilson asks him, when they get out of the car. Yes, Wilson. All good. Now if the guy could shut up and carry on, that'd be great. Why would he be "not fine" anyway ? It's not as if anything that happened that day hasn't happened before. Word count: 906

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Moodboard) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: Tumblr Square: B3 - Labyrinth Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Thor, Cocktail, Labyrinth Summary: Something, something, Thor spikes the punch at the party and they all decide to re enact the Maze Runner… or something like that. Sam and Bucky wake up in the middle of a maze, nothing but Darcy’s voice in their ear giving them directions and critiquing their methodology Word count: N/A

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Fic) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: AO3 Square: C1 - Stranded Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Thor's Asgardian Booze, a labyrinth, Dubious Timeline, Everybody Lives, Crack Summary: Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. Word count: 1657

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Title: 5 Times Steve Received Plums from Natasha or Sam and the 1 Time Steve Realized the Plums weren’t from Them Collaborator(s): Girl_Back_There Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Bucky/Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Major tags/warnings: 5 + 1, Bucky and his Plums, Angst and Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug Summary: Steve keeps finding plums in his hotel rooms or his bag. He thinks it is Natasha or Sam trying to be a good friend by making sure he is eating and keeping up his energy in the search for Bucky. Each plum he finds reminds him of Bucky growing up in pre-WWII New York. The times they would give each other a plum as a way of saying “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Word count: 2998

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Title: Faith and Desire and the Swing of Your Hips Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: U2 - French Kiss Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Crossdressing, Nonbinary Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, Body Dysphoria, Gender Exploration, Supportive Flirting Summary: “You look gorgeous, doll,” he drawls, dragging up as much of old Brooklyn as he can to infuse into the words. Steve startles, even though the doorway and Bucky in it are clearly reflected behind him in the mirror. Steve’s eyes flick to him and away again, his face going pink from the tips of his ears and spreading all the way down to his chest. He fidgets with his skirt, hands smoothing over the folds of it self consciously. “It looks a little silly,” he mutters, chewing on his already chapped lower lip. Word count: 5470

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Title: Stay Collaborator(s): Bird/plutosrose Link: AO3 Square: C3 - Free Square Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Post-Canon, First Time Summary: “So, are you keeping the outfit?” Word count: 1919

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Title: It's Not a Miracle You Need Collaborator(s): UisceOneLove Link: AO3 Square: Y3 - At a Crossroads Rating: Teen Ship(s): James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Post-Endgame, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending Summary: Sitting out on the dock of Tony's lakehouse while the others slept, Steve thought about where he was expected to go from here. It's a good thing Bucky's around to help him see where that can be. Word count: 1584

#buckybarnesbingo2021 #bbb2021 #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 6 #bbb round three

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maine-writes · 3 years

Text

Vonvon's Time Vacation: Part III, Winter Wonderland

Every travel brochure that features a beautiful hotel in the midst of an idyllic alpine paradise always like to emphasize the majesty of the great outdoors, the serenity of being far away from the chaos of metropolis, but all without leaving behind the conveniences and modernizations of today. Imagine taking a vacation in a tropical paradise, ostensibly to live the "island way", but with high-speed internet, cable, and a nearby familiar fast-food joint or coffee shop.

But always seem to fail to mention very obvious limitations and risks.

Such as weather.

Or the ever so rare "Trapped in a the middle of nowhere with a madman" situation that only really applies to hotels in the middle of nowhere and Airbnb.

Vonvon hurriedly scurried down a twisting hallway, flanked by storage cages made of slats of wood, locked by simply latches and a padlock. Their shoes squeaked on the cold concrete floors as they clumsily ran, occasionally glancing back down toward the other end of the hall. The grey lights of the hall flickered and buzzed, some dying entirely.

"Oh, Vonvoooonnn..." hissed a low, raspy voice. "Where are youuu?"

The child ducked around a corner, their back against the wood, clasping their mouth shut with their hand as they struggled to catch their breath. In their eyes, the dim glimmer of absolute fear.

As they peeked around the corner, peering down the hall, they saw a form slither out from the edge of the far turn.

It was a googly-eyed sock puppet, a demented smile scribbled on with red marker.

"I see you Vonnie," said the puppet, "You can't hide from me. I can hear your breath. I can smell your fear."

Vonvon scrambled to get away, running deeper into the darkest bowels of the basement. But how did they end up in this situation? How did a crazed killer get into the hotel?

It was around three in the afternoon, everyone had returned to a banquet room adjacent to the ballroom, where a staff of servers worked tirelessly to deliver their meals to them. Tonight, they were served a plate of beef bourguignon on top of garlic mashed potatoes. For dessert, they had an eggy flan with a topping of sweet, sticky caramel. Interestingly, the staff were rather short, a squat team of mostly identical looking oddballs who all seemed to be a bit dim. One notable server wore an eyepatch.

Vonvon looked around at all the empty tables, realizing that their party were the only guests in that evening. A troubling revelation when vacation.

They were just about halfway through their dessert when the lights suddenly died, only the dim afternoon light from the windows illuminating the room.

"I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen." Said the tall front desk agent as she walked through the door. "It seems the storm has knocked out our electricity. We have a backup generator on standby, but until main power is back online, we will have to limit electrical use."

With a groan, Vonvon's party dragged their feet back to their rooms.

Vonvon flipped through the channels in their room's television set, all with the same program: static.

"Von, they said we need to limit electric use." Connie said, turning off the TV. "I'd rather not lose power to the lights early. Or heat."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Vonvon groaned. "Some vacation this is turning out to be."

"I'm sure they'll get the power back on soon."

Then there was a knock at the door. It was Sour Cream, peeking his head in.

"Hey, you guys seen my brother?"

Another instance of Onion wandering off to stave off the boredom. Another problem to add onto the load. To help in the search, Buck, Sadie, Jenny, and Lars joined him, and now to see if either Connie or Vonvon were up for it.

"We'll stay with Steven." Connie said, "Where is he?"

"He's in his room." Jenny replied, "I think he's a bit down."

"Ok, good luck guys."

As the group went down the hall, ready for the arduous task of searching for Onion, Connie and Vonvon gathered some blankets and pillows to take to Steven's room.

"You really think a pillow fort will cheer him up?" Vonvon inquired, a stack of pillows in hand.

"Are you kidding?" Connie laughed, "He'll love it!"

"Anything to get his mind off of it, huh?"

But as Connie raised her hand to knock, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a darkness within, illuminated by the flickering light of the TV set.

"Steven?" Connie said, finding no sign of him anywhere. "We brought pillows and blankets, thought we'd make a fort."

But the only thing in the room was a sock puppet, googly-eyes glued on, lying in front of the TV.

"Ok, this is weird." Vonvon said.

"Yeah, you stay here. I'll go find him."

Vonvon was now alone in a cold, dark room, accompanied only by a sock puppet. Nothing good can come of this.

Creeped out by the noise of the static, they turned off the TV and reached for the light switch. But when the lights flipped on, they were not greeted by a warm glow, but by sinister, blood-red light. They looked around the room in horror as they saw the mad rabblings of a crazed psychopath scribbed on the walls, revealed by the crimson glow.

No play makes a boy bored.

Written again and again and again and again and again and again on every surface, on the mirror, on the painting, on the mattress, and spiraling on the ceiling.

As Vonvon recoiled in horror, they looked at the TV, realizing that the sock puppet that was once there, was there no longer.

"Vonvon..." hissed a voice in the walls. "Want to play a game?"

And that's how they ended up in the basement, running for their life.

"Ok, obviously Dad is stressed out." Vonvon said to themself, "Maybe he just needs a hug."

"Vonnie..." said the sinister sock. "I plan to get under your skin..."

"No hug, no hug!"

Then they came upon a fork in the hall, one leading to darkness, the other to a doorway. They chose to risk it with the door.

As they slammed the door behind them, they turned to find themself trapped in the laundry room. On the far wall, there were large machines, baskets of linen and uniforms, and a cart of cleaning supplies. Above it were a series of windows, but too small for them to crawl through.

"Vonnieeeeee..."

Vonvon pressed their ear against the wooden door, listening as heavy footsteps drifted away. A sigh of relief escaped their lungs.

Then came a loud bang against the door, shaking its hinges, and Vonvon's sigh turned into a scream.

Then came another, and another, with each strike, the child screamed in fear.

"This door's pretty solid." panted the madman, gasping for air.

"I think it's oak." Vonvon sobbed.

"Then I guess I'll just have to huff and puff on this one then."

Vonvon could hear their pursuer take a step back, winding up for a mighty swing. They withdrew from the door as an axehead chopped through the wood, screaming in terror.

Peering in through the door was the puppet, an axe beside it.

"HERE'S COOKY!"

The child backed up toward the washing machines, pulling down tables and throwing baskets of clothes and fabrics on the floor in a vain attempt to make some sort of barrier or obstruction.

They then looked up at the windows, seeing the Garnet lookalike talking on a cellphone.

"Garnet!" Vonvon screamed, "Help me! Help me!"

But all she did, seeing the child waving their arms in distress, was wave back with a smile and return to her call.

Then Vonvon remembered that they had a cellphone.

"Right, stupid scared brain!"

They quickly went through their contacts, finding Pearl's cellphone number and called.

"Pearl's phone, Garnet speaking." responded a familiar voice.

"Garnet!" Vonvon screamed, "Get down here! Your disguises suck and Dad's gone berserk! Why'd you build a whole fountain with badly disguised statues?!"

"We're in the Caribbean." Garnet stated to Vonvon's disbelief. "We thought since you guys are on vacation, we should go on one too. Amethyst rode a shark."

Vonvon looked up through the window, watching the Garnet lookalike finish up her call before walking off.

"Tell Steven we said hi." Said Garnet, Lapis and Peridot laughing loudly in the background. "And don't forget, little kids shouldn't play in laundry rooms. There are exactly 47 ways to die in those rooms."

"Yeah, and I'm in Number 47!" Vonvon yelled into the phone, "Killed by crazed Dad!"

"Vonvon, don't be silly." Garnet said. "47 is Killed by Angry Ghost. Crazed Dad is number 4."

Then she hung up.

Out of options and out of luck, Vonvon threw their phone aside, brandishing a nearby brush as a weapon.

"Back off!" Vonvon yelled, failing to be intimidating, "I have a deadly brush!"

With one final push, the door came crashing down, splintering as it hit the concrete floor. Standing in the doorway was Vonvon's relentless pursuer; Onion, the sock puppet in hand.

"ONION!!!"

"He's such a handful sometimes, isn't he?" Jenny said. "Wandering off like that."

"Sour Cream thought he went to the maze out there and got lost." Buck added, pointing at a shivering Sour Cream wrapped in bundles of blankets, his feet soaking in a bucket of warm water. "Took hours for us to find him."

"Why didn't you come to the pool?" Steven asked, "One of the staff came by after you left and said they were going to keep it heated for us if we wanted to use it."

"Hey, I want to go to the pool." Sadie said.

"That sounds like a fun time." Lars agreed, "I think we can get bathing suits through my head if Lion's with the Gems."

