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eclecticpatrolroadlawyer · 2 years

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Summer Flowers

Parings: Rockstar Bucky x reader

Warnings: death, car accident, suicidal thoughts, angst, fluff.

Divider from @firefly-graphics

Bucky's pov

Articles

Rockstar James Buchanan Barnes whom we all know as 'White wolf' again tried to kill himself.

Gossipgirl. 25 mins ago

Fans are not satisfied with Jame's suicidal behaviour at all.

Foxnews. 30 mins ago

"White wolf is overreacting" Twitted Brock.

CNN. 4 mins ago

I sighed as I went through the articles feeling frustrated deep down.

' Everyone was getting on my nerves. Everyone. Why can't they just leave me alone?' I thought as I threw the smartphone on the bed and looked outside through the window.

Suddenly I felt someone barge into my room. I didn't even need to turn around to check who it was knowing it was Steve again trying to put some sense into me.

"WHAT THE HELL YOU THINK YOU ARE TRYING TO DO HUH, BUCK!" Steve shouted again complaining about my behaviour.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK THE BAND APART OR SOMETHING?BUCK!"

"LOOK AT ME BUCK, LOOK AT ME AND SAY SOMETHING. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!? HA- "

" YES, I LOST MY MIND. THROW ME OUT OF THE BAND THEN. I DON'T FUCKING CARE." I interrupted him as I replied shouting.

"What do you know? What on earth am I supposed to do? Huh!"

"Cheer up? I have to live my life well if I don't want y/n to be sad?

It's all bullshit. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS PAIN IS LIKE. You can't even imagine it. Do you know how hellish it is to be alive and breathing?" I said as I broke down crying.

"Do you know what it feels like to lose everything?" I asked him as I looked into his with my blurred vision filled with tears.

"How no matter time passes, you can't seem to forget. That face, that incident, you can't" I said looking down as I remembered her emotionless eyes looking straight at me while I couldn't do anything.

"Accept it," Steve said.

I looked at him in disbelief.

'How can he say that!' I thought as I wiped my tears.

"WHY DO I HAVE TO ACCEPT IT? WHY?" I asked him as I felt my blood boil.

"I killed her.

I killed her. I am a monster. I should never have been born. If only I was the one to drive." I said as I looked down feeling my shoulders shake while I cried.

"So, tell me, Steve, why should I accept it? WHY?" I said as I again looked into his eyes trying to find the answer.

"Because you survived," Steve said sternly.

"Y/n saved you. Buck.

Before car crash, people instinctively turn the wheel to their side to save themselves but Y/n..." Steve continued as tears starts to stream down from his eyes.

Regaining his composer, he continued "But Y/n swerved to your side to save you" He said.

After hearing this, I felt as if someone just took my breath away. I didn't know how to react to this. So many questions were swirling in my mind. I didn't know what to feel about this. So, I cried harder looking down at my feet and asking.

"Why? Why did she save me? I am nothing... Why would she do that for me?" I asked Steve as I couldn't think of anything anymore. My mind was blank and I only wanted Y/n. My heart and mind both were screaming for her scent,her voice, her touch...

"Because she cared for you." I heard him say.

"Because she cared about you more than she did for herself. That's why she saved you" He said in a calm voice trying not to lose his temper.

"I know you will not believe my words. That's why Y/n gave this letter to me one day saying if she dies, then, to give it to you" Steve informed me as he handed me the letter.

As I took the letter with my shaking hands, Steve informed me that he was gonna wait outside giving me some alone time. Saying this, he went outside.

I was still staring at the letter Steve gave me. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I don't know what to do. I am scared. I didn't know how to feel about this.

Taking a deep breath, I open the letter and looked at it suddenly finding the engagement ring she gave me when she proposed to me. I lost it in the accident.

I read:

Dear Bucky,

If Steve gave you this letter and you are reading this, that means I am dead. I am writing this letter cause I don't know what awaits me in future. That's why I am writing this letter to you.

My precious Buck, you know you are always my world for me. You are everything I could ever ask for. I still don't know how I was even able to live without you before meeting you. I can now realise I was barely able to live my life before I met you. I still remember the day when you saved me while I was thinking about trying to take my life. I was depressed that day when I met you. I remember it was a rainy day. I lost everything that day, my passion and many more. I thought no one cared for me. But then there you suddenly came while I was soaking all wet , handing me the umbrella and telling me it's a passing shower and it's going to pass by soon so, not to get wet by myself. I was shocked at first. I was questioning why the hell you care for a stranger so much. Before I could ask you anything, your ride came and you were gone. On that day, I started questioning myself trying to figure out who you are but, I slowly started to like you suddenly and without any care, one day I gave you my heart when I met you again seeing you performing with a band on street. You know, Buck, the happiest moments in my life all came after I met you. I wouldn't have been on this earth if I hadn't met you. You saved me that day. You know?

So, stop blaming yourself and please live. Let me go knowing that you will be okay. You won't be alone. We will be waiting together until we meet in heaven. I will be waiting for you and when we meet again, I want you to bring me the most beautiful flower from our tree. Don't cry too much and let's be brave and wait until we meet.

Live fully for both of us.

Your lover and fiance,

Y/n.

As I read the letter, I felt a teardrop on the letter and then two and then soon I started crying. For some reason, I felt as if something was taken. I felt my shoulder relax. I cried and cried without any care for time and the world. I felt someone barge into my room but I don't care. I felt arms wrapping around me telling me to cry and cry and to let it all out and that's what I did. I cried. I cried remembering every moment with her. The day when she proposed to me, the day when we met her parents, the day when she first messaged me how happy I was, the day when I taught her guitar, and the day when both planted a tree together. Everyday. Every expression on her face her smile, when she cried when she was angry. I cried remembering everything. Soon I felt my world go dark as I started feeling tired.

2 Days later

After getting discharged from the hospital, I went to our old small shared apartment, the place where our story started. I took a deep breath and released it looking at the mess I did a few days ago. Wine bottles everywhere, rags and all.

'There's so much cleaning to do today. It will take hours.' I thought.

As time passed by, hours later, putting the last bottle in the bag, I got a message. It was from Steve.

Steve: You in today? Solo?

Bucky: Yes. I am in. Solo.

Steve: Okay. We will start at 8:00. Be ready.

Bucky: Okay.

I switched off my phone and noticed the plant ,me and y/n planted. I crouched down in front of it and saw tiny green leaves sprouting. I smiled to myself.

3 hours later

After all these days, I was nervous suddenly. It was my first doing solo and singing the song I wrote mainly. I felt my hands getting sweaty as I felt my heart beat fast.

Suddenly I felt a cold bottle touching my cheek. Jumping away from the feeling, I saw Nat with a small smile on her face handing with the small bottle.

"It will be all okay. Don't worry. All fans came to see you and your performance today. You are gonna do great. Just relax" She said walking away.

Gulping down the water instantly, I heard my name being called. I took a deep breath and walked up to the stage.

From the view, everyone started cheering for me suddenly. It felt great. I felt as if it was my first stage performance. I missed this. I smiled brightly waving at my fans.

"Thank you so much for coming today. Thank you so much for being with me when I couldn't handle myself. Thank you, guys. I am sorry for everything you guys had to see. I deeply regret my actions. Thank you guys for still loving me and my team. Today, I arranged a solo for you guys. It's a song I wrote. It's not rock music. It's a song for someone whom I will be waiting till the time comes. The song's name is 'Summer Flowers'. Hope you guys like it".

I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath and closed my eyes:

[Verse 1]

You come to me without saying anything

And cry for a long time and say

Say goodbye, let's stop now

I looked back blankly

drawing us from yesterday

When I came back, you were gone.

[Chorus]

Say no

tell me you'll be back

We, who were splendid

Wished to become flowers

That never Withered.

[Verse 2]

I still miss you, the way you looked at me

Even I try to erase it

It gets deeper

I knew this summer was over

When you left me crying

you know

how I feel.

[Chorus]

Say no

tell me you'll be back

We, who were splendid,

Wished to become flowers

That never Withered.

Say no

tell me you'll be back

we, who were dazzling,

I hope that we become flowers

that do not wither

[Outro]

Tell me

Oh oh

I'm waiting for you there then (then there)

Alone at home, I'm waiting for you (I'm at home alone)

Then there I am waiting for you,

Alone at home I'm waiting for you.

As I opened my eyes, I saw everyone cheering for me, some are crying and some are shouting my name. I looked at the audience as I felt tears streaming down my cheeks and suddenly someone caught my eye and I saw her. I didn't know if it was real or not , if she was seeing it or not but I could see that she was crying and smiling at me and then I saw her lips moving to say, "I love you."

Then she disappeared in thin air.

I didn't even try to chase after her cause I knew she was waiting for me there after I live life fully for both of us. I smiled in the direction where she was standing previously as I said "Thank you."

The End

A/n (author's note): The song lyrics here is not owned by me. It's a korean song of a series name "Tomorrow".

YouTube link

It's original name is "Summer Flowers" Only.

And if you guys wanna know some memories of them together more?like how they proposed and all. Send me asks about what do you wanna know about them.

Note: Hey guys! Hope u like it. English is actually my second language so, if there's any mistake u can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG and DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know ur guys views. Thank u for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if u wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10 @medelinee @tapedeck-hearts @adoringsebstan @crazyaboutsebastian

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h50europe · 3 years

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Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

#McDanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #scott caan #alex o'loughlin #H50 the final chapter #H50 series finale #Lenkov #Eddie #Junior #seal team

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Fully Complete 6

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, general hatred, allusions to death, toyplay, binding/restraint, whipping.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Think we got one chapter left after this one but don’t worry, we will eventually have more Birch beyond that.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 6: Wait and you'll see

💀💀💀

Your ankle bent for the fifth time as you entered the small county hospital. Loki kept his hand covertly on your elbow after you jabbed him several times in the ribs on the drive over and noticed the way your eyes searched around. You couldn’t help it. Even if Jerome’s life was in the balance, you wanted nothing more than to be away from this man; if you could call him one.

The halls were sterile and the bright lights added to the sting in your eyes as you were shown to your brother’s room. A motorcycle accident, the nurse said, but Jerome’s bike was destroyed with everything else in your shop. You knew what happened was far from an accident.

His eyes were closed and tubes ran down his arms and across his face. It was a sobering sight. It reminded you of your father’s last months. You dreaded seeing anyone like that ever again. Even if Jerome was a cowardly weasel, even if he let those men trade you like livestock, he was still your kin and he was all you had left of your father.

You wiggled away from Loki and he let you as he pinched you in warning. You went to Jerome’s bedside and glanced over at your escorts. Korg actually showed an ounce of empathy as he stared at the bed.

“Can I have some privacy?” you snarled.

“We’ll be right outside. Don’t think of trying anything,” Loki reproached.

“I just want to be alone with my brother,” you curled your lip, “not everything is about you.”

You waited until you stepped out and you leaned on the bed rail. He looked so frail just laying there with machines pumping life into him. The nurse said he might wake up but they were still waiting. The only good news she had was that the surgery on his spine was successful.

“I don’t forgive you,” you whispered, “I never will but I love you.”

Your eyes pricked and you rolled them to force away the tears. The machines beeped and fanned. You shook your head and gave a grim smile.

“I want to ask how we got here but we know. We knew life would be like this. Daddy said it would. He knew you were gonna be a club man like him and he told you to hold onto your soul. He’d be so disappointed.” You sighed, “Do you know what that man is doing to me? What he’s gonna do?”

You looked away and huffed. You were angry, hurt, but not broken. Not yet.

“I can’t stop him, I know that,” you confessed quietly as you reached for his hand, “I was stupid to think I was different from those other girls. To think I’m above them. No, these men are all the same and we just gotta deal with it.”

You swallowed and pushed yourself up.

“Yeah, yeah, we know what happened to mama. Same thing’ll happen to me now,” you said, “and you’re gonna go see daddy. I hope he’s at peace, I hope you find that too.”

You turned and wiped your wet eyes. You wouldn’t let Loki see you cry. He wouldn’t have that pleasure. You would play along until you could act. You would pretend that you believed Jerome would live. You would fake, you would take, you would survive.

💀

The car ride was silent as you stared out the window. You were quiet, still. Even as Loki’s fingers wandered to your skirt and played with the fabric, you did nothing. You were tired and fighting wasn’t doing nothing but draining your energy. You leaned back and played with the button of the jacket. The clothes were entirely impractical against the winter.

The main road of Birch passed outside your window and Korg drove by the sidestreet where the Victorian house stood. You saw the moniker with Cleopatra and you didn’t need to ask where you were going. You didn’t even wonder why. You knew.

“You think you can behave?” Loki asked, “for your brother’s sake?”

You turned to him and resisted a snarl. You nodded and tensed as he squeezed your leg.

“Darling, I mean it. You go in there and you show the boys how tame you can be,” he smirked, “show off your new clothes.”

“I got it,” you said through gritted teeth, “but you touch my brother again and I will never stop. I won’t stop until you kill me too.”

He raised his head in triumph and flicked your chin with his finger, “we have an understanding, don’t we, darling?”

You turned and reached for the handle. He let you and followed you out smoothly. He was quick to hook his arm around your waist as Korg led the way to the bar and opened the door ahead of you. You entered and focused on keeping one foot in front of the other as your instinct told you to throttle the man at your side.

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision cleared. Steve sat with his girl and Bucky with that waitress he was fucking. You saw in her eye a feeling you knew well. Her and the mousy one shared that brittle complacency. Your sights narrowed at Bucky as you got closer and time seemed to slow.

When you reached the table, Bucky looked over and stood. He smiled between you and Loki, the amusement plain on his face. You felt the flicker inside of you. You couldn’t hold back as you slipped quickly from Loki’s grasp and around the side of the table. You latched onto the front of his jacket. You hit him across the jaw with your fist and were ready to lay another as someone caught your fist.

The voices rose around you as you kicked out and caught him in the stomach as you were wrenched away. You looked up as you growled a slew of curses and found Steve and Loki both clinging to your arms. You continued to flail.

“You fucking piece of shit,” you grunted, “I swear to fucking God, I’m going to end you!”

“What did I say?” Loki hissed as they tried to rein you in.

Bucky was just as fast as he approached you and drew his gun. You didn’t still even as he aimed the muzzle at you and stared down the barrel.

“She’s fucking rabid,” Steve uttered, “Christ.”

“Do it, you fucking bastard!” You spat.

There were no thoughts, no fears, only pure rage as you stomped your feet and tried to wriggle free. You glared back at Bucky as the gun hung before him. He exhaled loudly and put it away.

“You gotta put a leash on that bitch,” Bucky said, “I told you it wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Darling,” Loki said as you yanked against his hold, “that’s enough. Surely you didn’t forget so quickly that yours is not the only life in the balance.”

You looked over at him and blinked. You unballed your hands and stilled. You were stiff as the anger tensed your entire body but you tamped it down with effort. The men slowly released you. You peered around as you seethed, the two women at the table watched you in shock but beneath, you saw intrigue.

You raised your hands in surrender and looked at Bucky. Your jaw locked but you forced the words out. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” he raised his brows as his own anger receded, “what was that?”

“I’m sorry,” you enunciated, “alright?”

He laughed and looked you up and down dramatically, “didn’t think you’d get this far,” he said to Loki, “she looks like a woman.”

It took everything you had not to try again. You backed away as Loki removed his jacket and you mirrored him. He pulled out a chair and pointed you down with sneer. He sat beside you and rolled his shoulders as he fixed his blazer.

“Apologies for our lateness, we did have to make a detour,” he said, “I promise, I will keep her in line for the rest of the night.”

Bucky poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth, “you better,” he grinned.

You looked to your lap and unbent your fingers as your nails dug into your palm. You peeked around and caught the eye of Bucky’s girl and for a moment you just stared back. She was pensive and tilted her head before she looked away. You might not be entirely alone.

💀

“I am unimpressed with that scene,” Loki hissed as Korg clung to your arm and angled you up the stairs ahead of them, “but I will give you a choice. Do I punish you or your brother?”

You reached the top and turned down the hallway. You entered the bedroom without resistance as the burly toady kept his grasp on you. You turned with him and watched Loki enter.

“I’m sorry, really. I deserve… punishment. Not him,” you said stiffly as you swallowed. The words were like bile in your throat.

“Oh, darling, that is the smartest thing I’ve heard you say,” he slithered, “Korg, get her clothes off.”

You blinked and looked up at Korg. He returned your gaze doubtfully and glanced back at Loki.

“Sir?” he asked.

“You heard me,” Loki said as he went over the chest of drawers and pulled the top one out, “get her naked and put her on the bed.”

“I can do it myself--”

“No, Korg, do as I say and hold her down,” he turned as he held some leather straps and you scrunched your nose as you tried to decipher all the crisscrossing.

“Sir, I--”

“You know I don’t like to repeat myself and I’ve already done so once,” he snapped, “so do it.”

Korg let you go and you bent quickly to undo your boots. He watched you take them off and you put your back to him, “the zipper,” you said quietly. He pushed it down and you held your arms straight as he tugged the sleeves past your wrists. He jerked you unintentionally as the dress gather at your waist and apologized.

You steeled yourself and stepped out of the fabric as it fell to your ankles. It felt like giving up but it was the only way. It was a means to an end. You bit down as Korg fumbled with your bra and stuttered. You reached back to help him and the cleared his throat.

“Hurry up, you fool,” Loki growled.

Korg hesitated as he pushed down your stockings one at a time and then slipped your panties off your hips. He stood and gripped your arm, lighter than before. You let him move you to the bed and Loki stopped him.

“Raise your foot, darling,” he bent and opened the leather straps.

You obeyed and he nodded to the other. You lifted your other foot and put it back down. He pulled it up your legs and zipped the harness up to your waist. The leather straps wounded around your pelvis and thighs but offered no cover, just a strap along your cunt.

“Put her arms back,” Loki demanded as he rose and came around you. He pointed behind you and your wrists were buckled into the cuffs attached to the thickest strap on the harness, your arms bound behind you. “Very good, now on the bed… face down.”

Korg gently guided you down and you wiggled onto the mattress. Loki dismissed him curtly and the door closed, marking a stolid silence. You kept your face away from Loki and tested the resistance of the harness. Even if you could get free, you wouldn’t get far.

“What is the matter, darling?” he taunted as you heard the rustle of fabric.

“You know, trying not to wretch at the thought of you touching me,” you snipped.

“Oh, is that what you think your punishment is?” he mused and the air was cut with the bite of leather before it lashed across your ass, “you’ll be begging for my touch when I’m through.”

You held your breath as he laid another strike and another and your body jostled on the bed with each. You knotted your fingers and every muscle in your body was rigid. You felt the welts rising on your skin but you focused on the pain. It kept you from crying, from thinking. It kept the humiliation from drowning you.

Was it worth it? Could you live with the shame when it was over?”

He stopped as you panted shallowly. He snickered and you heard him moving around again. He tutted and the mattress dipped as he pushed your legs apart. He pulled on the strap along your cunt and slid a smooth, slightly curved object between it and your skin. He tightened the buckle at the back of the harness so that the silicon was snug to your clit.

He poked his finger along it and it began to vibrate. You sucked in your breath as your body responded to the pulsing. He retreated off the bed and you pushed your legs together. That only made the sensation more intense and you tugged desperately at the cuffs as you rolled onto your side.

“It said about twelve hours battery if kept on low,” he said, “just enough to keep you awake but not enough to do much else.”

You bared your teeth as your eyes threatened to roll back and growled. Your feet arched as you bent your legs slightly and tied to shift the vibrator. You crushed your hands as you wiggled onto your back and dug your heels into the mattress.

“I am patient, darling, you’ve helped in that,” he taunted, “but oh, it is worth the wait to see you squirm.”

“Oh, you prick, why don’t you just… get it… over with?” your breaths caught as the toy buzzed against you.

“Where is the fun in that?” he ran his hand down your thigh and you flinched, “and you kept me waiting long enough. You will know the same pain.”

“I fucking hate you,” you sneered as you rocked back and forth and pushed your head back into the bed.

“I know,” he said gleefully, “it makes it all the better.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #birch #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #fully completely #biker boys of birch #mcu #marvel #thor #captain america #avengers #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sequel

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oksana-moods · 3 years

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Ghost of you - Part 5

Summary: When your answers doesn’t fill in the blanks properly, the only option is to move forward. A/N: Two in a row, ‘cause I’m nice like that. Thanks for those who left comments and likes, reblogged and gave me any kind of support. You’re amazing! I mentioned that this would be slow burn, right? Trigger Warnings: Violence, language, mentions of death… If you find others, let me know.

“And all the things that you never ever told me.”

My encounter with Fury left me felling scarred and open. I knew a name; I knew who I used to be. I knew things about me, but they felt so foreign, like they belonged to someone else. Maybe, because it did. I wasn’t Lara, but was I Ghost? Later that night, I was assaulted with the woman’s… no, Carol’s crash, Carol going away scenes once again. My head was an utterly turmoil. It became obvious that my memory from Carol leaving, our brake-up, came after the accident and not in the sequence that Hydra played in my mind. Bastards. They led me to believe that I was useless. That all I was authorized to feel was void, emptiness. What did I feel, now? Besides this rage masquerade as fire, what was left to feel? What was permitted?

I looked at the door as soon as I heard the locks. Romanoff enters my accommodation and I get up, not too fast to not startle her. “Miss Romanoff, fancy seeing you here without bodyguards.” She glares at me. “Thought didn’t worth the effort to protect them.” She’s flashes me a tide smile. “It came to my attention that you’ve met Fury.” I nod. “So, how should I call you now?” She takes two steps closer and leans at the table. “Lara? Or do you still prefer Ghost? I shrug “All of them makes me uneasy. None of them seem to fit.” “Hm. Maverick then.” “I never said that this one was good either.” “Well, we need to call you somehow.” A grin is scaping her lips. “We?” I blinked and she was looking at me from the door frame. “Come. I’m afraid that you’re starting to rust.”

Agent Romanoff didn’t want revenge, but she definitely wanted payback. And God, that woman is almost too fast for me to keep up. Almost. After being in my accommodation for so long, I was indeed a bit rusted. However, my muscles loved the exercise, and it did wonders to my brain. Fighting against such good opponent kept me focused on our spar. First time in days that I stop to think and overthink about my misery. Romanoff came with one of those Widow’s combos that I menage to dodge and block a few, but one kick reached my shoulder while her elbow found my temples.

All of a sudden, I’m standing in a bar. My mind’s eye was caught in something like a foggy screen and oh my, is this a memory? I had a drink in my hand while the other one was resting in a sling. I was feeling like shit, so much sorrow coursing through me, all I could… I feel a slap in my good shoulder. I look up to see a tall man offering me a pool cue. ‘Come, the winner gets free beers.’ I look at my drink while I say. ‘Thanks, I’m good. I’m not in the mood.’ He nudges me. What part of mood, he didn’t catch? He speaks. ‘Oh c’mon, Mav. Danvers’s accident is tragic and all, but c’mon… or are you just sad about your injured arm?’ Fire starts to spread throughout my chest. ‘Excuse me?’ He leans in the counter. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that you guys weren’t even friends, none of us were. She was too cocky. Guess Miss goody two shoes couldn’t even drive a car, let alone fly a jet.’ The fire was consuming, was bursting out of me until it reached its peak. Complete forgetting about the sling, my hand moved to the back of his head so, so fast. Next thing I knew, I was knocking his head in the counter. He looks up with his nose covered in blood. ‘Bitch!’ He charged at me. He knocked me down and my head hit the floor, but I needed to put this fire out, I wouldn’t stop now, I needed to vent my rage. I failed in protecting her from dying, but I sure won’t fail in protecting her memory from this scum. After exchanging punches and kicks, I held him in a chokehold. ‘Never, and I do mean never talk about her like this, Specht.’ I looked up to see an audience. ‘I’ll kill anyone of you who dares to speak of her.’ I let go of him and left the bar. When reality finds me again, the first thing to reach my ears is Romanoff’s voice. “Maverick, are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m good. Why?” She scoffs. “I hit your head and then you stop fighting, kept looking nowhere, like in a trance.” “Oh. I… I’m sorry.” Her voice is softer when she speaks again. “What happened? Do you need me to call, Bruce or Dr. Cho?” “What? No, no. I’m fine. It’s just… I had a vision, I don’t know.” I rub my temples to ease the pain in my head. “I think that I saw a memory, after you hit me, in a moment I was here sparing with you and the next I was in a bar having a bar fight with a man.” “You were a fighter even before, huh?” She joked and I shrugged. “Are this visions or memories assaults a common thing?” I frown trying to make it simpler. “I’ve never had another memory except being left behind and the Crash in a loop. Guess I’m just confused. Do I need specific triggers to remember things or is this my brain fighting Hydra’s brainwashing?” She gives me a look that I can’t decipher. “I’m sorry all of this happened to you. Let us help you.” “Help? With what? Will you guys erase my memory again?” “How long will take for you to start to trust us? We won’t hurt you.” Trust? Her question caught me off guard. How can I trust, when I don’t know what trust is? “I want to believe in you but all that I know is Hydra. Guess I’m afraid of this being just smoke and mirrors.” Her brows were so furrowed that probably hurts. “It’s not. And I’m here to help.” I narrow my eyes at her “Why are you being nice to me?” I open my arms to show the sparing room “Bringing me here, offering help… I’m the enemy, Miss Romanoff.” She shakes her head. “No. You were a victim who were weaponized, yes. Nothing, but another casualty.” I’m still not convinced, and she knows. “Look, Fury trusts you and I trust Fury. Remember all those Hydra’s bases and facilities that you gave us?” I nodded. “We paid a visit to a few of them, the intel you gave us matched so far.” “Does this mean you’ll let me go?” I asked. “Do you really think that you would be safe out there?” Her green orbs are boring into mine. I sign, looking away. “Stark’s Tower is one of the safest buildings in this world.” “Then, what are we?” What am I, prisoner with benefits? A smirk makes its way to her lips. “The enemy of my enemy…”

Surprisingly enough, Romanoff led me to the tower’s kitchen and offered me a sandwich for lunch. I’m a bit uneasy with this interaction, don’t know how to act, don’t know what to expect. I take my surroundings to mentally calculate an escape route, she knows the place, but I believe that I could fight with her if she tries to kill me with a butterknife. She doesn’t try to make small talk and I’m glad. To fight, survive and punishments are the only interactions that I’m used to. I don’t know how to function in a normal life, if that exists.