Vonvon was tired. They sipped quietly at a juicebox, reflecting on the traumatic events that transpired. To think, this is what Onion was like as a child. The mild mannered young man they know in the future is the exact opposite of this strange boy.

"So Vonvon," Connie began, "What do you want to do now?"

The child thought about it, not for long though. There was one thing on their mind since the time they thought they were going to die.

"Think the kitchen can make me a burger?"

@artsycooky13

#the end of our strange story #steven universe #vonvon #fanfiction

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buckyreaderrecs · 4 years

Text

So Far Away: Chapter 5/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!)

First chapter in series. Previous chapter.

Chapter 5: It’s time to find your family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot, Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety and PTSD, major triggers for death of loved ones and grief, chapter 5 only possible trigger for food

Note: Please heed the warnings for this chapter; it’s a bit intense. As always, I’d love to know what you think. xo Rhi

So Far Away Chapter 5/?

The first night you'd spent at Stark Tower was forgettable in the sense that you had completely forgotten most of it. Vaguely, there was a bath, and Bucky, then bed. That was pretty much it though. So, it wasn't like the day after needed to do anything particularly special to be considered memorable. And yet, it was.

As Bucky put all the Mexican food trash into the paper Ubereats bag, you flicked through channels on television.

"Have you seen this?" you asked, stopping on Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

"I know, I know! I don't know shit about anything, but in my defence, I've been busy helpin' to save the world since I've been… good," Bucky replied, highly defensive but also still in good humour.

"Um… I just meant, 'cause it's a super underrated Disney movie. And nobody's seen it, like Hercules," you told him, holding back a grin.

"Oh… Sorry. Sam's always yelling at me," he explained, throwing the Ubereats bag in the bin and walking back over the couch from the kitchenette.

"About movies?"

"About everything," he said, rubbing his face. "He's cut up about me missing, like, all of hip-hop."

It made you laugh, which motivated Bucky to continue his bitching about Sam Wilson. "And! He thinks me and Steve should have more 'refined taste' in everything." He used air quotation marks, which Natasha Romanoff had taught him to use, much to the dismay of Steve. ("Captain America.")

"Refined taste?"

"Yeah, basically he loses it when he we like anythin' he thinks is bad. Like…" Bucky cycled through his list of favourite things. "The Fast and the Furious movies."

An image flashed in your mind of Steve and Bucky, completely decked out in their respective gear, marathoning the films, cheering at every car stunt and use of the NOS button. It made you smile, genuinely happy.

Bucky continues, "They ain't my favourite or anythin', but they're fun, ya know? He's probably just upset that whenever we get in car races it's mostly someone trying to kill us,"

"I guess that's… fair, but he's… The Falcon… that's super cool?"

Bucky grinned, but quickly shook his head. "Don't ever tell him you said that, okay? Never tell Sam you think he's cool,"

"Is it like feeding Gremlins after midnight?" you asked.

"I watched that one! And, yeah. It's exactly like that,"

"But it's not like you guys don't get to see cool things… and be cool,"

"I guess… We're used to it?" Bucky thought for a second or two, wriggled into the couch and rested his arm along the back of it. You turned to face him, legs crossed and entirely attentive. "Before the war I loved reading about what new gadgets were comin' out. Used to drag Steve to anything with tech stuff. But then, Hydra. I wasn't really conscious enough to realise I was in the future," he told you, chuckling a little to himself like it was funny. It was so nonchalant that it shocked you a little. He hadn't stuttered saying their name, or shifted to a darker mood. "Whenever I got re-programmed, I was re-trained too. Whatever advancements they made, I learnt. Meant when Shuri fixed my head up, I wasn't that inept. Got it a lot easier than Steve that way,"

"Just movies and T.V. and stuff that you missed then?" you asked, feeling like you needed to keep him talking because you'd never heard anything so goddamn interesting.

"Yeah. Hydra didn't exactly have a Netflix subscription for me," he said. You said nothing. "That was a joke. You can laugh," Bucky told you, softly nudging your knee.

"I don't know how you joke about it," you said honestly.

He shrugged. "You'll joke about all this too, one day," he replied.

No. No, I won't.

Bucky saw the conflict flash across you face.

"It's not like there isn't things that still blow my mind… Wakanda, for one," he continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Is it as cool as it looks on T.V.?"

"Cooler. It's gotta be one of my favourite places. And when I met Wanda… She thought I was a bit of a meatball. Never met anyone with powers like hers, you know? She's amazing. And Vision. Still don't really get what he's about,"

"So, you are friends with Wanda Maximoff but you think Vin Diesel is cool?" you asked, affronted.

Bucky laughed. "No. I think the cars are cool. The stunts! Vin Diesel seems like a jerk."

Another image flashed. Someone in the world, Vin Diesel, knowing that The Winter Soldier thought he was a bit of jerk.

Bucky watched you laugh.

"Come on, then. What's this one about?" he asked, turning back to the television.

"Atlantis-"

"Underwater city? I'm in."

That's about where you realised that Bucky Barnes was a massive nerd.

It took Bucky ten minutes to tell you that you needed to keep warm, putting the knitted blanket over you. It took twenty to have him scoot closer to you, his arm still on the back of the couch, behind your head. About half an hour in, Bucky said, "Yeah, this is better than Snow White. I love this little mole guy."

Bucky was watching, listening for any signs that the lack of conversation had given you time to think, to spiral. But, it hadn't. Atlantis was a comfort movie for you, a distraction. He could see you smile and frown along with the characters.

"It was pretty obvious that this was gonna happen," Bucky said at the high point of the plot twist. He was aiming for a reaction. You looked at him fast and dramatic. "I'm good at picking the bad guys. Kinda my job."

At the rolling of the credits, Bucky asked, "Ice cream?"

As he put a collection of Ben and Jerry's on the counter top, Bucky caught himself in a sudden realisation. He was keeping you busy. Eventually, you'd notice, or the day would carry on and bedtime would come; the quietness between 'goodnight' and sleep would crush you, pushing from you anxiety and grief. But first, Bucky thought, ice cream.

"Half Baked," you said. Bucky handed you the pint and a spoon.

You watched him open the Strawberry Cheesecake, Cherry Garcia, and Urban Bourbon. "Variety is the spice of life," he said grinning, his voice a strange mocking tone, like he was parroting someone you'd never met.

"I genuinely don't know where all that food goes,"

"In here," he answered, lifting his shirt and patting his tummy.

"Yeah, but like, do you have one of those trash compactor things that mooshes it all down super small?"

Bucky laughed. "Maybe. Who knows what's going on inside 'ere."

You were sitting on a bar stool, leaning against the kitchenette's counter. Bucky put the spoons in the dishwasher and the uneaten ice cream away. He liked things in their place, you noted.

"So," he said, too casually. It felt, correctly, like a lead up. "How are you feeling?"

"Full," you answered, honest, but also not really.

Bucky looked at you, nodded. "What else?"

You dropped your gaze, breaking eye contact. A nervousness grew in you, the gatekeeper to all the bad. It was telling you to flee - answering the question wouldn't be nice. You could tell that Bucky wouldn't change the subject though. He could wait in that silence all day for you to speak.

"I…" you began. "I don't know. There's just… a lot,"

"Yeah. That makes sense. There is a lot… Probably good to start telling me about it." When you said nothing to that, he added, "Or someone else. We can-"

"I feel guilty," you blurted out, partly to stop him suggesting you talk to anyone else, partly because the gate was opening and the guilt as behind it in abundance. Bucky nodded like he already knew what you were going to say, and what you meant. "I… I'm here. Where I'm more than safe," you said, looking around at the suite. "But I haven't done anything to deserve it-" Bucky went to say something but stopped himself. "I'm not the most hurt, or the most useful person to save or anything like that. And then, I haven’t even looked-" That was it. The tears began to stream down your face, heavy and hot. You could feel them pooling in your shirt somewhere. The sentence you started was lost, completely drowned out by sobs.

Bucky remained composed. He fetched tissues from the bathroom, took it upon himself to clear your face, ready for the next wave. It arrived immediately. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling you into him. There would be wetness and snot all over his hoodie when you would eventually move, but you didn’t think of that in the moment and Bucky really didn’t care. He stood between your legs, rocking you gently on the stool for a minute before you spoke again.

"I haven't even looked for anybody," you said, so softly and so painfully that even priests in confessional booths would have hung their heads.

"How could you?" Bucky asked.

During the time before his head was really put back together, that is what everyone did with him. They challenged Bucky's questions, forced logic on him, rending much of the harmful conclusions he'd drawn about himself incorrect. It was a good strategy and he'd learned it well.

You half shrugged and kept crying. A cycle had begun in your mind. You were crying because you felt guilty, but that made you feel selfish and stupid. You thought you should be crying for other people. All of that, of course, made you feel more guilty, starting the cycle all over again. But maybe that cycle was easier to loop on than any real feelings of grief and loss.

"When were ya meant to have time to find people? Couldn't do it in the refuge centre. Too much goin’ on. And your hand was smashed, probably killin' you. And like Doc said - in shock," he said, paused, waited for a response.

Bucky's hands were moving up and down your back with enough pressure to calm you sobs into softer hiccups and sniffles.

"Yeah?" Bucky prompted. You nodded and shrugged simultaneously. "Okay, so, couldn't have done it on the way here or last night. You were exhausted. Could hardly keep yourself upright. Ain't much use to anybody like that."

You covered your nose with a tissue and sat up. Even if he didn't care, you didn't want him to see you with a face covered in snot. Bucky had the tact to look away while he continued. You listened as you wiped your face clean.

"This morning, whisked ya away to Medical. Then force fed you some food. And now, we're here. So, if you're asking me, darlin', not too sure when you think you were meant to do all this people finding, you know?"

Bucky could see it in your face that you knew he was right. When you nodded, saying, "I guess," he felt completely victorious.

You drank the glass of water Bucky poured for you, then took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three.

"Okay," you said, voice almost normal.

"Okay," he repeated in solidarity.

"Can we find them now?"

…

The room was definitely not for civilians, but nobody stopped Bucky from walking in with you. It was a buzzing hub of activity and urgency. Voices spoke fast, people moved faster.

"It's kind of like a command centre," Bucky tried to explain. "Whenever there's a threat, we have a response team that do… I guess what would happen if there was an earthquake or somethin'. Search and rescue. Coordinating relief."

You nodded and stayed close to Bucky's side, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

"Sergeant Barnes," a very tired woman greeted.

"Hey. I'm really sorry to-"

"No time for that. What can we do for you?" she cut him off.

"Finding people that were in the attack zone," he replied.

"Everything we know, F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows. Integrated systems. Find a computer, preferably not in here, and ask her. Anything else?"

"No. Thank-" but she was gone.

Bucky hooked an arm around your waist and walked you back to the elevator.

"She was amazing," you said.

Bucky grinned. "Never met her before, but yeah, lot of people like that around here."

On a floor of the tower that was much calmer, Bucky and you sat in what you supposed was some sort of crazy high-tech boardroom.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"James,"

"Oh, it's James now?"

"Yes. How can I be of assistance?"