I recognize a newcomer, Captain America in all his glory. Romanoff puts a plate in front of me while speaks. “Hi, Cap. Joining us for lunch?” “What is she doing here, Natasha?” “Everything she told us matched so far, Fury trusts her. Since she’s helping us against Hydra, I’m willing to give her the benefit of doubt.” “If Black Widow is willing to trust you...” He offered his hand for me to shake. “I’m Steve Rogers. Captain America if you will.” I took his hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure, Sir. I’m… hm.” I let go of his hand, suddenly I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. “I don’t know how to introduce myself.” A humorless smile grace my lips. “Guess Hydra never taught me that part.” “I think we should call her by her call sign. Maverick.” Widow supplies With a shrug, Rogers says. “It’s catchy. And if I called you Major, you’d outrank me.” He whispers the last part “I wouldn’t like that; Tony could use you against me.” The Redhead sitting next to me let out a heartly laugh which is soon joined by Rogers’s and I’m mesmerized. So, this is how people function in daily basis. I always wondered if being caged in a dark room waiting to be called for missions was only my reality or everyone’s. Guess that seeing them here, so relaxed having a meal in a wide kitchen with a meaningless conversation was answer enough. I’m amazed how light, how comfortable they seemed to be with each other. I wonder…

“Mav?” I’m brought out of my reverie by Romanoff’s voice. “Sorry, what?” “I said that your intel about anti-aircraft weapons were crucial to help us reach Hydra’s bases unscathed” Rogers says. “Didn’t thought they would have so many.” “As I told miss Romanoff before, everyone was paranoid. Even with all the guns, defenses, and secret locations. Nothing could ease their fear. Now I know that they were afraid of you.” I chewed a bit. “Have you guys closed all the ones I gave you, already?” “Not yet. We’re looking for something. So, we’re choosing our targets according with your intel and ours.” I looked at him. “What are you looking for?” This was a sensitive subject, if his subtle shift was any indication. He was uneasy to share this with me. Couldn’t blame him, though, I was still enemy. An acquaintance enemy, but still. “It’s a high-tech device. Extremely dangerous, especially in their hands.” I didn’t miss the way he chose the word ‘their’ indicating that I wasn’t part of ‘them’ and I appreciated the gesture. This device tough… “There is a lot of facilities build for experiments. Those were the ones always exchanging data, research, personnel…” I was deep in thought. “But there was this one in Sokovia. They were always asking for more subjects, or volunteers as they called.” I wet my lips. “I was ordered to be the stealthier that I could, my hole unit stayed there. I was the only one to come back.” I looked up to him. “Have you guys tried that one, yet?” “Sokovia?” He repeated. “No, there’s little to none about Sokovia in our files. Isn’t an old building with ancient, abandoned equipment and vehicles?” “There’s nothing old and abandoned in Sokovia, mister Rogers.” I rest my fork in my empty plate. “On the contrary, they are the busiest. They’re just keeping an incredible low profile.” He turns to Romanoff. “Nat, contact the team. We’re going on a trip.” “Don’t forget your jacket.”

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

Apparently, Sokovia was a huge success with a very big H, because I was invited to a party, by Tony Stark himself. Now, my dilemma was increased, if I didn’t know how to act in a simple conversation. How do they expect me to function in a party, with their friends and a lot of them knows who I am. Plus, I’ve never been in a party. This is bound to be a disaster.

Yep. I was right. There was a crazy robot giving a speech about Avengers being nothing more than killers. Then, all hell broke loose. I’m fighting killer robots in a fancy party room. Without thinking, miss Hill handled me a gun. Guess that ‘the enemy of my enemy’ is really a thing around here. In the end, my metal arm did more damage. As soon as Thor’s hammer crashed the last robot, the party was over.

#cap marvel #captain marvel #carol danvers #carol danvers x original character #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x fem!reader #captain marvel x reader #age of ultron #ghost of you #infinity stones #natasha romanoff #Ghost #original female character #original character #marvel fanfic series #marvel x reader

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luciesbabyboy · 3 years

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The Letter.

Something momma and me wrote together, the background to this is fact, the solution is pure fantasy. But OMG this was such fun to write together.

Steve came home to an empty house after 21 days working away. It had been the longest stretch working away and he was completely broken. His wife had sent him a message earlier saying she was sorry she wouldn’t be there when he got home from his flight, but not to worry she would be home at 9pm, she was just having coffee with an old friend.

He made himself a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa and flicked on the TV. His eye was drawn to the fireplace and an plain white envelope with “Darling, please read me” written in his wife’s handwriting

Having picked it up he returned to the sofa and gently prised open the envelope, his nostrils caught the sent of his wifes perfume and he smiled at the thought of her. He opened the letter and began to read.

“Darling,

First, let me tell you how much I love you and how proud of you I am for everything you do. You make me feel so loved and our time apart is only made so much better when we are together. However, I’m really worried about you. I know you’re not telling me the whole truth about the hours you are putting in, but I know as you read this letter that you are completely destroyed mentally and physically and its will take you days to recover. But you’re not recovering, you’re surviving, you’re not eating properly, you’re not getting the sleep you need, you’re not getting any exercise, you’re waking up, going to work, eating crap to feed your depleted energy, you’re working 15 hours a day and 7 days a week and you’ve just done this for 21 days. How you’re not in hospital I really don’t know.

What you have done at that business, is beyond remarkable, you’ve single handed built it to an extremely successful, profitable business, but you have to look after yourself. If you don’t I fear you’ll self implode. I’ve seen you when you come home from a tough period away and I can tell you’re just minutes from going down the drain. How you recover enough to face another week is beyond me.

We need to get you back to where you were mentally and physically 4 years ago, cooking and eating great healthy food, loving life, exercising and reading....remember how you used to soak up books, almost a book every week, and we used to sit listening to classic alums on the record player. Now you just sit down and because you’re exhausted you don’t engage with much. I understand, but we used to have so much fun, we’d spend time with friends and family or just being on our own.

I know you’re at breaking point, and I fear that any day I’m going to get a call from your work saying you’ve had a heart attack or a mental breakdown. Thats why, this week, I contacted your CEO and she agrees with me. Again she is amazed at what you have achieved for the company and the group, but she agrees that you’re on the verge. The business will cope, you’ve built the foundations, you have got the staff in there running it, you now need to step away and relax.

So from this weekend, with your bosses blessing, you have a 10 week leave of absence. We have 10 weeks to reset you, to get you back into a mental state that gives me confidence that you’ll not kill yourself before your next birthday.

And I know exactly how to rest you “little man” 😊

On the other side of this letter is a 10 week program to take you back to basics, to allow your brain and body to dump all of that stress and then to slowly build you back up. You will, if you agree, give up all responsibilities and I will make sure you are looked after like the gorgeous little man you are.

Weeks 1 & 2

Regressed to a 9 month old. Momma will take care of your every need, she will bathe you, feed you, clothe you, read you bed time stories, cuddle you, change your nappies, love you unconditionally.

During this period, you are not allowed to walk, talk (9 month olds can’t do either), you communicate by using your hands and either crying or babbling. Just like a little baby. You are allowed to crawl around the house, but you are to use your nappies for their true intended purpose. No phones or computers and no tv except early learning tv like sesame street and in the night garden. Early bed times and day time naps. Me feeding you with a spoon, having all your drinks in baby bottles. Millions of cuddles on the sofa.

Weeks 3 & 4

My little man is now a proper handful as a 2 year old: You can toddle around the house and can use big words, but you still need momma for cuddles and everything else in weeks 1 & 2. You’re still not able to use the toilet, you can watch a few more interesting things on tv and you can play with lego and cars and colour with crayons. Your food is a less babyish, and you love food time and getting all messy with eating with your hands. You need to ask momma for everything you need, even though you can reach the counter top, cookies and treats are off limits without asking. Time out on the naughty step if you get caught doing something momma has said you can’t.

Weeks 5 & 6

Oh my, what a cute little 3 year old you are. So independent, but so naughty, trying to do things yourself and getting into all kinds of scrapes. Momma still has to tie your shoe laces and get you dressed and you still have problems with the potty, so momma is keeping you in nappies for a little while longer. But you’re old enough now to let momma know when you need to go poopy. Where she can undo your nappy and sit you on the big boy potty and wipe your cute little bottom after, and put you in a fresh nappy. You’ll be in a lot of trouble if you forget to tell momma you need to go number two and momma will smack that poopy bottom and make you sit in a dirty nappy to remind you what a dirty boy you are. We can now watch Disney cartons together and you’re learning your abc’s and numbers so well. You still need nap times, and momma needs to still take you for a bath, but can leave you to play with your bath time toys.

Weeks 7 & 8

6 months older and such a handful for this momma. You’re getting much better at potty time, so momma has decided to let you wear pull ups. You need to tell momma when you need to go potty and she will pull your trousers and pull ups down and sit you on the big plastic potty. Little boys who are potty training still need nappies at night and you’ll be wrapped up tightly in a big fluffy nappy after bath time every night. Of course I’m sure you’ll forget about needing to go potty which is why momma will constantly ask you if you need to go, however if you say no and then wet your pull ups, you can expect momma to pull those down and put you over her knee for a well earned bare botty spanking. Momma is going to be strict with you and any rule breaking will result in a red bottom and corner time. But now you’re older you can help momma bake cookies and cakes and she’ll let you lick the spoon. Lots of cuddles with my little man and you can help momma around the house. You’ll look so cute in just your Spider man pullups and dinosaur t-shirts. It makes momma’s job of checking you for wetness so much easier

Weeks 9 & 10

Oh my you’ve grown up and momma is getting you ready to go “back to school” You’re nearly fully potty trained with only the occasional wetting accident. So momma has gone out and bought you some proper big boy briefs. They have lots of cool designs on them. Spiderman obviously, I’ve got several pairs of them, some other marvel prints and some basic plain colours so you can feel like a big boy when we go out. Momma is still going to ask you if you need the potty, especially if she sees you doing your little potty dance. As you’re bigger now, you have lots more responsibilities, you are big enough to put away your toys after play time is over, you can read books by yourself. You help momma clean up the house and do the laundry. And you can help her big person cooking. We have put the big plastic potty away in the cupboard and now you’re using the big boy toilet all by yourself and wiping our bottom properly after poopies. Momma is so proud of your journey to being a proper little man, but understands you still get into mischief. You sometimes still have little wet accidents in your big boy pants and that means momma will turn that cute little bottom of your red and put you back in a nappy for the rest of the day as punishment. You can go the whole night without wetting your night time nappy, but momma knows you sleep more soundly having one on, so she still gets you properly wrapped up for bed every night.

So that’s it my love. I need you to be better, to get you’re head in the correct space you can be a proper functioning adult. We’re going to have so much fun over the next 10 weeks. I’ll take you to the park, we’ll go for picnics and walk the dog and feed the ducks. You’ll get an allowance to spend on sweeties at the shops if you’ve been a good boy. You’ll get to go shopping with momma and she’ll make sure your bottom is checked when we’re out for wetness.