The first step was making a list of everyone you knew who lived or worked in the part of D.C. that was affected. You named them, confirmed through social media accounts and DMV records.

"Do you guys have access to, like, everything?" you asked Bucky.

"Probably shouldn't answer that," Bucky replied, winking.

Step two was all F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I work fast, but I'd like to check my work, Y/N," she told you.

"If you can, can you check with-" Bucky went to ask.

"First responder reports?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked.

"Must be the day for being cut off by women smarter than me, huh?"

"I could be mistaken, James, but isn't that every day?"

Bucky laughed, looked at you for back up, but saw you staring at screen in front of you. The list of names.

Once you'd actually made it, you realised there were likely less people to find than you first though. Your housemate, Lucas, was a bike courier. He may have been out of the zone, 50/50 chance. Elizabeth, your best friend, lived on the next block over. She was home when the attack happened. You were watching her Instagram live; she was feeding her pet snake, Salem. Then, the girls at the hole in the wall café you worked at, Glory. You didn't know who was shift, so you listed all five.

There were more, but felt like naming everyone you knew would be greedy somehow. Bucky said, when you were ready, you could look through the list of the deceased. Even hearing the phrase made you feel sick though.

"Do you want to wait here?" Bucky asked.

You turned to him, ran your hands through your hair. "I don't know… I can't…" but whatever you couldn’t, you couldn’t even articulate.

Bucky nodded. "How about we get some fresh air? When we get back, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will have something for us?"

…

Out on the street, everything was loud. The whole back-in-reality thing really took you off guard. Seeing the city from the top of the Tower was different to this.

"I got ya," Bucky said, coming to walk right by your side. You looked over at him, and he offered his hand. You immediately accepted.

As you walked by multiple cafés, you wondered if Bucky had a favourite, or maybe there was a secret superhero club behind a hidden door in an inconspicuous bodega or Chinese restaurant. Alas, earwax - no such luck. Bucky held the door of a standard looking café open.

The guy behind the coffee machine nodded. "Buck,"

"Hey, Gee,"

"Seen ya's all on the news. Everyone okay?" Gee the barista asked, the genuine concern evident in his tone and expression.

"Ah, yeah. You know - nothing they can't handle," Bucky replied; you suspected it was the party line.

"Good, good. What can we get for ya then?"

"Don't worry about it, bud. I'll jump in line."

Gee shook his head and smiled as Bucky took his place in the queue to order. "You wanna grab a table? Or wait with me?" he asked you.

"Stay," you replied, stepping closer to him.

While you held your body in a way that shielded your broken bones from people's paths, it was easy being close to Bucky. He was probably very accustomed to being around the injured, so never accidentally hit the cast. You were grateful.

Bucky reached out and curled hair behind your ears, then leaned in to kiss the top of your nose. It was intimate, and brought solace. It was also very public; as he moved away, started greeting the girl at the counter, you realised there were more than a few pairs of eyes on you. Turning from the room, you stood closer to Bucky and listened to their conversation.

"You know I can't tell you that," Bucky said, leaning against the counter like he owned it.

"But, like, it's over, right? We won?"

"Tiff, would I be standing here if there was something else I could be doing?"

Tiff nodded, made a face like she'd been let in on a state secret. "Hmmm," she pondered for a second. Then, with pep, "So, the usual then? For one of Earth's mightiest heroes?"

Bucky rolled his eyes at her. "I hate you," he joked before looking at you. "What will it be?"

You hadn't really thought as far as ordering. Already feeling self-conscious and spaced out, the burning in your cheeks was getting hotter.

"Thinking maybe a pot of tea to share?" Bucky suggested, casual, but also sending you a quick wink - he was saving you again.

"Tea's great," you said.

After ordering, Bucky chose a couple of oversized armchairs by the window to sit in. He let you breathe, let you stare through the glass and people watch for a long time. He answered messages on his phone, checked in with Steve while you daydreamed. So deep in thought, or maybe just completely zoned out, you didn't even notice Bucky had made a call, or that the pot of tea had been placed on the small table between you.

Bucky said your name, but you failed to move. He reached out, tapped a knuckle against your knee. You gasped, felt your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry!" he said immediately. "Didn’t mean to scare you…"

"No, it's alright. I'm just… um,"

"You're alright, darlin'. How do you take your tea?"

It was a simple enough question, but you looked down at the table like it was all alien.

"Maybe you can make your own," Bucky said, pushing the tea tray closer to you. "Give you something to focus on. Bring you back down to earth."

…

Although you were hardly touching your tea or the cookies the staff brought over as a gift, Bucky let you sit for much longer than what anyone normally would. It was starting to get dark, the café closing around you, when you finally seemed to become aware of the rest of the world again.

"Oh. Should we go?"

"Sure," Bucky replied, standing and holding his hand out again.

After thanking everyone, you were out in the city, walking back to the Tower.

The silence that existed between you and Bucky was a comfortable one, but the closer you got to your destination, the more nervous you felt. Something in your mind snapped, told you to try to be normal. So, you started to talk. Fast. And a lot.

"Do you all go there? Like, the Avengers? It was nice. They really like you. The cookies were good-"

Bucky cut in, stopping you more than actually wanting to answer. "It's easier to go to the same places. The novelty of us eventually wears off," he told you.

"Yeah, people don't really stop staring, do they? Must get tiring, having everyone watch you all the time. And treat you different." You internally begged yourself to shut the fuck up.

"Guess I don't really know what 'normal' would be… Don't like people giving me free stuff all the time though. Don't need it. Not really a skip-the-line type of guy," he said.

You wondered how much charity he needed after Steve brought him back into the fold. Instead of asking about that, you thankfully went with, "Must be nice sometimes though?"

Bucky thought for a second. It was one of the changes in personality he experienced after Hydra. Bucky in the 30s and early 40s was a little bit of an attention seeker, a true lover of the limelight. Not so much anymore. He thought of you then - how you'd considered him to be a hero, and how you had needed him. How you still needed him.

"Maybe there's a couple perks."

You nodded, went quiet again. Bucky noticed that you switched between that frantic, almost manic state and scary quiet a fair bit. He rolled with it, a little notorious for the odd mood swing himself.

It was in the elevator of Stark Tower that you started to get jittery. The palms of your hands started to sweat, but Bucky didn't let go. He also tried to not seem like all of his attention was fixated on you, but it was. When he took you back to his suite, rather than the crazy high-tech boardroom, he thought about explaining why, but figured it wasn't one of the main things on your mind.

Sitting on the couch in the same place you'd eaten burritos for brunch, you pulled the knitted blanket back over yourself.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, sitting down next to you and putting a glass of water and box of tissues on the coffee table. You nodded. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., how'd you go?"

You felt sick, real deep down in your stomach. It was a pushing force, making you hot and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the blanket was too heavy and you pushed it away with a weird anger.

Bucky wanted to hold you, but he knew the sensation of feeling trapped by grief. He gave you space and braced himself for what was about to hit you.

"I'm not sure what the best order to deliver this is," F.R.I.D.A.Y. admitted. She knew the limits of her programmed humanity, and it was probably the most impressive thing about her.

"Good news first," Bucky said.

"I've located Lucas and Elizabeth. Lucas is currently residing in an apartment just outside the affected zone. It belongs to a Jacob Short,"

"That's his boyfriend's dad," you said, nodding to yourself. Lucas was safe.

"Elizabeth is currently admitted to Howard University Hospital. She has a broken clavicle and humerus, and damage to the glenohumeral joint - all to her right side. She is in stable condition."

You breathed out hard, then took a tissue to your face. You'd not even noticed that you'd started to cry.

"Glory was destroyed," F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued.

That's when you looked up from the patch of floor you'd been staring at. On the screen of the television, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been showing you relevant things - the Facebook status geotagging Lucas at his boyfriend's family home, the rental agreement that showed who lived at that address, Elizabeth's medical records, even security footage of her in the hospital.

You shouldn't have looked up.

For a moment, Bucky didn't understand why your breathing had all but stopped. Average people don't get a slideshow to accompany their bad news. He looked at the screen. A photo, then another, showed the entire building Glory was a part of reduced to rubble.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., maybe we don't need the show with the tell," Bucky said.

"No!" you yelled. "I need to see."

If there was information, visual or verbal, you needed it.

"I logged into WorkForce using your credentials to view the roster. Two people were working at the time of the attacks: Carly Underwood and Ellie Gilbert," F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. Before she said it, you knew it. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Both have been put on the list of deceased. Carly has been identified officially. Ellie is pending, but using our facial recognition and matching, I can confirm it's her."

You stood up, ripping the hoodie you were wearing off. If it was too hot before, now you felt like you were made of lava.

Bucky watched you start to pace. Your expression was alarmingly flat.

"The rest of your co-workers are safe. Only a Tara Constantine was in the affected area. She was on a bus moved to safety by Peter Parker."

There was footage taken from somebody's phone of Spiderman saving bus and carloads of people.

"I used your social media accounts to create an index of known people. As far as I can tell, you do not directly know anyone else on the list of deceased."

The phrase was still making you feel sick.

Bucky mistook that as F.R.I.D.A.Y. being finished. He thanked her, asked her to keep him updated if anything changed.

"Sorry, Sergeant. There's more."

Both you and Bucky went still. What else could there be?

"Your parents, Y/N,"

"They live on the other side of the city. Probably worried about me, right?" You turned to the screen, expected to see a worried Facebook posted asking if anyone had seen you. How could telling them you were safe not be your first thought? Stupid. Selfish.

On the screen was a grainy traffic cam photo of your parents driving. It was time and date stamped.

"They're fine," you said.

"Y/N, I'm sorry… Your parents aren't on the list of deceased-"

"Yeah, because they're fine!"

Suddenly, you remembered you did call them. You were still in the refuge centre, and it took you an hour to find someone with a phone willing to share. First, you called your dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Your mum didn't pick up. Only a month before, they'd had the landline switched off. How did you forget calling?

"But using street surveillance, I tracked their car into the affected zone. They got caught in the attack-"

"No. No. They hate that part of town. I didn't even move in that long ago and they already hate it. There's no reason for them to be there," you said, angry. No reason… except you.

"I checked through unidentified photographs-" she tried to continue, her voice noticeably more robotic than Bucky had ever heard it. He was grateful to have her then.

"The what?" you asked, confused and flustered and still feeling so fucking sick.

Bucky sighed, figured he should explain that one. "It's the same as natural disasters… When they find bodies, move them to try to identify them, they make a catalogue of photos to help. F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s saying she checked through them,"

"So? They're fine,"

"Our facial recognition and matching have a 100% accuracy record, but… I could be wrong," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Bucky knew she wasn't, and was discomforted by her attempt at gentleness.

"Wrong about what?" you spat, already knowing.

"I believe your parents have passed away,"

"Show me," you said.

"Y/N, I-" from Bucky.

"Show me!" you yelled, moving to the screen, standing so close you swore you could feel the electricity buzzing from it.

The photographs from traffic cams were still up, static. You stared them down, waiting.