Now the bad news. You’re not allowed any alcohol for the whole 10 weeks. You have to do everything momma says without questions. Any breaking of my rules will result in you getting a proper hard bare bottom spanking. You are never allow to touch your nappy at any time or play with what is in it 😊 Which brings me to “Mommas needs” Obviously momma has needs, that only a grown up can provide, seeing you naked 4 or 5 times a day as I change your nappy, or bathe you, or even when I turn that tight little butt of yours over my knee will inevitably make momma hot in all kinds of places. Therefore momma is going to need you to fix this her whenever she needs to satisfy her needs. I will take you out of your nappy and you will be allowed to be a proper man, then straight after we’ll go back to our plan.

If you agree to this plan, and giving me full responsibility for you over the next 10 weeks, just send me a text with a “Baby emoji” and the words “I’m ready momma”

Love you so much baby boy.

Your darling wife.

He let this sink in for a moment, and an emotional wave came over him. He felt so loved in that very moment that he started to cry, all the stress that had built up was too much for him. With tears in his eyes he reached for his phone and sent the message his wife needed to see.

His phone immediately buzzed back with a heart emoji and 10 seconds later buzzed back again with the following message:

“Finally and you’re not going to like this one little bit. When I get home, I want you standing in the corner in just your underwear. I want you to get a high backed chair from the dining room and place it in the middle of the lounge. You will also need to get the paddle, the hairbrush and the cane from under the bed. I know you have constantly lied to me about the hours you are doing and I know you’ve been going back into work when you said you are tucked up in bed. So I’m going to really punish you for this behaviour so you remember what happens to naughty boys who lie to me. This is not going to be a normal spanking where I turn your bottom red and then we make love afterwards. I’m going to teach you a lesson through your bottom that you will hopefully remember. If you end up sobbing and begging me to stop then I know its working, but only I will decide when the punishment is over. You will be so thankful to be put back into nappies tonight to protect a very sore bottom when you sit down over the next few days. I’m sorry baby, but I have to show you that lies and sneaking around are not good for our relationship and I’m only doing this for your own good. Love you, see you in 30 minutes. Don’t disobey me or it will 10 times worse.

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 4 years

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Supernatural Isn’t Just A Show

I started watching Supernatural fifteen years ago, just like many of you. I followed the paths of two young men who hunted the evils in the world that the rest of us couldn’t have imagined on a good day. Vampires and demons and monsters. Greek gods, angels, Lucifer himself. The stories were heartfelt and humorous and dark and tender. They challenged us to see that monsters could be good, and being evil was a choice. They brought us into a reality of hope and fighting the whole world if it meant that your family was safe.

That’s what the show was really about, you see. The hunting and the laughter and the dark and everything in between was just the icing on the cake. The real story? That was family. Two brothers who came together and saved the world, again and again. Two brothers who fought side by side, and sometimes with each other, and always for what was right, even if the drawn line was hard to see. Two brothers whose devotion bled into the world around them and brought other amazing people into the fold. Two brothers who grew to have a circle of people who were the epitome of family, because ‘family don’t end with blood.’ Castiel and Charlie and Bobby and Kevin and Crowley and Jack and the list goes on. A list that extended beyond the characters, beyond the actors, beyond the show itself. One that includes you, me... JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey.

Let me tell you about JoAnn.

Her daughter and I went to school together, a beautiful young woman named Sarah. Over the years I spent so much time at their house and with JoAnn that it was beyond easy to see them as family. And JoAnn became incredibly special to me. My mother and I have always had a strained, tumultuous relationship with very little in the way of affection. JoAnn, however, became the emotional mother I’d never had. We would laugh together (she had a killer sense of humor,) I would call her just to share something or vent (there was never a moment she wasn’t willing to listen,) she was able to hold all four of my babies after they were born (and they lovingly called her Auntie JoAnn.) And I even managed to get her addicted to Supernatural.

She loved Dean, especially Dean’s rear end. (-wiggles brows-)

Shortly before her first and only grandson was born, JoAnn became terminally ill and passed away. She never got to see her grandson, or hold him, or watch him grow up. I think about that all the time, especially when I see a picture of him that Sarah has posted. When I’m watching Supernatural, and Dean says something familiar or I remember a moment in the show that JoAnn particularly loved, I think about JoAnn and how much I wish she could have seen her grandbaby. And how much I wish her daughter, the lovely Sarah, could have experienced that, too. I wonder if JoAnn would have shared this show with her adorable little grandson. I miss that woman every day.

Now, let me tell you about Steven.

His father, Steve, is one of my best friends. I’ve known him for over twenty years. And when his three children were little, I used to babysit them. His son, Steven, was born with severe Cerebral Palsy. He was nonverbal, wheelchair bound, and was tube fed. But he was also the funniest, brightest, most happy boy I’d ever met. He had the most brilliant smile, and the greatest laugh. And whenever someone he loved or really liked walked into a room, his eyes would light up like stars.

When Steven hit adulthood, I would help his Dad out when Steven was at his house. We liked to watch movies and tv shows together. And I offered up the suggestion of Supernatural. It became like tradition after that. We would all be there in the living room, Steven on the floor with his Dad, and we’d watch the episodes in order. It always made me happy, to be able to share that with them.

About four years ago, Steven became ill, landing in the hospital. While there, his heart gave out. He passed away without ever having finished the show he had grown to love. Since then, his Dad hasn’t been able to watch anymore. It’s too painful. Too hard to think that Steven isn’t there to watch it with him. I understand completely. Because I’ll watch an old episode and remember Steven’s unabashed laughter. And I wish he was still here to watch it with us. I talked with Steve about giving it another try. He heard the show is ending soon, and I think he is finally ready to see it through, to finish it for both himself and his son. Let me tell you about Jeffrey.

Jeffrey has lived in NYC for over 20 years now. He is my big brother, and was diagnosed with different mental illnesses, including Borderline Personality Disorder. He’s still made a life for himself that makes him happy in a place I know for sure I would never survive in. (I’m a small town girl, through and through.) And it was because of my brother that I found out about GISHWHES.

You have to understand, my brother doesn’t open up to people easily or step out of his comfort zone for just anyone or anything. But in doing this scavenger hunt? My brother walked around NYC in a robot costume, including taking the subway and walking crowded streets. He also wore a bikini made of lettuce, and not once was shy about it. He dove right in and gave it his all in order to help other people, and to this day I am still insanely proud of him for it.

After everything he went through, from living on the subway for nearly two years (and never telling us) to going from corporate work (which he hated) to doing something he really loved (comic books, baby) to being hospitalized for suicidal tendencies to finally being diagnosed with things he had struggled with all his life but never had taken care of, and finally having a sense of mental health in a new job as a live-in dog nanny, this amazing man is finally happy. And when I think of that, I think of the video of him wandering around dressed as a robot because of GISHWHES. Now, if you’ll bare with me... let me tell you about myself.

I am a pansexual woman married to my best friend with four amazing children.

I have depression and anger issues that I have struggled most of life with.

I have spent a good chunk of my adult life being a stay-at-home-mom and only now am going back to school to learn a new career. I have rescued and taken care of animals since I was 17, something my children have grown to love as well. And I am happier now than I have ever been. But it wasn’t always that way.

I had my best friend die in my arms when I was 12, that being my first experience with death and grief and unchecked anger. And I grew up a lonely kid who spent most of my time hiding how depressed I was, doing everything I could to take care of everyone else in my life, the majority of them never knowing how much I actually struggled with just living. The first love of my life was killed in a car accident when I was 16. My parents divorced when I was 17 and I dropped out of high school, working three jobs just so I wouldn’t be home with my mother.

I was married to a selfish and controlling man at 18, had my first child at 19, second at 20, third at 23, and divorced at 23 with three small children and no job. I was terrified and didn’t know what I was going to do. Everything was up and down and inside out.

But I have a very clear memory of sitting down one night, after the kids had gone to sleep and the apartment was quiet and I was alone with nothing but my thoughts and the television… and a repeat episode of Supernatural (Season 2, Episode 16 – Roadkill) was on. (Spoilers ahead if you, by chance, have not seen this episode.)

In that moment, I was barely paying attention to it. I was a wreck, filled with guilt and fear. My face was covered in tears, and I was sobbing as I sat there and rocked with a pillow held in my grip (I oddly remember that pillow vividly because it had rough edges.) But as the episode progressed, I began to quiet. I remember listening intently to Sam and Molly as they sat on an old bed in Greeley’s home, looking at the letters he’d written to his wife.

“It’s a love letter he wrote her… my God, it’s beautiful… I don’t understand how a guy like this can turn into a monster.” Molly said to Sam. I mirrored that sentiment, in my own way. (I know my situation wasn’t the same.) I’d married a man I’d thought I’d loved. A man I thought loved me. But his actions and selfishness lead to the downfall of our marriage, our family, and my (then) situation. But I had been the one to make the decision to end things, right? After everything he’d done, I couldn’t be with someone I couldn’t trust. And it wasn’t just about me… it was about our children. They needed a mother who was happy…

At the end of the episode, Molly is faced with the reality that she has been dead the entire time and that her husband David had already said his goodbyes, moving on without her.

“What am I supposed to do?” Molly asked, in tears.

“Just… let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that… we think you’ll move on.” Sam responded gently.

Isn’t that what I should be doing? I thought. Because by that point, I’d been stuck in grief and fear for months. I don’t think I knew it until that point, but I’d been holding onto it like a security blanket because it made sense, it seemed like I deserved it.

“But you don’t know where…” Molly responded, her voice still soft with tears.

“No... Molly, you don’t belong here. Haven’t you suffered long enough?” Sam asked. “It’s time… it’s time to go.”

I sat there in stunned silence.

As odd as it sounds, it felt like he was talking to me. Because for years I’d tried to keep our marriage together because I thought I had to for our children. For years, I’d practically raised those three children alone. For months, I had sat in a holding pattern, waiting for my shoulders to finally break under all the weight from the failure I felt and the misery I was drowning in, doing everything I could to be a good mother with nothing to fall back on. But then I watched Molly walk into the light, tears streaming down her face, a smile ghosting across her lips, and I realized… I really had suffered long enough.

“You really think she’s going to a better place?” Dean asked after Molly moved on.

“I hope so.” Sam replied.

“I guess we’ll never know, not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean said with half a smirk.

“Doesn’t really matter, Dean. Hope’s kind of the whole point.” Sam said.

And there it was. What I’d been missing. Hope.

This show, these two actors, those two brothers opened my eyes to something that had been right in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know what I was going to do next. But I was certain I had suffered enough. I was certain I needed to move on, for my children, for myself. And as the episode ended, I wiped my tears off my face, shut off the tv and kissed every one of my sleeping children a few dozen times. And I went to bed thinking about the depiction of that light, that hope.

Two years later, I married my best friend – the love of my life, a good man who never lies, never hurts me or my kids, lifts me up when I feel down, makes me laugh every day, treats me far better than I will ever think I deserve. We had a baby boy together, bringing our family to a total of four amazing kids who all call him Dad. We have our own home which we work so hard for, we have a plethora of animals who make every day adventurous, and I am finally on a career track I feel excited about. All because I decided to stop living in my suffering, and move on.

That is why this show is not ‘just a show.’ For me, anyway. Because of JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey. Because of the hope I found with the show itself. And I know I am not alone in at least this sentiment.

Every season since, I have watched the episodes. I have followed the stories and witnessed the amazing things this fandom has done for each other and complete strangers. I have seen people’s lives changed by the show and the actors, I have been able to connect with other people I never would have known, and get closer to those I already did. I have shared this series with my children, who all love it and the main characters as much as I do.

And right now, as we get near the end of the series, I am not ashamed to admit that I am hurting. I feel a genuine heartache. A genuine loss. I feel like a part of my history is coming to a close. But like at that moment when my world was inside out and I was trapped in my own little hell, I have hope.

I don’t know what waits for me. I never have. I don’t know what awaits any of us. But this show will never really die. The connections we’ve made, the way the stories and people have touched us… that never really goes away.

Whether we watch Supernatural on repeat on a bad day, or follow the actors as they move on to new adventures, or get someone in our life to start watching it, this show will always be around. Just like hope. And… isn’t it like Sam said? “Hope’s kind of the whole point.”