Bucky walked to you, stood behind you, held his breath.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't speak again. She showed you all the photos of your parents she had found to base her conclusion on. The reach of her skills became apparent and terrifying. There was no way she and everything she could do, was legal. As photos from private accounts, devices, and websites flashed up, along with dozens from the DMV and work place IDs, you felt all the heat you'd brewed up drain from you.

Your body began to meltdown - you needed to pee, your mouth went dry, and earaches formed out of nowhere. It felt like you were being stabbed in the lower back. None of it made sense.

The screen went still again.

"Show me," you said once more.

Two overexposed photographs appeared on screen. Both were framed similarly - head shots of undeniably dead people. Also undeniable was the fact that they were the corpses of your parents.

"Turn it off," Bucky said.

The screen went black but you didn't look away. As long as you stayed there staring, the image wouldn't fade. You could see them in your mind. You could see the indent in your father's head, skull visible. You could see the blood on your mother’s face. Tape held their eyelids closed.

"Y/N," Bucky whispered, standing close. He waited for a response. Time was ticking by excruciatingly slowly. "Y/N, I'm gonna help you to bed," he said, but you flinched, so he stopped moving towards you. "Okay… That's okay. You can stay-" but before he could end the sentence with 'here,' you screamed out a guttural cry that mutated into sobbing.

Very quickly for Bucky then, time sped up again. It was moving too fast though. Your legs gave up, and he caught you only just before hitting the floor. You crawled out of his arms, along the floor, dry heaving between sobs and yelped of pain as you ignored the fact one hand was crushed. In the couple of seconds it took him to work out if you were going to throw up, you did. You puked all the Mexican and tea you'd had, then continued to crawl, making it close enough to a wall that you could lay on your side and lean against it.

Bucky knelt in front of you, tried to pull your hair into the tie that was usually around his wrist. Once successful, he went to retrieve a cold, wet wash cloth. He wiped your face but gave up when the sobbing seemed to get louder. He could make out words sometimes. For the most part, there was nothing coherent in your mind to articulate. You curled up into a ball, switching between deep sobs and outright screams.

Eventually, it all subsided into an even crying but you stayed in a tight ball. Bucky sat beside you, pressed close enough that he could feel each movement you made. After hours, once you'd gone quiet, Bucky whispered, "I'm gonna look after you, Y/N. Promise."

Chapter 6 coming soon...

Tag list for So Far Away: @animegirlgeeky @howthehellisbucky @dumbubblegum @chipilerendi

Tag list for all my work: @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets (of course it doesn’t let me tag you! I’ll message you)

Tag lists are open - message me to be added.

#mine #So Far Away #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes reader insert #Marvel #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes x You

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years

Text

All Fur Coat and Skimpy Knickers

Roger’s been hard at work in the studio for weeks, and you’re starting to think he’s forgotten about you. So you hatch a plan to lure him back to the flat for a night of debauchery. Only, the pair of you get stuck in a lift together. Can you make the best of a bad situation?

Warnings: STRICTLY 18+; smut, dirty talk, blowjobs, facials, mutual masturbation, pet names (daddy and kitten!) dirty talk, lingerie, getting caught. Notes: This was a combination of requests (fur coats and lingerie; stuck in a lift and getting caught) from @sunshine112 and @bae-bee - thank you! Please note I’m not taking requests! Tags: @jennyggggrrr, @sarahgurl09, @biscuit-barrel 💖

“Dressed for a night on the town?” Roger smirked, sinking back into the couch as he eyed you up.

You shook your head, and sauntered over to him, legs wobbling with every step. Your skyscraper heels didn’t help matters. But he adored them, so you wore them.

You grasped the collar of Roger’s fur coat; you had slipped it on before you left for the studio. It smelled like him - vanilla, amber and lavender - offering a degree of comfort on your way over, along the promenade overlooking Lac Léman in Montreux, in your current getup.

But even Roger’s scent couldn’t allay the nerves you felt, straddling his lap. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” you pouted, looking him dead in the eye. Clawing at his chest like an excited kitten, you continued. “You’re always up and away so early. And you spend your nights here, or down in the casino. I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten I’m even out here.”

“Oh, Kitten,” Roger fussed, squeezing his fingertips into your thighs, “I could never forget about you.”

“Why don’t you come back to the flat for a while? Surely you need a break.”

Roger shut his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “That’s the thing. We’ve got to get this album done. And we all need to be here.”

You understood, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. “Just so you know, Daddy,” you began, unclasping the front of your coat, “this is what you’re missing.”

Roger’s mouth popped open, taking in your daring choice of outfit. Sheer black lingerie that left nothing to the imagination, complete with nylons and a garter belt - those always drove him wild.

“Like what you see?” you purred, trailing your hand from his chest to the waistband of his jeans.

Sat there, speechless and visibly stirred by the sight of you, if you had been totally alone, he might have cracked and thrown you over the mixing desk for this kind of performance. But rather, he just nodded, swallowing hard.

“Well, tough!” you hissed, clamouring to your feet. “I’ll see you when I see you, Roger.”

Charging out of the casino-cum-studio and into the wintry alpine breeze, you immediately regretted your choice of outfit. Not only did it fail to lure Roger home, but it was also much too scanty for a November night. You marched as swiftly as you could towards the other end of the promenade, back to the flat.

“Kitten - wait!” Roger shouted, rushing to catch up with you.

You turned around, thrusting out your arms as if to ask what he was playing at.

His fingers fluttered over the outsides of your arms, as he chewed his lip, trying to think of something to say to you.

“What is it, Roger?”

“I reckon I could do with a night off,” he said, a fiendish smile lurking behind his lips.

“Good to know you’ve seen sense,” you snorted, going back to your journey home with Roger hot on your heels.

The walk went in faster with Roger dawdling behind you; the promise of spending a night with him spurred you on unlike anything else. The pair of you burst into the lobby of your apartment building and bundled yourselves into the rickety old-fashioned lift. The journey to the fourth floor was wrought with excitement and nervous energy. It had been a while, after all. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Roger in your six-by-four cubicle, your hand didn’t have to search far to find his. The lift always took forever, though.

But between the second and third floor, an earsplitting creak screeched through the lift shaft as the compartment ground to a halt. That was your evening of debauchery ruined.

“Fuck,” Roger fizzed, frantically pushing the ‘call’ button.

A voice crackled across the intercom. “Bonjour? Puis-je vous aider?”

“Um…” Roger began, massaging his jaw and striving to remember some of his secondary school French. “Je suis… stuckinalift. Je ne parle pas Français. Anglais?”

“Ah! Yes, monsieur! I speak English. You’re stuck in the lift, yes?”

“Uh… oui?”

You slumped into the corner of the compartment, scowling at Roger to make him quit his broken French. “They understand you. Don’t make this worse!” you whispered.

“They might help us faster if I do this!” he replied in a hushed tone.

“I doubt that very mu-”

“Which floor, sir?”

“Deux… trois…” Roger shrugged, realising that this wasn’t going to work.

“Very well, we’ll get someone out to work on the lift as soon as we can.”

“Do you know how long it’s going to take?”

“Well, it’s quite late, sir. We can’t guarantee it’ll be fast. We’ll keep you informed.”

You and Roger leaned against opposite sides of the lift, looking each other up and down. He puffed out his cheeks. “So, what now?”

“We could make the most of it.” You shrugged Roger’s coat ever-so-slightly down your shoulders, exposing just a sliver of skin to Roger’s gaze.

It earned a raised eyebrow, as Roger considered his next move, thumbing away at his lower lip.

“Come on, Daddy,” you whined, moving closer to him, pinning him to the wall. “You said it yourself, you need a night off.” Your hand ghosted over the swell in his jeans. “I can tell you’re looking forward to it.”

“Won’t we get caught?” Roger choked.

“You heard them.”

A playful expression grew over Roger’s features. “Take the coat off,” he whispered, leaning into you. He didn’t give you a second to act on that order; he clawed it off your frame himself, leaving it in a pool at your feet as he dragged you into him. The urgency of your predicament wasn’t lost on Roger. He acted swiftly, with heavy, passionate kisses that left your lips plump and red, and your heart racing while his hands strayed. There wasn’t a patch of skin he could keep his hands off. Eventually, he gripped your hips, grinding them against his own. He made sure you grasped how much he wanted you. “Is this what you want, Kitten?” he purred, drawing his teeth over your neck.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” you sighed.

“Yeah?” he asked, pressing his fingers on either side of your neck, steering your sights right on to him. His eyes were so wide. And then, they darkened. “On your knees, then.”

Dropping to the floor, you kept your stare glued to Roger, eagerly awaiting your prize.

He did all the work. Unfastening his jeans, allowing his cock to spring free. Then he swiped the tip across your lips. “Open up, Kitten. Show me how much you want it.”

You dutifully opened your mouth, poking out your tongue to roll it over him; down his shaft, exploring every single vein, covering him completely. Anticipation simmered away inside you, knowing that if you indulged too much time on niceties, Roger would lose patience. Not that you would ever say no to that. You relished it when he took control. You craved it. But you had to work up the courage to take him in your mouth first. Your gag reflex always got in the way if you didn’t give yourself time to prepare yourself.

But you could sense Roger was growing restless. The guiding hand at the back of your head tightened around a fistful of your hair, edging you into him and his breathing laboured. His entire frame grew stiffer the longer you taunted.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Kitten,” he keened, positioning himself against your lips again.

Batting your eyelashes, you gazed up at him, parting your mouth and swallowing as much of his length as you could handle. You could never manage much on a first pass before he hit the back of your throat, inevitably sending an initial trail of mascara trickling down your cheeks.

He adored seeing your makeup run, and you adored it when he did everything in his power to make it run. Bunching your hair into a crude ponytail, Roger shoved his hips into you; he started tame, working his way up to a blistering pace that made you splutter, and his moans harshen.

Allowing you a brief reprieve to rub the strands of spit from your chin and your chest, Roger couldn’t help but remark on your outfit. “I always loved that bra on you,” he sighed, drawing his hand around his cock in swift, wet movements. “Come on, let me see your tits, Kitten. Show Daddy.”

Losing yourself in your determination to please Roger, you unhooked your bra and leaned back, offering yourself to him. Seeing him frantically tug at his cock above you made you throb deep down in your core. You desperately palmed at your pussy through your underwear.

“God, you’re a filthy girl, aren’t you?” Roger continued. “Touch yourself. Show daddy how wet his cock gets you.”

Sliding your hand beneath your lingerie, your fingertips got to work, gliding through your folds and circling your clit. Fixating on Roger’s hand and his cock while you put on a depraved show for him, the tension in your body skyrocketed. You loved the way he gazed down at you through heavy-lidded eyes and the low grunts that left his lips.

They grew louder.

His hand moved faster.

He moved closer, towering over you.

You could tell he was close. “Are you gonna come, Daddy?”

“Oh god, yes, Kitten. Let me see that gorgeous face of yours,” he groaned, tilting your head up to look at him. “Where do you want it?”

“All over my face,” you smirked.

Roger tipped his head back, laughing under his breath at that idea. “Make you wear it while we get rescued?” he panted. “You dirty, dirty girl.”

“Please, Daddy,” you sang, reaching up to help him along.