So, hold on to hope. And message me if you’re grieving, if you need an ear from a fellow fan, or just someone to shoot Supernatural memes back and forth with. We’re a family. You, me, all of us. And I’ll always be here for you.

(P.S. I will ship Destiel till the bitter end.)

Love,

QuietDarkness (stars-are-just-ghosts)

#Supernatural #SPN #forever a fan #season 15 #this isn't the end #hope is the whole point #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #GISHWHES #misha collins #jared padalecki #Jensen Ackles #some spn spoilers

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moontheoretist · 3 years

Quote

On his third day in, the door opened and Lennie walked into the room. She stood on the other side of the bars. Her expression was dark. ‘Zemo was caught in Moscow. He had a video tape on him. Do you want to hazard a guess as to what was on that video tape?’ Steve scowled at her. ‘Apparently, someone recorded the Winter Soldier killing Howard and Maria Stark.’ Steve’s blood ran cold. Bucky had been caught on tape? ‘We all saw it.’ Lennie glared at him. ‘Seeing as Tony is currently recovering from the shock, I thought I’d drop in and ask. Did you know about this?’ ‘No.’ Lennie glanced up. ‘Rogers, this building contains quite a few telepaths. I’m currently in contact with one. Don’t lie to me.’ She rolled her neck. ‘How long have you known?’ Steve swallowed. ‘Two years.’ ‘And why didn’t you tell Tony?’ ‘He didn’t need to know.’ ‘Bullshit.’ Lennie didn’t give him a chance to interrupt her. ‘Tony Stark was their son. He was the first person with a right to know. It would have set him at ease to know. Do you have any idea what the cover story for this was?’ Of course he knew that! ‘A car accident.’ Lennie smirked. ‘That Howard was drunk behind the wheel. For 25 years, Tony blamed his father for that accident; it tainted his memory of him. To know that his dad was stone sober and there was a third party involved would have been a load off for him.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What Tony didn’t need was to find out by watching a video of it. I’ll ask again. Why didn’t you tell him? Was it because it was your best bud?’ ‘That wasn’t Bucky!’ Steve launched himself at the bars. ‘It was HYDRA! They brainwashed him!’ ‘Yes, they did.’ Lennie’s voice was cold. ‘And he will receive treatment for it. But you concealed a murder. Technically, that makes you an accessory to murder.’ She inclined her head. ‘I saw the CCTV footage, you know. The one where you said to Tony “take of the suit and what are you”. Shall I tell you? Tony Stark is a genius. He’s compassionate and considerate. He cares about the people he harms, especially if it’s unintentional.’ ‘Since when?’ Steve demanded. ‘Projection will get you nowhere, Mr. Rogers.’ Lennie shook her head. ‘That suit didn’t come out of nowhere, you know. He made it as part of a plan to survive, and then he used it to help others survive. Aside from his brain, his ingenuity is his best asset. He can look at a problem – any problem – and come up with a solution others can only dream of.’ ‘Howard was a better man,’ Steve snapped. ‘Let’s talk about that, shall we?’ Lennie walked over. ‘Both Howard and Tony built you everything you ever asked of them. Howard spent most of his life looking for you in a frozen wasteland, forsaking his relationship with his son as a side-effect. Tony did his very best to help you adapt to the 21st century when you were found. And this is how you repay them? For their supposed lack of rectitude, they were far better friends to you than you ever were to them.’ Steve glared at her. He tried to come up with an answer, but nothing came to him. ‘So…I give your question back to you: take away the serum and what are you?’ She turned her back on him. ‘According to what I’ve garnered, you’re a weedy little asthmatic with immunodeficiency disorder and short man syndrome. Of the two, the latter is worse.’ ‘Short man syndrome?’ Steve demanded. Lennie turned at the door and smirked at him. ‘Dude, when a little guy goes around getting into fights with bigger guys because they are “bullying” him, he has short man syndrome. See you in court.’

Magneto by TheSovereigntyofReality

#BUUUUUURNNN!#steve rogers critical #mcu steve rogers critical #magneto #erik lensherr #tony stark #howard stark #bucky barnes #zemo #short man syndrome #I am cackling I never realized Steve has this syndrome lol

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Meet Portia.

Word Count: 3483

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Wanda, Natasha, Sam, Steve, Pepper

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Childbirth, Premature Baby

A/N: I’d like to thank @take-me-to-ny for the idea of the first half of this epilogue. I know you’ve all been looking forward to finally meeting Portia and her time has come!

2 Years Later...

His heavy eyes were glued to the cardiac monitor before him and his soft pink lips parted slightly when he let out a shaky breath. He blinked away the slumber that threatened his eyelids as he looked over at Sharon Carter. “Push one of epi.” Dr. Barnes was rather hopeful as he watched the nurse push the syringe of Epinephrine into the premature infant’s delicate body, his eyes darting back to the monitor before he let out another sigh of disappointment. “No change. Heart rate’s at a thirty.” He knew that at twenty weeks, it was highly unlikely for this newborn to survive. At this rate, she probably had another hour or two before he would have to call it. But Bucky was not willing to give up, at least not yet.

The Dr. Barnes who had once claimed to have a cold dead heart would have given up at this point. But he was a different man now. Gone were his signature locks of dark hair? His beard rarely made an appearance nowadays, for he was always clean shaven. Rumor had it that it was his wife, the other Dr. Barnes, had once told him that she preferred his clean shave over the light stubble. Apparently, he had been shaving every single morning ever since in order to keep his wife happy. A husband of every woman’s dream, he really was.

His wedding band had been removed from his left ring finger when he had gotten into work that morning, but the tan mark was still quite evident. It had been burned into his skin by now, reminding everyone he came across that he was a married man. He was no longer the carefree Casanova of the hospital or the workaholic who always snooped around the premises to find a reason not to go home after his shift ended. He had built himself a whole life away from work now.

“She’s not going to make it, is she, doc?”

Bucky shook his head at Sharon. “At this rate, she could only keep going on for another hour or two.” He informed with a frown. “But I’m not giving up that easily...” He was well aware that both the mother and the father of this preemie were currently in surgery, having suffered a handful of serious injuries. They had been brought into the ER after an unfortunate car accident, causing Pepper to perform an emergency c-section on the mother to save their little one. He was unsure if either one of three of them would survive at this point, but he was hopeful. He was sure that her parents would want her to survive this and live on. After all, as a father to be himself, he would always want his child to live on. Knowing what it meant to be a father had really changed his perspective on how to be a doctor. Once again, he would give you the credit for making him better. “We still haven’t tried the oldest treatment in the book.”

Sharon had given the man a look of utter confusion, for she had been sure that they had tried everything that was medically possible to ensure that this newborn survives the day. She saw the numbers; she knew how common it was. Preemies who were delivered so early rarely make it through the first twenty four hours after birth. “What treatment?”

“I mean the treatment that a mother should always give her child.” He replied with a soft chuckle, tugging off his bright pink NICU gown. “But in this case, it will have to be me...”

Her eyes grew wide as she watched him remove his scrub shirt and toss is aside. “Bucky, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shhh!” He was quick to place his index finger against his lips. “Have you ever heard of the kangaroo care? Kangaroos keep their babies against their bodies. Skin on skin contact is proven to help newborns thrive. You know, that’s why babies are often laid on the mother’s chest right after they’re born. We encourage skin on skin contact to... allow for the mother and child to have this bond, yes, but also because of physiological reasons. This method was used long before incubators were invented and it is a lot more effective.” He told her. His large hands were gentle as they scooped up the tiny human; her head was barely the size of the palm of his hand. But he held her gently against his bare chest. “When I hold her like this, she’s able to... feel my warmth and her body picks it up too. She can feel my heart beating against her and... her little heart would also pick it up.” He motioned towards the monitor, the numbers finally having changed as the infant’s heart rate began to increase. “See that? This little one’s not ready to give up.”

“Oh... wow. That’s crazy... that’s amazing, she just... she’s really... I can’t believe I never knew about this until now.” The blonde haired nurse was slightly surprised, but she turned over to look at him when a smile. “You’re going to be such a good dad and you know that, right? You’re going to be the best dad in this whole entire world, man. You’re... so prepared and so... good with kids. You’re so good with kids. I still remember when Sarah was born and Steve made you the godfather. Boy, you were terrified about the responsibility but now, you’re... you’re going to be the best dad.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he paced slowly back and forth, looking down at the newborn as he spoke softly. “Hey, little one... I know it’s scary, I know you’re fighting... but you’re not alone, no. I got you... I’m here and... We’re going to get through this, okay? We’ll get through this together.” Holding onto this child at that moment, he could not help but wonder how it would feel to hold his own child in his hands one day. He had finally finished with the nursery last night and it was only a matter of time until you went into labor. He was excited for this new chapter in life, for fatherhood and for the two of you to have your little family.

As he was snapped out of his thoughts, he was quick to notice that he had managed to gather a small audience within the NICU. It was only a matter of seconds before a crowd had formed outside as well, those who passed by the NICU pressing their faces against the window to get a better look at the handsome doctor who stood shirtless with a newborn child. What a show! Some of the other nurses who had been keeping an eye on the newborns watched him rather fondly, the older ones nodding with approval. They were all aware that this man’s wife, their beloved Y/N, was due to give birth in a day or two.

Sam had been the first one to walk into the NICU in search of Sharon, his brows furrowed at the sight of his shirtless friend before his lips curled into a smirk. “I thought Y/N was the one who was pregnant. When did you start to lactate?” He asked with a mocking tone in his voice, leaning in to peck his girlfriend’s lips. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hi.” Sharon giggled at his remark.

“I’m saving a life here, Wilson.” He had told him with an eye roll.

“Right, you’re saving one life and... killing all the ladies.”

Then it had been Natasha, who had followed Sam into the NICU and just stood there with her hands on her hips. “Yeah... that’s right, fellas. My best friend bangs all of that!” She had announced as she motioned towards Bucky before turning to see the small crowd of interns. “Let’s move along! The abs and the man have been off the market for ages!”

Bucky let out another laugh as he walked up to her. “Romanoff, really?”

“You know, I just overheard an intern telling another one that you were standing half naked in the NICU. I just needed to see it to believe it.” She told him with a laugh. “Man, you do love a good audience, don’t you?”

Continuing to pace back and forth, he rolled his eyes at her. “I’m only doing what is professionally necessary, Natasha. I’m giving skin on skin contact to a newborn whose parents are both in surgery. It’s as simple as that.” As he turned over towards the door, his lips curled into a smile at the sight of you walking up to him. He had always believed that it was a myth for a woman to be glowing during pregnancy. But he had come to learn how true it was seeing you like this.

“Professionally necessary... right.” Sam snickered, hearing the commotion behind him and turning around to see you. “Of course, they run when they know they can’t be ogling at you with your wife around...”

Nine months pregnant and glowing as brightly as ever, your hand resting protectively over your bump as your swollen feet treaded across the tiled floor of the NICU. You smiled when you saw your husband, the way he stood shirtless with a newborn pressed against his chest making your heart swell. “Oh God...” You felt your eyes glaze over. “Is that the preemie?”

He gave you a nod. “Yeah, it’s her. She’s a little fighter.”

“Steve and Tony told me to let you know that the parents are okay. The police have contacted the family and they should be here soon.” You informed him, quickly wiping away your tears. “Sorry, my hormones are really...” Seeing that baby only made you want your baby to come sooner. You knew that it would only be a less than a week until your little girl would be born. But seeing Bucky like this did not help much.

Natasha watched you for a moment before wrapping her arm around you. “Seeing him like this just gets the oxytocin going, doesn’t it?”

You winced slightly as you felt a trickle down your legs, your eyes growing wide at the realization of what had just happened. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but you could care less about it. “Oh yeah... it sure does.” You looked over at Nat and then at Sam, swallowing the lump in your throat as you looked down at your feet. “Um... shit. This is really happening. This is really happening right now.” Who would have thought that seeing your husband shirtless and holding a newborn would cause you to go into labor?

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Natasha gasped as she looked down at your feet before looking back up at Bucky. “Barnes, why don’t you let the nurses take over for you and put your fucking shirt on?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he quickly nodded, handing his little patient to Sharon and reaching for his scrub shirt. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Thank God, this happened down the hall from Pepper’s office.”

One of the other nurses brought over a wheelchair for you to sit down.

“James!” You reached for his hand as he quickly put his shirt on, the tears continuing to stream down your face. “James, I can’t. I can’t... what if I’m not a good mom? What if... what if I turn out to be just like her? What if I... what if I ruin her life?”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Nat scolded you as she began pushing the wheelchair out of the NICU. “Honey, you’re going to be the best mom on the whole fucking planet. And look at this one; he’s going around giving skin on skin contact to these preemies. Just imagine how much more he’d do to your own kid.”