But Roger just batted your hand away, planting his hand at the back of your neck to make sure he didn’t waste a drop. His grasp tightened, and his breathing wavered as he fired ropes of thick, hot cum over you. In your eyes. In your hair. In your mouth.

And then the door of the lift grated.

You tried to outpace whoever was on the other side of it; tried to scoop as much jizz off your face and suck it from your fingers. Tried to slip Roger’s fur coat over your shoulders. But you just couldn’t conceal your nasty little secret quick enough.

The door opened. Three engineers standing on a service platform took one look at you and Roger and exploded into fits of laughter.

You and Roger? You were thoroughly mortified.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor smut

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shardminds · 5 years

Text

here’s an idea i don’t have time to write that came to me at like 1am in a discord chat with @darkcolinodonorgasm that i wanted to get out of my head so i can focus on the other wips i want to get out this year. also, i need to stop listening to the need for speed soundtracks before bed.

swearing and smut under the cut ♠

street racer killian jones who only races for pinks and hard cash in his exotic custom cars around abandoned canyons and midnight city streets and emma swan who’s new to the scene and races in what looks like an old wreck of a motor but absolutely thrashes everyone until killian loses his car to her and somewhere along the way they end up abandoning a race and fucking in the driver’s seat

emma’s brother david being a cop tasked with taking down the underground street racing ring and Emma who knows what she’s doing is illegal but damn it feels SO GOOD

and when she finally FINALLY kisses killian jones, wipes the smirk straight off his smug little mouth, she’s never felt more alive

JUST!!! emma telling herself each time that it’s her last but always turning up to the next meet and tearing down the drags and the alpines and the drifts like it’s what she’s BORN to do

and when killian jones, king of the asphalt, puts his own ride on the table

she can’t refuse

and she wins

She Wins

but fucking him feels better than any race could; the heat of his body against hers, his hands fumbling with her zipper, his lips so insistent and hungry for everything she wants to give him. it’s all so easy. it’s not a race. when he slides in deep, thick and full and lost for fucking words, it’s not a race. it’s endurance. it’s bringing her to the edge over and over and only letting her fall when he’s close to his own finish line. it’s the heat of his words as they sink into her skin, salacious things she’s only ever dreamed of being told. it’s the way he says her name like a prayer and doesn’t push her away when they’re both spent and sweaty and breathless. it’s the way that in all her time driving, racing, fucking, nothing has felt this right.

imagine emma turning up to their next meet in killian’s car. sat on the hood in a leather miniskirt and heels (which she swaps out to race, she’s not impractical) knowing that killian is watching her from his side of the road. and he comes over to her, stands between her legs and kisses her fucking breathless.

“what was that for?” she asks, the taste of him on her tongue already fogging her mind. not enough for her to lose focus, but just enough for her to not care about all the groupies and bookies they’ve acquired in the crowd.

“i just want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“we’ll see about that.”

killian finds out later, after emma wins again, that she’s not wearing any underwear and the adrenaline of a win gets her off just as much as his tongue does

@darkcolinodonorgasm: [next time] he fingers her in front of everyone perhaps? But doesn’t let her come 🤭

ooh! slips his hand down her jeans while they’re close enough together that no one can see and slides his fingers through her folds, teasing her and working her up just slightly before pulling his hand free. bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. she just whines, missing his touch as soon as it’s gone.

“delicious.” he hums, so close that she can feel it. “and mine.”

“if you win, maybe.”

he does win and emma pulls him away from the crowd, behind a row of suped-up SUV's that only just hide them from view as he fucks her with his fingers, quick and thorough. the music is loud enough to hide how desperate she sounds when she cries his name, so close to coming as he flicks his thumb over her clit with every stroke

and instead of running, she’s gotta figure out how to balance the illegality of the whole thing with how she’s found something— someone— she isn’t willing to give up on.

#shards prompt dump #i have 2 gargantuan wips to work on i DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS THING #so if someone wants to take it off my hands that would be great #or not #captain swan #ouat

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 5 years

Text

I Always Knew

Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes Steve laughed bitterly, taking off his glasses to wipe away the tears that had begun to slide down his cheeks. Bucky wanted to reach over and wipe them away for him, to show him that he wasn’t completely alone.

a/n:this is my submission for @capcountdownchristmas, i got the quote “You’re being ungrateful!” hope you guys enjoy! tw:alcoholism references, cheating, fluff at the end at least!

Steve was known to go over the top with decorations, they were usually scattered around the apartment he shared with both Sam, and Bucky. The other two men didn’t mind so much, as long as it didn’t affect them personally. So when they came home and found the apartment clean, with absolutely no decorations whatsoever, it was quite a shock. Surely Steve knew that it was after Thanksgiving, and that he was allowed to decorate.

“Do you think he forgot or something?” Sam looked around the living room, as if he could find the answers there.

“We’ve known the man since we were kids Sam, he didn’t forget that Christmas is a few weeks away.” Bucky stepped over to the fireplace, electric as it was cleaner than an actual fireplace, noticing a few things were missing.

Steve had put a picture of himself with his mom, and Peggy, back before she’d lost her battle with cancer and left Steve to be on his own. A loud crunch echoed in the otherwise silent apartment as Bucky turned to face Sam. The frame had been thrown onto the ground, glass shattered against the dark wood.

“What the hell?” Bucky knelt down, pushing aside the broken glass to pull the photo out of the now broken frame.

“Isn’t that the last picture Steve had with his mom?” Sam abandon his search and headed over to where Bucky was, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah, so why the hell was this on the floor?” Bucky knew damn well that it couldn’t of magically fallen off.

The frame was sturdy on top of the mantle, they’d done enough stupid shit in the past that could’ve easily knocked it off, and nothing had, so what changed? Luckily the photo inside looked to be completely fine, except for the fact that Peggy was no longer in the photo.

“Oh shit.” Bucky handed the torn picture over to Sam, sighing more to himself than anything.

It was obvious what had happened, and this wasn’t something either of them were trained to handle properly. Bucky had seen Steve go through nearly everything in his life, had been the one to help pick up the pieces when his mother passed. This though? Bucky wasn’t ready to deal with it just yet.

“It doesn’t sound like he’s home, he probably left after he threw the frame, and tore the picture up.” Sam shook his head, setting the photo down onto the coffee table.

Alpine, Bucky’s little furball of a cat, had perched himself in the middle of the couch, curled up in a comfortable ball, watching the two adults try and figure out what to do.

“We need to talk to him, figure out what happened.” Bucky could already feel a headache forming, running his hands through his hair with a long sigh.

“Trust me, I know, but I’m afraid of how he’s going to react to all of this.” Sam merely shrugged, stepping around to go into the kitchen.

Alpine perked his head up, meowing softly as Bucky reached over to pet him gently. Sometimes he wished he could talk to Al, figure out what he should do with his life so he didn’t feel so lost.

“Buck, I don’t think he left.” Sam’s voice, although quiet, was loud enough to gain his attention.

Bucky headed over, picking up the sound of what seemed to be someone sobbing. Shit, had Steve been home this entire time? Listening to them discuss what was going to happen when they had to confront him?

“Give him some space for now, if we go in there he’s gonna be pissed, and I’m not gonna be on the receiving end of Steve’s anger.” Sam had a point, whenever Steve was upset he tended to cry first, and get unbearably angry second.

It wasn’t going to be easy though, not if Bucky planned on trying to figure out what even set Steve off in the first place. If this had anything to do with Peggy, Steve was going to be a wreck for a while. They were inseparable, and it seemed like things hadn’t ended as pleasantly as everyone had expected.

“I gotta do something Sam, I can’t just let him wallow in his own self pity, he’d hate us for letting him do that.” Bucky frowned, watching as Sam’s brow rose nearly to his hairline.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you wanted to go help Steve whose most likely having a mental breakdown? The man will kill you with his bare hands without a single thought.” Sam had a point, but damnit, Bucky needed to help his friend.

Which is exactly what he didn’t do. Bucky had tried to knock nearly five times, chickening out each and every time he was outside the door. He knew better than to try and get Steve to open up when his wounds were too open and raw. Instead, he headed down to his own bedroom and turned on netflix, letting Alpine climb onto his stomach and relax.

And it was perfectly fine for the night, he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d managed to fall asleep, the sun peeking through the blinds letting him know that it was morning. Al was still perched on his stomach, sleeping as contedly as ever. Man, what Bucky wouldn’t give to feel that kind of relaxation.

Unfortunately, when he managed to get out of bed and head out to get some breakfast for himself and the little feline, he noticed that Steve was already gone for the day. He always went for a jog in the morning before heading down to work. Except it was a saturday, so he had the day off.

“Have you seen Steve?” Bucky looked over to where Sam was busy typing on his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Nope, he was gone before I even got up, and you know I don’t sleep very late anymore.” Sam had gotten into the habit of waking up at the ass crack of dawn, and it hadn’t stopped him for a while.

“Shit, do you think he’d answer if I called him?” Sam gave Bucky a ‘you really can’t be this stupid’ type of look.

Bucky, on the other hand, happened to be quite stupid when he wanted to be. Which ended with him calling Steve approximately three times, and texting him five before finally giving up. He wanted to be left entirely alone, and it was glaringly obvious.

“Maybe I could call Peggy, see what’s going on.” There was clearly tension in the air, something had happened that Steve refused to share.

They’d broken up years ago, fortunately there was no ill will towards the other, or at least no one could sense that. Sam noticed an open envelope, addressed to Sam, Bucky, and Steve. He was expecting some kind of invitation to another wedding, or a jack and jill for one of their friends that were getting married. What he wasn’t expecting to see was Peggy’s wedding invite, falling on the exact date of Sarah Rogers’ death.

“Buck.” Sam felt his blood run cold, fear racing through his veins as he stared at the other man.

“Please tell me that’s a joke.” Bucky took the invite from him carefully, noticing that some of the ink seemed to be smudged.

Steve must’ve checked the mail after he’d gotten home and seen the invite when Bucky, and Sam were still at work. This wasn’t something they could handle easily, Steve only ever really had his mom growing up, and to have this thrown in his face.

The door swung open harshly, slamming into the wall with a loud bang. Bucky jumped, spinning around to face the incomer. Steve looked horrible, from his rumpled clothes, bloodshot eyes that looked far too red from where Bucky could see them. The smell of whiskey seeped into the air, almost choking Bucky where he stood across the room.

“Steve, what the hell?” Bucky was ready to start yelling, to demand answers to the questions burning in his mind.

“Leav’m alone.” Steve stumbled down towards his bedroom, falling into the wall as he struggled to stay upright.

Sam could only watch with horror, the man he’d called his best friend for so long was degraded to nothing, a shell. He was so strong, had been named the Star Spangled Man With A Plan when they were all in the army together. That had been a joke, a way to keep everyone’s spirits up when they got home sick. This though? This was Steve at the lowest point he could be in.

“He did the same thing when mom passed, blamed himself for not making sure she was seeing her doctor regularly.” Bucky and Sam had practically dragged him to a rehab center for his drinking, and he’d come out of it healthy.

It had been almost nine years since her passing, they always took the day to remember Sarah for the woman she was, making promises to be the type of people that would make her happy.

“You’re his sponsor, it’s not really a surprise on why he didn’t bother talking to you.” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He was tempted to follow Steve, to see how truly broken he was over this entire mess. That wouldn’t do any good though, not unless he wanted to have the wrath that was pissed off, and drunk, Steve Rogers coming after him.

He could really only do so much.

“I’m gonna talk to him.” Bucky puffed his chest out, taking a deep breath before heading down to Steve’s room.

Sam wished him good luck, cause he was definitely going to need it right now.

The door was unlocked, and partially open when Bucky made his way down the hall, standing outside as his nerves took hold. What would he even be able to say that wouldn’t set off the blonde? ‘Oh, sorry to hear that your ex is getting married on the anniversary of your mom’s death, what’d you wanna do for dinner?’. Bucky couldn’t do that without losing his head, even if the words were simply to break the tension in the room.

“Steve?” Bucky stepped into the room slowly, unsure as to what sight would greet him.

Steve was curled up on his bed, all six feet, and two hundred forty pounds, looking as small as he had when Bucky and he were kids. How could someone manage to look so small with shoulders wider than most doorways? Now’s not the time to think about something like that.

Steve’s shoulders were falling and rising slowly, as if he was asleep. He kept his footsteps quiet, leaning over to check on his best friend. Steve wasn’t sleeping, much to Bucky’s disappointment. His cheeks were splotchy and red, streaked with tears, knuckles torn and bloody. So not only had Steve gone out and gotten beyond drunk, he’d also managed to get into a fight with someone, the cops would be showing up when Bucky least expected, he could feel it.

“She was there when it happened, saw my mom take her last breath, and this is how she decides to spend her wedding?” Bucky frowned, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

Tears were sliding down Steve’s cheek once more, jaw set harshly as he glared a hole into the wall, well, tried to at least.

“Steve, you can’t get mad at Peggy for moving on and getting married when you were too much of a chicken shit to ask her, she has her own reasons for choosing that date.” Bucky knew his words were harsher than intended, and it wasn’t going to put him in Steve’s good graces.

The blond lunged off his bed, nearly knocking over the lamp that sat on his bedside table, his glasses were hanging precariously near the edge. How the hell had Steve managed to walk around town without them on? Or had he taken them off at some point while he was out getting drunk?

“I’m not mad that she moved on, I’m pissed off that she chose the day my mom died to get married! She knows how fucked up that date made me feel, and if you’re going to side with her, you can get the fuck out.” Bucky furrowed his brow, shocked at the words spewing from the other man’s mouth.

“You’re being ungrateful!” Bucky glared at the other man, arms crossed over his chest.

Steved laughed bitterly, throwing his head back as if he’d heard the most hilarious joke in the world. “I’m being ungrateful? For thinking my ex is being a little pessimistic and choosing a day I try not to think about because it drove me to alcoholism? I thought I knew you better, but clearly there’s things I don’t know about you.” Steve’s voice was abnormally calm, expression smoothing over into a smooth mask.

Bucky knew exactly what it meant, he’d served alongside Steve for nearly five years, this was the persona he’d taken on when he’d been promoted to Captain.

“Get out Buck.” Steve hadn’t moved an inch, body tense as he stared the other man down.

Bucky didn’t wait any longer, storming out of the room and down to where Sam was nervously pacing. It was a habit he’d picked up from being in the army, waiting to hear news about friends that were on their own missions.

“Leave him be, he’s in one of his moods right now, and I’m not about to be lectured by someone who was called Captain America.” Bucky scoffed, plopping down onto the couch with a groan.

Sam didn’t bother to ask, he knew better than to acknowledge the sudden change that seemed to shift in the air.

“Why don’t we go out and get something to eat, let him be pissy all he wants.” Bucky couldn’t deny the offer, it seemed too tempting to go out and stuff his face for the next hour.

And that’s exactly what he and Sam did. Well, Bucky only stuffed his face a little, he didn’t want to overdo it in case Steve wanted to talk when they got back. Well, Bucky knew Steve like the back of his hand, and there was no way he would be willing to talk.

Sam stepped into the apartment first, listening for any kind of noise that would let him know where Steve was. Alpine was perched on his cat bed, relaxing in the midday sun as he slept peacefully. Bucky wanted to run over and get a picture before the ball of fur woke up from his nap. He couldn’t do that though, not when he and Sam noticed that Steve had made his way out to the living room, in what Bucky could only describe as a blanket burrito.

They looked at one another, unsure of what their next step should be. Would Steve be angry that they were back at the apartment? Or would he simply pick himself and head back down to the solace of his room?

“Steve?” Sam held his hand out, slowly walking over to where the other man was currently laying.

“Bucky’s right, I am being ungrateful.” Steve’s voice sounded so hollow, void of any and all emotion as he glanced over to where the photo of him and his mom currently sat.

He’d tried to fix the frame before slipping the photo inside, grimacing at how the glass seemed to be cracked the most over his mother’s face. He’d taken the last photo he had of her, and ruined it out of his own selfishness.

“No wonder she finally gave up and left.” Steve muttered softly to himself.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Bucky frowned, standing beside Sam who’d kept a few feet between himself and Steve.

“I developed a drinking problem that nearly killed me Buck, I didn’t get into the army because I needed something to do to pass the time.” Steve laughed, the sound sodarnic and bitter.

Bucky and Sam had already enlisted by the time Steve had followed close behind, saying that he needed a new perspective on life. He’d moved up quickly, passing Bucky within the first few months before he’d been made a Captain. To know that he’d wanted to die on the battlefield, it left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Wait a second, you’re telling me when you ran into the burning building, you weren’t planning on coming back out alive? Steve, what the fuck!” Bucky was furious, his best friend was suicidal in a place where people tried to keep themselves alive at all costs.

Bucky wanted to scream at him for being so stupid and reckless, why hadn’t he said anything to Bucky or Sam? Why bottle everything inside to the point that he was ready to risk everything?

“She had been seeing Daniel before we broke up, said that I wasn’t emotionally there for her anymore, so she found someone who could do it for her.” Steve smiled to himself, it seemed disproportionate on his face.

“I had buried my mom a week before she told me, and I think the only reason she said anything was because I caught them,” Steve’s eyes welled with tears, this wasn’t something Steve had talked about before.

“God, I begged her to stay, that I could do better for her.” Bucky glanced over to Sam, forcing to keep his own emotions in check.

This wasn’t something they could easily talk about, not without opening old wounds that had healed so long ago.

“You know my mom was the only person who knew I was bisexual? I tried not to let it show, like I needed help instead of telling everyone the truth. Peggy ended up finding out after the funeral, she found a journal I’d started writing in, that was a screaming match from hell.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the greasy feeling.

“Said there was something wrong with me, that I shouldn’t be having feelings for anyone else, that I was a freak.” Bucky’s jaw had hit the floor, Steve had already been going through enough, and to be attacked so harshly?

Bucky felt terrible suddenly, guilt washing over him like a tidal wave as he realized he’d of reacted the same way all those years ago.

Not about Steve of course, but about himself.

“She didn’t like that you were figuring yourself out, so she wanted to make you hurt.” Sam sounded so much like a therapist that it bothered Bucky more than it should.

He’d come out to his family when he was fifteen, telling them that he was gay, and they’d been supportive of him. Of course things between him and Steve were a little tense when he’d started getting out into the dating world, but he assumed it was because he was getting into the dating pool. Steve was still tiny, overlooked by everyone around him while Bucky was pulled in every direction.

People would ask why they were friends, Steve wasn’t worth his time, Bucky could clearly do so much better. He didn’t want to though, he and Steve were best friends from childhood, and no one could change that about them. It wasn’t until Bucky had gotten together with his first boyfriend that their friendship was nearly torn apart.

Jordan Wilson was a good kid, he and Bucky were what most people would’ve considered the perfect couple, but Jordan was accepted to a college out in Cali. Bucky had told him to do what was best, so they broke off their relationship. There wouldn’t be any bad blood between the two, something Bucky was grateful for.

Except he worried about Steve more and more, the man was drinking nearly three bottles of vodka every weekend. It escalated to everyday soon after, Steve stumbling drunk wherever he went. Bucky was terrified his friend was going to get himself killed, so he sent him to rehab.

“She always told me that I’d end up alone if we broke up, I guess she was right.” The room felt thick with tension, Steve’s shoulders slumped forward as he stared at the coffee table.

“That’s not true and you know it.” Bucky sat down next to Steve, giving the other man enough space to keep him comfortable.

Steve laughed bitterly, taking off his glasses to wipe away the tears that had begun to slide down his cheeks. Bucky wanted to reach over and wipe them away for him, to show him that he wasn’t completely alone.

“Who would even want me Buck? I’m barely making ends meet, I’m a recovering alcoholic, I can’t stand the thought of the spring because it reminds me of my mom, add the PTSD from being in the army, who the hells gonna want that?” Steve didn’t turn to look at him, wiping his glasses off with the end of his shirt before sliding them back on.

Bucky could either let their conversation die where it was, or admit something he’d held in his heart ever since he was barely thirteen years old.

“I’m in love with you.” It felt like word vomit, Bucky couldn’t stop the words even if he were actually trying to.

It sounded as if everyone in the room had stopped breathing, Steve’s eyes were wide behind the lenses of his glasses. Sam was staring at him incredulously, and Bucky was more shocked he’d finally admitted it.

“It took you long enough to admit it.” Steve didn’t sound angry, more amused than anything.

“What?” Bucky felt flabbergasted, Steve knew?

Bucky glanced over to where Sam was, noticing that he looked just as confused and shocked.

“I’ve been kinda obvious about how I felt, but you never showed any interest so I backed off.” Steve glanced over at the brunette, raising a brow.

“You’ve had feelings for me?” Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how his jaw was still working, it felt almost as if it had fallen off.

“Remember when we were playing spin the bottle, well you were playing and I was sort of sitting on the side, over at Micky’s place?” Bucky nodded dumbly.

It brought a smile to Steve’s lips, he snickered under his breath.

“Well, when it landed on me and they kept telling you to kiss me cause they were kids and assholes, well I thought about that kiss all the time. I didn’t want to say anything and make stuff weird between us, but yeah.” Steve shrugged as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Bucky.

Sam slowly walked out of the living room, clearly trying to gather his thoughts on how to even approach what was going on.

“So, would you like to get coffee sometime?” Steve’s smirk snapped Bucky out of his trance, bringing him back down to earth.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Bucky smiled softly, cheeks darkening with a blush.

The holidays didn’t seem so bad anymore.

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eapers-eaters · 6 years

Text

Tarse x Reader: Alpine Wood-Work

In which a skier gets lost in the woods and needs rescue after a grisly injury, when originally mistaking Tarse as something dangerous.

The shouts and excitement from the trailhead had all but been silenced by the trees and heavy snow. While many skiers and snowboarders liked to show their stuff on the rails and ramps, you preferred the quiet and long scenic route—a gentle slope punctuated by occasional sharp turns and slightly steeper angles. You’d come out by yourself this time, confident in your knowledge of the mountain, and happy your skis alone left tracks in the soft powder.