You knew that she was right. Your James was a perfect man in every way and you knew that he would be the best father your child could have asked for. “I know... but-”

“Y/N...” He cut you off as he stopped Nat from pushing your wheelchair and knelt down to reach you. His hands cupped your tear stained cheeks. “Hey, listen to me... we’re going to do this right now and we’re going to do this for the rest of our lives. We’re going to be the best parents our little angel could have asked for, because we’re better than that. We’re better together and we’re going to do this together, okay?”

You looked down at him as you sniffled, nodding your head slightly. “Promise me that she won’t ever... ever be put in a position where she would need to jump out of her bedroom window because freezing to death seemed to be a better option than living with us.”

“I promise... and you know, I’d never break that promise. I’ll love her more than I love you and I’ll always show her how much she’s loved.” He told you as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “I won’t let her go...”

As Bucky walked out of the OR after scrubbing out, it felt as though an entire day had passed while he had been in surgery. But it had only been four hours according the clock that was hanging on the wall before him. Four long hours since he had left your bedside to perform surgery on a patient whom he had been working with since had been a resident. One would think that being a new dad for a whole day would mean that he would finally jump at the chance of taking a break from work. But he could not stop worrying about that patient and you had insisted that you would be right where he left you when he got back.

Wanda Maximoff had been waiting for him as he walked down the hallway, handing him a cup of coffee as she followed him towards the elevator. “Don’t worry; it’s a lukewarm vanilla bean latte. Just chug it down before you get to the maternity ward and you can thank me later.” She told him with a chuckle, seeing his reaction when he accepted the cup from her. “You’re going to need to stock up on all of that caffeine for the next few weeks, dad.”

“How is she?” He asked her, downing his beverage in one go as he entered the elevator.

“Which ‘she’ are we talking about?”

“Both.” He replied, rolling his eyes at her as he tapped his foot anxiously. It had only been four hours since he had last seen his girls but it felt like more than that. He felt really impatient.

“Well, the mom... is okay. The bleeding has stopped a little, but she’s still in pain. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s had to...” She let out a sigh, making awkward hand motions that could clearly not express what she was trying to imply. “My niece is an angel though. She sleeps like her mother but she doesn’t let her mother sleep, not that Y/N wants to sleep anyways. She needs it but she’s... can you go in there and convince her to get some sleep? Her body just went through one hell of a change and she needs to get as much rest a she can.”

Bucky let out a chuckle at Wanda’s words. “Got it.” As he got out of the elevator, he tossed his coffee cup in the trash can nearby before jogging down the hallway to where your hospital room was.

Portia Natalia Barnes was born at 11:28 am, almost two days ago now. She was crying at the top of her lungs as she came into this world, making up for all the quiet tears that her mother had shed during her childhood. The first time her father came in contact with her, his left hand had been clutching tightly onto her mother’s. His right hand had taken the scissors from Pepper to cut the umbilical cord. When she had been handed to her mother, she had stopped crying in an instant. It was as though she knew that her mother’s arm was where she was the safest. Her mother would keep her safe no matter what.

She weighed six pounds and nine ounces, a tiny little thing in your arms even though she had taken more than a push and a few tears to be brought into this world. Motherhood really was a reward to all that pain. “Portia.” You had whispered the moment you saw her, turning over to look at your husband. You both knew that there was no other name in this world that she could have.

When Bucky reached your hospital room, he had walked in to see his little girl fast asleep in your arms. He noticed that your eyes were heavy and he frowned, walking into the room to sit down at the edge of your bed. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, doll.”

“You look exhausted, James.”

“That is something to get used to.” He told you as he leaned over to gently kiss your forehead, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned his back against the pillow. “Those were the longest four hours of my life.”

“You should probably talk to Steve about going on that paternity leave. I don’t like that he’s making you work during a time like this.” You joked, your voice so quiet as to not wake her up. But she really was a heavy sleeper, like you, though you could not figure out how she manages to notice when you set her in the cot. Two days old and your little Portia had already gotten the intelligence of her namesake. “What a hypocrite.”

“Sorry, I had to leave like that. I’ve known the patient since I was a resident and I couldn’t not... be there, you know?” He told you as he bit down on his lip. He hated to have left you alone with your new daughter like that, even if it was for a few hours.

“Why are you apologizing, James?” You asked him as you shook your head. “You know I would have done the same thing, even though I... I can’t even stand up without feeling sore between my legs, let alone stand in the OR for hours on end.”

“If you had pulled something like this, I wouldn’t have let you go.” Bucky chuckled softly and looked down at Portia, his free hand gently rubbing against her head. He was extremely cautious, not wanting to hurt her even the slightest. He could not believe how the two of you had managed to create such a beautiful thing. “How is she?”

“She... hates sleeping in the cot and she cries unless I’m holding her. I’m pretty sure likes being watched when she’s asleep and Sam was insistent that she gets that from me.” You replied as you let out a yawn. “But she’s a heavy sleeper otherwise. I think she just... knows the difference between me and the cot already. It’s crazy.”

He noticed how tired you looked and nodded. “Let me hold her, doll. Rest your arms a little. You look like you need some sleep and... I just chugged an entire cup of coffee. I’ve got her.”

You nodded, smiling fondly at your husband, the father of your child, the love of your life. A wise man had once told you that we were all capable of building better lives for ourselves than what life had to offer us. You believed it now. Your life really was better.

Taking Portia from you, Bucky gently rested her against his chest while his free hand still held onto yours.

As you dozed off next against his shoulder, he looked down at his newborn daughter with a smile. “Hey, baby girl.”

Portia, who had woken up from the movement, did not make a sound as she starred up at her father. The way her wide eyes were glued at him, it was as though she had recognized him too. She felt safe in his arms as much as she felt safe in yours.

“I promise you, Portia. You might not remember this when you’re older but... I want you to know that I’ll make sure that your childhood is a thousand times better than your mother’s. I’ll make sure that you know how much you’re loved until the day I die. I love you and your mother so much and I’ll always do right by you both.” He told her softly as he nodded, leaning down to gently press his lips against her tiny forehead. “You are loved so much, baby girl. You’re loved so much by your old man.”

#aj writes #better #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #doctor!tony #better!bucky #dad!bucky

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Lullabies

A bad mission leaves you unable to sleep. Luckily, you’re not the only one awake in the compound.

“Alright, I’m out!” You said loudly, standing up from the couch. The others in the room, Nat, Clint, and Wanda, were all arguing over an episode of Forensic Files. They all acknowledged you as you stood up. Tonight was their intervention, after all. It was the first time you’d been social since the big mission incident happened.

“Promise me you’ll sleep tonight!” Nat called out. You walked into the kitchen, not expecting to see Steve filling up his gigantic water bottle. He was a friend, a good one, but you hadn’t spoken much since it happened. You just felt like you let him down, and it was the last thing you wanted to do.

You’d been on your own until Tony, your dad’s best friend from childhood, took you in, gave you a serum when your heart threatened to be the cause of your death, and gave you a kickass suit to go with it. And then you were almost an Avenger, but not quite. You were grateful, really – it gave you some of the best friends you’d ever had. Nat was like a mom to you, and Tony was the closest thing you had to a father. You’d been there for six months until the dreaded mission last week.

You’d been the only survivor out of your team of five. You’d been tortured, in every way possible. You were so shaken up that you barely slept for the past week. The bruises weren’t fading. Neither were the memories, and it left you completely unable to sleep, much less do anything but lay in bed and feel guilty for surviving. Nat had finally drawn you out of your room with Chinese food and everyone else had joined until you were all arguing over the ICBY murders.

“Good night, Y/n,” Steve said with a little smile. His smiles were always warm. He was sweet – you considered him a friend, even though most of your conversations were light-hearted.

“Good night, Steve,” you replied with a smile. You walked into your room and got in bed. And you tried to sleep. This time, for whatever reason, it came. Maybe it was because you could hear everyone else in the living room and it was comforting. It helped you to understand that you weren’t alone anymore.

Sleep paralysis had been taking over every time you closed your eyes, and this time was no exception. Tonight it was the bad guy, staring down at you with a gun in one hand and gauntlet in the other. And you tried to scream for anyone who was awake still, it was so real and you couldn’t move your body, but nobody came. Maybe it was because it was late. Maybe it was because you weren’t really screaming, but you couldn’t take it. You woke up gasping, your throat sore, tears streaming down your face. It felt like you were being strangled again. You turned your body toward the air conditioner to get a clear breath.

“Shit,” you murmured. It was 2:26 AM. You felt like you were suffocating, and without even taking your phone, you slipped out of your room and let it lock behind you. The hallway was dark, the only lights coming from the floor-to ceiling windowed view of the city, and it was calming. It was cool, too, Tony always kept the building freezing cold. One of the back lights in the kitchen was on, and you sighed. There was only one thing that could make you feel better. When you were a kid your mother always made chocolate chip cookies when you were upset. She’d hand them over to you, warm and gooey, and you would eat as many as you could until it knocked you out.

So you got a pan out as quietly as you could and searched in the fridge until you found your secret stash of cookies. You resisted to eat the dough and set them on the pan, heating the oven and setting them in. You always took them out before they were done anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“FRIDAY, play the Office in the living room and set a timer for cookies.” The corner of the room glowed in response.

“Hey!” A familiar New York accent knocked you out of your daze as you heard the theme song start playing. It was Steve. You quickly ran in.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “I had no idea anyone was in here, I thought everyone was asleep.” He was half asleep, still, but he smiled.

“I did too,” he answered dryly.

“No, I’m sorry. What were you watching?” You took a seat on the couch, all the way across from Steve.

“Honestly? 60 Minutes.” You let out a laugh.

“Of course you would, old man.”

“I’m not that old.”

“You’re a hundred years old.”

“I’m not!” He tried to say. But he sighed. “What are we watching?”

“The Office. Everyone in my generation thinks it’s comedic gold. I do, too. It makes me feel better when sleep paralysis wakes me up.” You were freezing. You wish you had taken a blanket with you, or grabbed the one that was sitting by Steve. Steve could see that you were cold, too. He could see the chill bumps on your skin in the dark. He could see the dried tears on your face and decided he should probably have a little more conversation with you before bringing that up.

“So, uh, what’s it about?”

“An office.” Steve chuckled at how dumb he was.

“Yeah, I should’ve realized that.”

“It’s about a paper company. You might hate it. It’s weird humor, honestly.”

“Yeah, well, I might like it too.” He grinned. Whenever he did that, you couldn’t help but do the same. It was contagious. His optimism, even after everything, and his faith in the world made you want to be more like him. And he and Bucky were the only ones who could possibly know what you went through with the serum. Not to mention he was gorgeous. He had the perfect hair, perfect teeth. He was twice your size and for some reason you wanted him to crush you. He was a giant teddy bear. He was a sweetheart, but he always said what was on his mind. He wouldn’t lie to you. He had no reason to.

“Y/n,” FRIDAY caught your attention, “your cookies are almost done.” You jumped a little bit. Steve must have noticed how jumpy you were, and it made him a little upset. Why didn’t you feel safe?

“Cookies?” He asked. You got up – the oven had an auto shut-off for when they were done, and by the time you got over there you just grabbed a random dish towel to take them out of the oven with. You slid them onto a paper plate, took paper towels as napkins, and brought them back to the living room.

“Did you wake up in the middle of the night to make cookies?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He sat up slightly, motioning for you to sit beside him. You were a little nervous, just because he was him, even though you’d done it in countless meetings or when everyone was piled into the room. But this was different. You were alone.

“No,” you admitted. “My mom used to make them whenever I woke up in the middle of the night. I used to have really bad nightmares.”

“Did, or still do?” It slipped out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “Sorry.” You took a cookie from the plate and started eating. They were the most comfort you had in a long time. Or maybe it was Steve, or a mix of both.

“Still do. I just can’t go back to sleep after,” you answered. “You can have one.” He smiled and took one from the top of the plate.

“I can’t either. Back before I went into the ice they never really had a word for how you felt when you’d come back from war or a car accident or anything you felt like you shouldn’t survive. Now they do, and it’s almost as bad as not having a word at all.”

“I’m used to it now. It just makes me mad that it affected me this much.”

“Yeah, it does me too. But you know, kid, my door’s always open. You can always come talk to me. I get it.”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” You eyed the blanket. Even with the warm cookies you were eating, you still felt cold. “Can you hand me the blanket?”