About a third down the trail, you began to notice the trees becoming unfamiliar. You had been here just last season, but the trees seemed to be older, taller, and closer together. You pulled off to the side and dug into your pack for the map you habitually picked up from the lodge. You stared confused, only now noticing the once well-marked trail had seemingly vanished, replaced with minimalist outlines of danger. Bears, rockfall…avalanche. But that didn’t explain why the trees were different. You knew this trail, you knew you didn’t take a wrong turn—there was no other turn to take once you started. You decided you were too far down the mountain to trek back up, so continued down the slope, knowing you would still reach the bottom all the same. Or maybe not.

The trees continued to grow stranger—needles were the wrong shapes, branches looked more like twisted arms than the rigid, rough boughs normally seen at these elevations. Too, you began to notice brambles and herbs lively and green, as if for them alone summer never surrendered to the bite of winter snow. The forest continued to encroach upon the trail, until you were finally faced with a wooden wall broken by deep, obscured shadows. You began to pant as you searched for any sign of a break in the forest, but eventually accepted the trail had completely vanished.

You decided you had to continue on foot, so unstrapped the skis from your boots and wrapped them tight to your pack. With the poles gripped tightly in your hands, you entered the dark, cold forest and followed that invisible line you once knew so well. No snow made it to the ground, but is was still unnerving how lush and pristine the undergrowth was. Had you not been so concerned, you would’ve loved to sit and stare, but you were on a mission. You didn’t want to be out here when night inevitably fell.

A breeze blew through the branches, a wave that shook the trees which creaked and moaned in protest. But the forest was healthy—no weak roots threatening to drop a massive trunk on your head, no dead trees losing limbs as they rotted away. You had heard of eternal forests, ancient and still, but they were all far off, not to mention on the opposite side of the mountains. There were rumors, of guardians who used unknown magics to will the plants to grow, and to rid any intruders. But those were tales. They had to be…right?

A different noise made you freeze in place. It was the snap of a hefty branch, and it was close. You slowly turned your head, but saw nothing to make such a sound. Then you heard a log being split open and loud crunching. You snuck silently to the closest tree, and just barely peeked around the rough bark. All you saw was a furry shape, absolutely massive and foreboding, before you quickly turned and attempted to sneak away.

Oh god, it’s a bear, you thought, I just need to stay calm, it’ll leave me alone. It’s too busy with…whatever it’s doing.

You swore you had been deathly quiet when the crunching stopped. There was a swishing sound, different from the needles in the wind, and you looked back for just a moment. It was staring right. At. You.

Your instincts won over as you ran. You didn’t know where, just away from that thing. It was not a bear’s face you saw. You had no idea what ‘it’ was, only it should not be here. You weren’t sure how far your sprint carried you when you saw the forest’s edge, bordered by bright, soft snow. What you didn’t see, however, was the rock obscured by snow-covered ferns.

The sound that escaped your lips was halfway between a gasp and an ear-splitting shriek, whilst from your ankle came a sharp crack. You moaned in pain as blood seeped from your boot, soaking into your pants and staining the snow around your feet. You shivered as you felt your body struggle to keep conscious against the shock and pulsing agony from your broken ankle. But you didn’t hear any pursuer.

You listened over your hammering heart, and was met with silence. You weren’t sure to be relieved, or enraged at the carelessness that got you in this situation. You tried to sit up, only to fall back, face-first, into the snow. You’d never had a high tolerance for pain—not that you suffered many injuries—so this was utterly incapacitating.

You remained still for some time, hoping there was a chance someone would find you, when you heard vegetation being crushed and something coming towards you. Your heart quickened again as you attempted to play dead, which was fairly convincing as you laid limp, face-down in the powder and smelling of blood. You felt your stomach sink as a loud, chuffing breath warmed the back of your neck. Any second now, you expected long, sharp claws to dig into your back, and were pleasantly surprised when you felt fingers press into your shoulder. That too, however turned to dread as a heavy, hand-like paw landed near your face, barely visible in the corner of your visor.

The thing moved around you, sniffing, until it retreated back to your injury. At the gentle touch, you couldn’t stop from weakly moaning, “Agh! It hurts…”

The pressure immediately lifted, and sweat threatened to cascade down your brow as the thing shuffled closer to your head. You could feel it kneel down to be at eye-level, and surprisingly softly, it said in a rumble, “You can speak. Good. Will you let me help you?”

You found it hard to reply, not just from surprise, but the growing lightheadedness. You finally managed to push out a small, “…Okay,” which seemed to satisfy the creature.

“Good,” it moved back towards your feet, adding, “I won’t be able to fix internal damage, you’ll need your human doctors for that. I will close the wound and ease the pain, but I doubt your ability to walk.”

At that, you anticipated another wave of agony, but when pressure pressed close to the wound, that was all you felt. There was a feeling of your skin being tugged at, but that didn’t hurt, either, despite how strange the sensation was. By now the sun was hidden behind the surrounding trees, and you began to grow cold as the light receded.

The creature seemed to finish tending to your injury, then rumbled, “Allow me to keep you warm,” as you felt a furry, thick coat begin to wrap around you. It lifted you from the snow into the coils as you finally got a good look at the thing.

Its long and thick body was covered with the ragged-looking pelt, a deep grayish-green with occasional splotches of what looked to be moss or lichen. While one large, muscular arm helped in supporting you, the other appeared to be a limb of vines only superficially resembling that of an arm. It had no legs, its chest down a slowly tapering core of muscle, which led you to assume it might be a naga, but the face—in addition to the aforementioned details—told otherwise. It wore a wooden mask, with prominent but harmless teeth engraved around its rim, and two white eyes that looked back with an almost disinterested expression. You truly had no idea what this was.

You did begin to feel warmer, but you still felt incredibly apprehensive with this thing wrapped around you. Its voice remained gentle, however, as it conversed, “You appear concerned. I will not harm you, like any fellow creature I’ve previously met. You do not have to fear me. I will keep you safe. You may call me Tarse.”

Your voice threatened to die in your throat, but you eventually croaked, “…w-what are you?”

The emotion in Tarse’s eyes didn’t change as he replied, “I am a Wyrm. My kind does not normally frequent here, and I only desire to pass by on my journey back home.”

All you did was nod. Tarse held you close as night began to fall, covering all except your face so you could still breathe. It sounded as if he had fallen asleep, for his breathing slowed and muscles relaxed, but still kept a secure hold so you wouldn’t slip. You looked at the stars, wondering if your friends knew you were even here, but slowly, too, drifted into unconsciousness.

You were awoken with a start as an explosion rocked the mountainside, and without a word Tarse wrapped around you entirely, bracing his body as you were trying to make sense of things. You could hear wood breaking, rocks colliding, and an ungodly roaring as the whole world outside seemed to fall to pieces.

As soon as it started, the chaos was silenced. All you could hear was the breathing of Tarse and your own heart beating out of your chest. Moments of relative silence dragged on, and was only broken when Tarse began to speak.

“The snow and rocks have us completely buried. It I move too much, this space will collapse. I can dig my way out, but you would not be fast or strong enough to follow. However, I will not leave you to perish. I need your trust and understanding.”

You slowly nodded, knowing you had no choice either way.

“I have disagreed with my kin on their actions, but still have the ability to consume things whole,” Tarse continued watching you with his luminous eyes, noticeably much softer now, “I am more plant than animal, but still possess a digestive system similar to yours. I usually only eat plants, and when I do ingest an animal, it is never to kill or provide myself sustenance. I can protect and transport you this way, if you are willing.”

Far, far slower this time, you nodded. If Tarse left you, you’d be crushed by the debris, and though a visceral instinct told you this would also lead to certain death, you were in no position to deny and expect your desire be seriously considered.

Tarse nodded in turn, the rumble in his voice now a gentle purr as he advised, “I do not want to cause further strain on your injury. I will ingest you head-first, and though I understand you will likely struggle, the more still you remain the easier and faster this will be.”

You heard creaking, and felt fear rush through you as Tarse’s mask had a part break off on each side, which extended into long, flexible jaws. He moved slowly and minimally, straining under the weight and attempting to keep you calm despite the horrified expression under your visor.

With jaw fully extended, he asked, “Should you remove your bag? It may be uncomfortable to have it with you, and I fear I may damage it due to its dimensions and shape.”

You had forgotten it was still strapped to your back, and quickly pulled it off with a half-hearted sigh. You untied the skis and laid the poles beside them, saying, “I still want this, but I don’t need those.” Thankfully, they weren’t your favorite.

Tarse nodded, “Once you have settled, I will deliver your belongings to you. It will likely be somewhat cramped, but I’ll try to be accommodating as possible. Tell me when you’re ready.”

The words hung in the quickly vanishing air, and you struggled to come to terms with what was to happen. However, since the Wyrm was letting you decide when, it gave a minimal sense of reassurance. Eventually, you resorted to telling yourself, it’s just another adventure. If this Tarse guy wanted to kill me, he’d’ve done it already, and wouldn’t care if he hurt me more. Godammit, how did I get myself into this…

Tarse watched you with patient eyes, and only nodded when you told him you were ready. With his arms raised to keep from being crushed, he used his tail to gently lift you up to his face, still only squeezing hard enough to keep you stable. As he opened his jaws wide, you could hardly see anything more than a black abyss yawning back at you. This is it, you thought, and the jaws descended over your head.

You didn’t realize how cold you were until Tarse’s warmth washed over you. You couldn’t help but shiver as your once soggy, freezing clothes were now drenched with warm, slippery saliva. You also shook as a wave of revulsion hit you, spurred by the action of Tarse’s tongue coating your neck and chest, and couldn’t help as you squirmed with discomfort. The Wyrm paused, sensing your distress, and after a few moments of you mostly reassuring yourself, continued.

You felt yourself tipped forward as Tarse tilted his own head back, and whimpered as your head entered his throat, thankfully only further drenching your visor and helmet. In your ears, you could clearly hear the sound of gulping as you were swallowed, but also heard something like creaking wood as the esophagus grew tighter. Tarse began to swallow with more force, and after seeming to push your shoulders past this point, once again resigned to gently easing you deeper into his body. When you finally felt your feet taken in by his throat, you found yourself wondering how much longer until you were in his stomach. Soon as that thought arose, you were pushed into a chamber far looser, and within half a minute, you were completely sealed inside.

You couldn’t help but press your hand into the plush—but highly textured—walls, which pulsed and shifted around but never once encroached further upon you. It seemed fairly sudden when you heard another gulp and your bag slid inside the stomach with you, also soaking, but thankfully it was waterproof. You held it close to your chest as your position shifted, and you felt the muscles around you flex as Tarse likely began to burrow through the debris.

You expected the heat and lack of oxygen to send you to sleep, but your mind was surprisingly alert as your surroundings continued to shift with a noticeable wave-like pattern. You remained silent, and nearly squeezed the bag from your arms as Tarse spoke to you.