“Yeah, of course.” He passed you the fluffy blue blanket that you were pretty sure Clint had brought in and never taken back. You wrapped it over yourself, leaning back on the couch. “I don’t know what you went through back there, but…”

“I haven’t even told Tony. The only people that know are me and Fury and Nat.” Steve nodded, looking down.

“Why not?”

“Because that makes it feel real.” Thinking about that night just made your skin crawl and it made you almost start crying. “Everyone wants to know and if I tell them then they’ll just feel sorry for me. I set myself up for that, for all of this. I told them I could handle it, but…”

“You’re handling it,” he interrupted. “Trust me. TV and cookies is way better than the way I used to handle things.” You sighed.

“I’m sorry I’m dumping on you. And I changed your TV. You probably came out here to be alone and I just…”

“Shut up, Y/n. I like spending time with you. And I like that you brought me cookies when you didn’t have to share them. I’m glad I’m not the only one awake in the middle of the night.” You felt a little better. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wasn’t like that. What you wanted, more than anything, was just to curl up next to him. You needed human contact and suddenly you needed him. You realized that you didn’t feel safe because of the cookies or the TV. You felt safe because Steve was there.

“Do you come out here every night?” You asked, trying to change the subject a little.

“Pretty much. Sometimes I’ll go to the gym. But sitting here feels much better than punching things. Sitting with you, I should say.” He gave you a small smile, hoping that it would be returned.

“You’re lying.”

“No. I’m not. Can I tell you somethin’?” You nodded. “When they said there was only one survivor, I was hoping it was you. Not that I wanted everyone to die, I just… I couldn’t take seeing you, dead, because you don’t deserve that. And I didn’t want to not get the chance to tell you how I feel about you. Even if it is kinda stupid.”

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t see very much in the darkness of the room, since the credits were playing, but you could see a faint look of something in his eyes that reminded you of home.

“I mean I care about you. More than I should. It’s dangerous, I know that. It can get you killed, I know that. I don’t expect anything in return, especially not from you, but… I really like you. You’re smart and funny and you’re so good at what you do, even when it doesn’t look like it.”

You sat up, throwing the blanket aside, and walked over to him. You were so close to him that you could smell his breath. Cookies. You wrapped your arms around him, nearly bursting into tears because of the sheer amount of time you’d gone without anyone saying they cared about you. You were happy because somebody cared about you this much.

“I like you too,” you said. He hugged you tightly, so tightly that you thought you might burst even though you had the same amount of strength as he did. He rubbed your back up and down for a minute, sighing against you, and ran a hand through your hair.

“I’m not worth cryin’ over, doll,” he pointed out.

“I’m a crybaby.” He laughed softly. It was as warm and comforting and safe as the chocolate chip cookies you’d made. You finally let him go, even though it was only to cuddle up against him. You offered some of the blanket to him and he took it, leaning down. He eventually moved until you were right beside him, holding you so you wouldn’t fall off the couch.

“So what do you say we get some coffee tomorrow morning?” He asked.

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” You must have fallen asleep with him, because you woke up the next morning in the same place, muscles sore, and the blanket had been kicked off of you. He woke up at the same time and just smiled down at you.

“I should probably go take a shower. If you still want coffee, that is,” you said.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.” You pulled yourself away from him, standing up, and sighed. “I’ll put the cookies up, don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” you responded. He smiled at you and started cleaning up the couch area. You walked into the hallway, about to head to your room, but lo and behold, Wanda was standing there with a grin on her face. “What?”

“You spent the night with Steve. Didn’t you?” She asked.

“Not like that. We just both fell asleep. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get ready for our date.”

“You’re dating?”

“Shh, not yet, just… We talked most of the night.” She smiled.

“He’ll be good for you.” You scoffed and typed the code into the pad to get into your room. Once you did a fingerprint scan, the door flew open. You certainly hoped he would be good for you, because last night was the first time you’d slept in what felt like forever. He was a better lullaby than the chocolate chip cookies, that was for sure.

A/N: I hope you like this! I loved writing it.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 4 years

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Meanwhile Back At Mama’s

Fandom: The Outsiders

Pairing: Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Characters: Darry Curtis, Reader, Sodapop Curtis, Ponyboy Curtis, Mama & Papa Curtis, Dally Winston, Johnny Cade, Steve Randle, Two-Bit Matthews,

Word Count: 1206 // Rating: Teen

Summary: Baby tell me what you think about this

Tags/ Warnings: Established Relationship, Heartache, Dead Parents, Canon Character Death, Dreams, Lost Dreams, New Relationships, Wishing, Parenting, Song Fic [x]

Notes: I’m doing 12 days of Songfic’s for Halloween. Not halloween related just a challenge to write everyday [updated 9/22]

12 Days of Songfic Spooktober (Oct 19th - Oct 31st)

Runnin round in this new truck Bank lets me borrow from month to month I’m runnin out of credit, find a little Cash on the radio Standing still they’re blowing past, numbers on cars goin NASCAR fast What I wouldn’t give for a slow down, don’t ya know? Cause where I come from, only the horses run When the day is done, we take it easy

Darry Curtis used to hate living at home. Growing up he had been the eldest and therefore the tester child for all their parent’s rules and regulations that seemed to melt away when his younger siblings came along. He was expected to be the best in school, do the most to help out at home and still keep his job at the gas station to help keep the family afloat. He was allowed to date though he hated bringing girls back home as he had to share a room with his two younger brothers which gave him no privacy.

Though he loved his brothers and his parents he couldn’t wait to escape. He’d worked hard for four years to keep his grades up and maintain his football career to earn him a scholarship. It wasn’t an ivy league college or anything but it was still respectable. He couldn’t wait to move out. His job at the gas station provided enough income that he could give some money to his folks and have some stashed away for moving into his dorm.

Meanwhile back at Mama’s The porch light’s on, come on in if you wanna Supper’s on the stove and beer’s in the fridge Red sun sinkin’ out low on the ridge Games on the tube and Daddy smokes cigarettes Whiskey keeps his whistle wet Funny the things you thought you’d never miss In a world gone crazy as this

Then it happened. His parents went out one night and never came home. They were killed in a car accident by a drunk driver sending the boys into a tailspin. Overnight Darry found himself stuck with a dilemma, leave his family and go to college which would mean the boys became wards of the state or quit his dreams and keep his family together. He would like to say it was a hard decision but it wasn’t really. He’d lost his parents and he loved his brothers too much to leave them. So with a heavy heart, he took over everything.

For the first few months, they survived on some of their parent’s savings whilst Darry ran around to see to odds and ends that he hadn’t fathomed would be a problem. Getting a lawyer to oversee the transference of the house to be legally his was more of a hassle than he had anticipated. After that, he had to search around town for a job. Though his job at the gas station was good he couldn’t get any more hours and his parent’s savings wouldn’t last forever so he was forced to leave and get a job as a roofer. Though he could bring in enough money it meant he was home less. This meant that life became work and sleep and his eye was off the ball ‘parenting’ wise. Sodapop dropped out of school and took up his old gas station job against his wishes.

He struggled. He was trying to keep Ponyboy on the straight and narrow whilst pinning down a job and corralling Sodapop into some sort of line. This was also a challenge because with Sodapop came a raft of waifs and strays who seemed to adopt their house as their own. Even with fewer people living there it was still jammed packed every day meaning that the only solace Darry got usually was in his own room, formally that of his parents. And bringing girls back was also a no-go. He didn’t want to promote a promiscuous lifestyle to the boys but he also didn’t want girls to think he was trying to make a new family.

Well I found a girl and we don’t fit in here Talk about how hard it is to breathe here Even with the windows down can’t catch a southern breeze here One of these days gonna pack it up and leave here

Then along came Y/N. She was a whirlwind who came into his life without warning. She was a cousin of Dally’s in town for the summer. She was a year or two younger than him but she seemed to be the maturest of the bunch and took to him like a duck to water. Whilst the boys played games in the living room she seemed to favour hanging out in the dining area/kitchen with him. She started coming over at night. Then earlier to have dinner. Then she ended up cooking dinner for the whole troop much to Darry’s delight as he hated having to cook each night. She had dropped out of school, not having much interest in it, and had been sent to stay with her aunt who was trying to convince her to go to college. Whilst in town she got a job as a waitress and when Darry had a day off the two of them would head into town to a bar or to a movie giving them both a rest from the boys. Over the course of the summer they had come to realise how much they meant to one another and when the time was approaching for her to head home Darry knew he couldn’t let her go. Without thinking he blurted out at dinner one night how she could stay with them until she found a place in town if she didn’t want to go home.

Oh I miss yeah a little dirt on the road, I miss corn growing in a row I miss being somebody everybody knows, there everybody knows everybody I miss those small-town routes, walkin around in muddy boots The sound of rain on an old tin roof It’s time we head on back

She never left. The two fell into a comfortable relationship which turned intimate just after that Christmas and Darry felt a little more comfortable with his decision not to go into the big wide world. They still had the occasional itch. When Sodapop moved out and Ponyboy went to college Darry became wistful for the things he could have done if tragedy hadn’t struck him so young. But then he’d look at Y/N. Sitting in the cab of his truck singing to the radio or sitting on the front porch drinking sweet tea and he’d rethink it.

They were happy. Though their routines were going to work, having dinner and sleeping they didn’t mind. It was mundane but it was enough.

Cause meanwhile back at Mama’s The for-sale signs goin up and I’m gonna Dump this truck and the little I got On a loan to own and a three-acre lot Put supper on the stove and beer in the fridge Goin’ for broke and we’re gonna be rich Watch the sun setting on the ridge

Baby tell me what you think about this Me and you back at Mama’s Yeah me and you back at Mama’s

#My writing #darry curtis #the outsiders #the outsiders fic #darry curtis fic #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #12 days of spooktober #spooktober #meanwhile back at mamas

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

Us and Andie Ch. 1

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Pairing: Bucky x singleparent!Reader

Word Count: 3167 words (oops??)

Warnings: Um…none?? This is looking to be more of a slow burn fic, but I mean, those are the best, right?

This IS in response to @buckyssoul’s writing challenge! But the dialogue hasn’t been used yet. XD

Masterlist

The constant rumble of the subway running its course was oddly comforting to Bucky Barnes. There was once a time in his life where he loathed it. It simply drove him crazy dealing with the people. He could never shake the tension and fear that came with the crowds. And more often than not, he caught them staring, recognizing him. Did they think he’d just randomly turn into the Winter Soldier and start killing people?

But at this time of night it was different.

Sure, there were people, but they ignored everything around them. They were more concerned with getting to their graveyard shift or maybe sleeping a few minutes between jobs. What their stories were, he didn’t care. So here he was, nearing midnight, and finally heading back to Brooklyn.

The subway screeched to a halt as something incomprehensible came over the speakers. He didn’t bother paying attention. He knew his route. He still had two more stops. However, it didn’t stop him from noticing who was getting off and on. Particularly – one stood out to him. Someone new. Their hoodie was pulled up, hiding most of their face and over that was a cargo jacket. Both looked too big.

It’s not your problem.

He leaned back, listening to the person’s footsteps walk closer to his side of the car. Other than the man sleeping a couple seats away, this half was empty. Whoever it was, they were avoiding people. At least that was what he thought until they sat down. Their scrawny legs were tucked into their chest, too-long jeans revealing worn sneakers underneath. His steely gaze shifted to the face still trying to hide itself. It was a kid. Judging by their size and the clothes, no more than eleven. Probably a girl.

What was a kid doing on a subway alone?

It’s not your problem.

That reminder echoed in his head once again. He crossed his arms and looked away. Avenger or not, that little voice in the back of his head was right. It wasn’t his problem to handle right now. Surely the kid had a parent. Or guardian. Or someone.

And yet, he knew she was alone.

Another stop came by. People came off. No one came on. The girl was still there.

He leaned forward, his heart twisting as he wondered how alone this child was. Bucky shifted his arms, propping them on his knees. The movement caught her attention. She looked up. And Bucky’s heart broke. Tears stained her cheeks and her nose was clearly red. She wiped it on her sleeve, eyes never leaving his. Her knees were pulled tight against her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.

No more than eleven, he was certain. But in that moment, she looked so much younger.

“You okay?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

She nodded.

“You’re lying.” He winced at how his voice probably sounded to her. That wasn’t what he had intended.

Her eyes grew and he sighed, running his gloved hand over his jaw. Glancing around the rest of the car, he was relieved that no one else was paying attention to her. She didn’t need that right now. Especially not now. Looking back at her, he asked, “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to lie?”