“There is a human residence further down the mountain, but when I arrive it shall be mid-day and generously occupied. I would only be able to deliver you there when night falls. While I can regurgitate you a minor distance away so you may arrive on foot, I do worry your injury may impede you. If you would allow me, however, I can heal you far more effectively with you inside me, though there may be permanent, albeit harmless, side-effects.”

“Like what?”

“You may lose pain sensation in that limb, you may acquire an unforeseen defect, or part of your body may be replaced altogether. I do not doubt my ability to treat you, but as you’re awake, it may be disturbing and painful.”

“But,” you began, “I’m not tired, I can’t sleep…”

“I have been supplying copious amounts of oxygen to you,” Tarse explained, “however, I can supplement a kind of anesthetic into the air around you that will put you to sleep. Will you let me do this?”

“I can’t make you either way, so…yeah, I guess,” you replied, and felt the walls shift around you again as you became aware of a sweet smell. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but eventually you felt the laced air fill your lungs and your eyes grow heavy. Your speech grew slurred as you asked, “You, prromis you’re not gon’…I’ll still wake up? Laterrr ‘course…right?”

“Of course,” was all Tarse said, and you slipped from consciousness.

Your eyes flew open as you sat up and gasped, wincing as bright light entered through your visor. Breathing quickly, you tried to recall how you may have gotten here, propped up against a tree along one of the maintenance roads with your bag awkwardly situated in your lap. You distinctly remembered taking the path you normally took, then getting lost, but then…?

The memories flooded back, and you relaxed against the tree, breathing a relieved sigh that you seemed safe, but most importantly, Tarse kept his word. You reasoned he must have let you out while you still slept, then as you remembered your ankle, tore off your boot and gasped. Instead of the pinkish flesh or a scar, your ankle and foot was completely replaced with a wood-like substance. You touched it, expecting there to be no sensation, but besides the smooth, hard texture and color, it still felt, and looked, like how it normally would. You gaped at this, flexing your foot and then standing, finding it to hold your weight perfectly without any sign of the past injury.

You couldn’t help but smile as you pulled your sock back on, then your boot as you thought of how your friends would react. Surely, you would have to come up with a tale that sounded less farfetched than what truly happened, but it was a challenge you were willing to take. Looking around you, you tried to see if Tarse was still around, but there was no sign of the Wyrm. You wanted to thank him, but reasoned you would have to get back to the trailhead soon, or risk him being discovered by someone else.

With a grateful sigh, you picked up your bag and slung it over your shoulder, using the sun’s position to decide which way down the road to take, and began your trek. It was only a few steps when you groaned, bec

#soft vore #safe vore #protective vore #Tarse #long post #my ocs

37 notes · View notes

buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

Photo

Titles Game

Tonight I'm Going Back to My Old Ways - suggested by @steverogersnotebook

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky didn’t usually go for straight guys. Not since Brock in college, anyway. But tonight, all he could see was the blond across the bar. He was laughing with his friends, and he was gorgeous. Muscles for days, a body Bucky wanted to climb like a tree, and a wonderful smile that was a combination of Hallmark wholesome and downright dirty that shouldn’t have worked, but did. The piercing blue eyes just sealed the deal: Bucky was going to get him in his bed. (there would definitely be a tag in there about how they need to communicate and how Steve's not straight)

@wolfnprey - Bucky had settled down after he started a family. Everything told him he didn't deserve happiness, but he was beyond listening. Until some old ghosts showed up. Literal ghosts, and they were hellbent on making sure Bucky's life was upended. He'd buried the necronamicon in the basement ten years ago, but now he was digging it up with the help of his old partner. If only Steve was forgiving.

@steverogersnotebook - (Early recovering Bucky) finds it hard to come to terms with the modern Brooklyn, seeks out night clubs and smokes like a chimney in an effort to feel the way he remembers feeling.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Their relationship had been strained in a way that Bucky was pretty sure couple's therapy couldn't fix. Not that he had tried. He wasn't about to unload all of his trauma concerning not being his old self anymore on some poor middle-aged Brooklynite mother of three even if she did have a degree that supposedly helped. There was no way she was prepared to help a brainwashed assassin with a fault list from Coney Island to hell and back again. So instead he'd unloaded all of that on Natasha. As a best friend, she was legally obligated to listen to him anyway. And besides, she was cheaper; she could be bought with a whine and a wine. However, talking to Natasha also meant he got the cold, hard truth that his relationship was suffering not because he'd forgotten who he was and became a brainwashed assassin for decades, but because he'd forgotten who Steve was and hadn't spent a lot of time figuring it out again. So per his therapist's (Natasha's, whatever) advice, Bucky's getting back to his roots and rebecoming the man who knew everything about Steve Rogers and hoping that maybe somewhere along the line, he can figure out what it was that made the two of them work so perfectly together.

More under the cut!

Down the rabbit hole - suggested by @liquidlightz

@phoenixgryphon - MCU Nat going down the rabbit hole that is pre Cap2 TWS information

@steverogersnotebook - An edgy Alice AU where bucky meets the OUAT version of the mad hatter.

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was constantly seeing the same figure out of the corner of his eye. A tall, muscular blonde, who seemed as though he wasn’t quite there, which was why Bucky was sure he was imagining the man, or confusing multiple tall muscular blonds. They weren’t as uncommon as one would think, and Bucky was so tired, so he decided not to worry about the blond. Until the day he literally fell down a rabbit hole - in Brooklyn, of all places - and ended up in another version of New York.

@wolfnprey - Stripper AU. Nat drags Bucky to Down the Rabbit Hole for a particular stripper named Alice who is a beefy blond with bright blue eyes.

@bookdragon13 - Or alternatively: Steve goes to Storybrooke during his quest to find Bucky and meets Jefferson. Steve immediately goes “Bucky?” And Jefferson, in his sassy way, says “who the hell is Bucky?” But proceeds to use his hat to help Steve find his Bucky, if only to meet his lookalike Whether or not this becomes angsty, I’m not sure

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky In the 21st Century: After spending too much time on the internet trying to figure out what some of the things he’d been hearing about really were, Bucky wishes he’d trusted Tony when he said, “Snowflake, there’s whole swaths of the interwebs you don’t want to know. Trust me, please?” Now, six and a half hours later, he knew that there was Avengers fan fiction (and what that consisted of) and Avengers cosplay porn. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information. But maybe he just needed to do some more research. After a snack.

@liquidlightz - Alpine was very protective. Bucky loved gardening and he'd planted many different flowers, but there was a fat rabbit that kept popping by and eating all the best tulips, daylilies, you name it. Bucky was hesitant to harm the creature, but Alpine was having no more of it. She chased said rabbit down its hole and Bucky had to dig her back out.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Bucky’s family owned a farm so he'd had a plethora of pets his entire life, but when he'd moved to the big city, Bucky had stuffed Top Hat the white rabbit in her carrier and told her they were headed for the adventure of a lifetime, no looking back. And truth be told, sometimes New York was lonely. But the other truth was he didn't miss Indiana at all. He loved New York, but he'd never regretted his move more than the day he came home to discover Top Hat not in her enclosure. He had to go door to door on the entire floor and maybe the floor above and below his. Everyone had to help find his missing long-eared, fluffy-tailed best friend. Cue everyone in Bucky's apartment complex searching the entire building for one white rabbit trying to pull her own disappearing act. And cue Bucky searching for a rabbit, but finding maybe a little more along the way.

You pull hope from defeat in the night - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@steverogersnotebook - After a terrible loss on a mission, Bucky and [strained relationship/preferred pairing] are nearly wiped out themselves. One has to get out and get help for the other before it's too late for them too. In dragging the injured party to safety, promises made in supplication reignite hope for a resolution.

@somesortofitalianroast - (pre-serum!steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky) After exhausting missions, there’s nothing Steve likes better than hooking up with a guy at a bar, preferably one who would believe him when he said he wouldn’t break. Tonight, he chose the guy carefully, a big, beefy brunet with thighs for days and something about him that made him look gentle. One night turned into another. And another. And another…. Who said hookups couldn’t lead to love?

@bookdragon13 - Just when Bucky was feeling his lowest, walking around Brooklyn at night, he hears a faint meowing. Bucky finds the white kitten and takes it to the local vet. Afterwards, he couldn’t just leave the white fur ball behind, adopting her and giving her the name Alpine. With Alpine around, Bucky couldn’t help but start feeling like he could climb out of the hole he’d dug himself in. He can’t help but laugh at Alpine’s antics and when he’s having a bad day, she cuddles with Bucky as he rubs his fingers through her fur

@liquidlightz - Bucky had written off more cheques than his body could cash, yet again. Losing badly at poker and getting beaten down for failing to pay up. This night was turning out better than the last, as he found himself in the hands of a gorgeous Doctor with gentle hands who seemed to enjoy his attempts at flirting through bloodied teeth. Things might be looking up, he was going to go all in and take another chance tonight.

@wolfarrowepz - (Winterhawk, hockey AU)The Avengers were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.... less than a third of the team had been with them when they won the championship 3 years ago. Now all Bucky wants to do is go home and sulk and ice his knee in peace. Clint has decided he needs to come to dinner with the team to show all the rookies and new guys to show them that losing isn't the end of the world. Fuck it all if Bucky will do whatever Clint asks. Bucky he liked him since they joined the team together as rookies. Clint is 100% oblivious to every move Bucky makes but if Clint asks him to do something he will. Clint on the other hand is convinced Bucky isn't into him. Cue pining and the inevitable "of course I Like you, you dope!" moment.

With Steel and Silver Burning Heart - suggested by @ibelieveinturtles

@steverogersnotebook - Dragon trainer AU, Steve goes to slay the dragon, Bucky's the dragon trainer. They meet, they clash, they enemies to friends to lovers.

@phoenixgryphon - big beefy bucky the blacksmith. who builds broadswords to bring in the bills

@somesortofitalianroast - (Regency!AU) James Barnes was well aware that he was the Marquis of Buchannan in name only. With no money left in the estates coiffers and three younger sisters - the oldest a mere year before her official debut - to support, he was desperate. Desperate enough to approach the new Duke of Brooklyn - a known rake with a history of getting in duels - with an offer: he supplies the cash for Rebecca’s debutante and in return, he gets James. But what happens when the purely financial relationship is no longer purely financial?

@liquidlightz - Bucky was not amused when the blade pierced his heart. Fuck, that hurt! "You asshole", he berated his not-looking-so-hot-now date on the other end of that dagger, "I thought we were having a good time." Bucky had to thank his lucky stars, and not his wits, that this hunter was a moron and that blade was cheap metal and not silver. He should, maybe, start being a little more discerning in his hookups.

@bookdragon13 - As a Knight of the Realm, Bucky was sworn to protect the royal family. He didn’t mean to fall in love with the Princess in the process. Neither did Bucky realize he was a jealous man, until he saw another knight, Brock, try to kiss the Princess, with her unwilling. Bucky immediately called Brock out, challenging him to a duel. When Brock was wounded, Bucky threatened that if Brock tried anything with Her Royal Highness again, he wouldn’t be so lenient.

#buckybarnesbingo2021 #bbb2021 #bbb discord party #titles game #party game

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