She nodded again. At least this time he knew she was telling the truth.

Silence fell between them as they watched one another, practically sizing each other up. Bucky knew it wasn’t his place to do anything. In all actuality, he should find a police officer. Or maybe call Steve. Steve was better at this sort of thing than he was.

Instead of doing just that, he asked, “Where are your parents?”

She tensed.

He cringed. Maybe could have worded that less creepily. “Kid, it’s late. I just want to make sure you get home safe.” Still, she said nothing. “Please, let me help?” The more he talked, the less gruff he sounded. The more human he sounded. Her shoulders were starting to relax and immediately he wondered if anyone had thought to teach this kid about “stranger danger”.

She looked down again, resting her chin on her knees. One step forward, two steps back.

“Kid.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Well, at least you’re talking now.” He watched her, unable to hide a smile. She was slowly trusting him. “So…where are your parents?”

“Dad’s with his family. Mom’s at work.”

He frowned. Divorce was still something he wasn’t all that familiar with. The Avengers weren’t exactly dating or married except for Clint. Tony’s off and on again relationship with Pepper was the most interaction he had with a “healthy” relationship. And some days he wasn’t sure that it qualified as one. “Which parent are you trying to get to?”

She sniffled and he noticed more tears threatening to fall. “Mom…”

“Does she know?”

“I – I left…I left my phone with them.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and Bucky decided it was time to join her side. It was quick. Shifting from one side of the car to the other, he took a seat next to her. She relaxed more. Now that Bucky was between her and the rest of the car, she clearly felt safer.

“So she doesn’t.”

She shook her head and he reached up, tugging her hoodie back. Brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, messy and knotted. She looked up at him, strands falling in her face.

“What’s your name?”

“Andie.”

It was either a fake name, which he would be impressed by, or a nickname, he was sure. But then again, he went by a nickname himself, so who was he to judge?

“You’re Bucky.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised that she would recognize him, but relieved that she at least wasn’t opening up to a complete stranger. She knew he was “safe” and yet she was so young. How could she possibly –

“I’m a mutant. My mom…” She sniffled again, slowly but surely calming down. “My mom wanted to make sure I knew about good role models.”

Good role models? Was her mother an idiot? To think that he could be considered a good role model for a kid? With everything that he had done? No wonder the kid was such a mess. He turned away from her, staring at his interwoven hands. Glove and skin. Always glove and skin.

“Your mom? Is she – “

Andie shook her head. “No. She’s human.”

The subway came to a stop again. It was his. He was supposed to go. Looking from the door to her again, he rang his hands. Nerves. He hated them. Normally everything made him calm, but right now he couldn’t stop the nerves that ate at his gut. “Let me get you to her. Deal?”

She looked surprised but said nothing. Only nodding. There was trust in her eyes. She believed in him and believed that he would look out for her. And that warmed his heart. “She works at the hospital on Kings Highway.”

He knew that area. It wasn’t exactly in the safest part of Brooklyn and was definitely a poorer community. Knowing that both worried and impressed him regarding this kid. She was fearless. It reminded him of a blonde idiot always picking fights, never backing down. Maybe she was a bit stupid too, but she’d grow out of that.

“She’s a nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell again. It seemed neither of them were sure what they could say. Andie wanted to ask about his arm. Bucky wanted to ask why she ran. She mentioned her father having a family. Was that why? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He felt like it wasn’t his place. So he leaned back and glanced at the stops coming up. They had four more before she would have gotten off. Four stops on a creepy train just to get to her mother.

Must be a hell of a woman to raise a kid so strong.

His head rest against the window and he tensed when he felt something rest on him. He looked down. Andie’s head was propped on his metal arm and she was almost immediately asleep. She hadn’t flinched or anything. Instead, the kid found comfort in something that was supposed to be a weapon. Taking a slow breath, he forced himself to relax. She cuddled into his arm and he could tell she was absolutely exhausted. Of course, she was. No kid her age should be out this late.

Another forty minutes passed before they reached her stop. He nudged her awake and she stifled a yawn. “Come on, Andie, get up.”

Another yawn slipped out of her as she blinked slowly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “I fell asleep?”

“Mhm.” He picked her up, carrying her off the subway as she properly woke up. When he felt she could walk without running into anything, he set her down again. He took off his baseball cap, placing it on her head and earning a sleepy grin from her. He didn’t understand what it was about that smile that made him feel all warm and fuzzy, but in that moment…Bucky just wanted to protect her from everything.

“Alright, Andie, lead the way.”

Andie was good about sticking close to his side and honestly, it was a relief. The last thing he needed or wanted to worry about was losing the kid on accident. Somehow this wasn’t supposed to be his problem and yet, here he was.

Steve would say he was asking for it.

His arm flexed when he felt her take his hand. That stupid gloved hand. How could she not be afraid? She knew who he was.

“Why?”

Andie looked up at him before glancing at her much smaller hand holding onto his. “Maybe she won’t ground me if I’m clearly being safe and out this late with an Avenger.”

Bucky laughed. As much as he hated to admit it, it sounded like solid reasoning from a kid. He looked ahead. The hospital was just across the street. She tugged him in that direction, not having to worry about cars this late at night. What a strange little thing she was.

The bright fluorescents of the hospital were a stark contrast to the night sky and dim streetlights. It made him squint.

“Andie?”

“Hey, Nurse Jones!”

Bucky looked up, eyes finally adjusting and fixating on the woman that had spoken. Nurse Jones – so not her mother. She watched him, the dark circles under her eyes only making her grey eyes more prominent. She was young. He would have guessed she got out of nursing school recently. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Closing the file in her hand, she walked up to them, her eyes never straying from Bucky. It was interesting – a relief that she wasn’t ogling him, but in fact concerned for Andie’s wellbeing.

“Uh…Andie,” she started, crouching in front of her. “What are you doing here? And this late?”

“I…Well…”

“It’s my fault.”

Nurse Jones and Andie looked up simultaneously. Clearly neither had expected him to say that. In truth, neither had he. “Yours? You’re not Andie’s babysitter.”

Babysitter? Wasn’t she supposed to be with her dad? “No, but – “

“But he’s an Avenger.” Andie grinned when Nurse Jones’s cheeks turned pink. She recognized him then. “So I’m safe.”

She sighed, rubbing the bridge between her brows. Bucky didn’t bother to hide his smirk. It was obvious that this wasn’t the first time Andie had found a loophole in a conversation. So, Nurse Jones stood up and looked at Bucky. Before she had a chance to say anything or take Andie to her mother, there was a call from the desk. She immediately turned and went to answer the phone, reaching over rather awkwardly. “Okay, I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” she told whoever was on the other line. Hanging up, she looked back at Bucky. She glanced from him to Andie and back again, at a complete loss. “Do you mind going with her?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, brow furrowing. He thought he was just dropping the kid off and problem solved. The idea of traveling further into the hospital made him tense. Bucky didn’t like hospitals. He sure as hell didn’t trust doctors. Not after Zola. Not after…after everything. But clearly this woman looked stressed. She didn’t seem to be the type to ask for a favor from a stranger. Especially not if she could help it.

“Going with her where?”

–

Labor and Delivery.

That was where.

Surrounded by rooms filled with pregnant, hormonal women. Rooms filled with families having happy lives. Lives he couldn’t have.

You should’ve kept your mouth shut on that damn subway.

“Okay, Andie, where’s your – “

“Lauren Andromeda Y/L/N!”

“Uh oh.”

“Mom…” Bucky finished, looking up as a whirlwind of light blue scrubs came up to them. A woman swept her up, pulling Andie’s hand out of Bucky’s. She squeezed her tight and it was then that Bucky put the pieces together.

This must be her mom.

Wait, Lauren Andromeda?

Bucky raised an eyebrow as Andie peeked at him over her shoulder. She was grinning and the sight brought back that weird feeling from earlier. He looked away, clenching his jaw as he tried to stuff it aside. Instead of lingering on it, he watched out of his peripheral as she was carried to the desk the rest of the nurses were at. While they were staring at him, Andie’s mom seemed completely focused on whether her daughter was okay or not.

“Ciara called me and told me you were on your way up. What were you doing – I thought May would’ve put you to bed hours ago.” She noticed the sheepish look in her daughter’s eyes and braced her hands on either side of her, tapping her foot. “You snuck out. You went to see him.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I just…I wanted to…”

Andie trailed off and immediately what was once aggravation and worry slipped into nothing more than a mother’s concern. She sighed as she gathered her into her arms, squeezing her tight. “I know, baby girl, I know.”

One of the nurses at their station cleared her throat, forcing her to look up. She raised an eyebrow, mouthing ‘what’ to her coworker. An impish grin appeared on her face as she pointed to just behind. “I think you owe someone a thank you.”

Looking back, a dark red blush appeared on cheeks and ears as Andie’s mother finally released her. “I – I know you.”

Bucky dipped his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“He’s Bucky, Mom.”

“I know that,” she hissed, looking back at Andie. She eyed the baseball cap on her head – the one clearly too big for her. She turned back to Bucky. “You brought her here?”

Bucky was still silent, not entirely sure what to say. While he was used to at least saying a couple sentences, he found himself at a complete loss. This was extremely new to him. And this woman was a whirlwind. She was chaotic at best. Unlike Natasha who carried herself with the utmost care and Wanda who was confident, but calm – she was something else. Her hair was pulled up and out of her face. There was no sign of makeup anywhere except mascara that he guessed was a couple days old. The dark circles under her eyes were similar to Nurse Jones’s and there was no sign of jewelry anywhere on her except for a single necklace around her neck.

A locket.

She was simple and yet so bright, so chaotic. He wondered if it was because of her daughter’s safety or if that was just her.

“Say something.”

Bucky shot a pointed look at Andie, making a note in the back of his mind to ask about her name at some point in the future. Instead of saying something, he simply nodded.

“Thank you.” She looked so honest and real. It was unfamiliar to him. “Being an Avenger must be exhausting. Taking the time to do that for my daughter…it means a lot.”

“I just – “ He cleared his throat, his flesh hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe.”

She smiled before looking at Andie. “I’ll call May and get your coloring books. Find a chair.” Pulling Andie off the counter, she set her down and glanced at the coworker that had teased her earlier. “Cover for me?”

“You know it, girl.”

Laughing, she pulled her phone off the charger and walked away. Bucky’s eyes watched, unable to tear themselves away. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure not only Andie was okay, but that her mother was. Taking a couple steps back, he shook his head. Maybe that was just the Avenger part of him talking.

“Hey.”

Bucky looked down, raising an eyebrow when he saw it was Andie less than a foot away from him. She was quick on her feet. He’d give her that. Curling a finger in a come-hither motion, she was unable to stop smiling when Bucky crouched in front of her.

“Yes?”

She took the borrowed hat off, placing it on his head. Leaning forward, Andie told him, “Her name’s Y/N.”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the little matchmaker in front of him. That was probably normal for a kid from divorced parents, right? Taking the hat back off his head, he adjusted the strap on the back. He turned it around and placed it back on her head, making sure it fit. Instead of commenting on the little Cupid Game Andie was so obviously playing, he said, “Keep it. Looks better on you.”

Andie tilted her head up, revealing wide, cheery eyes that weren’t shining quite so bright the first time they had met. It seemed she was much better now. She didn’t need him anymore. “Thanks, Mr. Barnes.”

“Call me Bucky.”

She giggled and nodded, the hat slipping ever so slightly. “Bye, Bucky.”

He stood up. “Bye, Andie.”

Turning on his heel, he left the Labor and Delivery department. He knew damn well if anyone from his team found out about this, he’d be teased relentlessly. So, he made sure he would keep it to himself. No one needed to find out about Andie. Or Y/N.

Bucky paused when he thought about her. Y/N. “Y/N Y/L/N.” It sounded…almost familiar.

But that didn’t matter anymore. The night was over and if he had any chance of not being a total ass at the compound tomorrow, he needed to get at least a couple hours of sleep.

So that was the new goal.

Brooklyn. Then work. Then repeat.

No Andie. No Y/N.

Back to the routine of late, lonesome subway rides.

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x Female Reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

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Made to Suffer [one-shot]

Summary: In a world where you’re surrounded by death, you just want to feel something.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, graphic violence, death, SMUT EXPLICIT 18+, please don’t read if under 18!, major character death

Notes: Probably one of my favorite crossovers to ever write. The Walking Dead is my favorite show besides Game of Thrones and when Fatima (@revengingbarnes ) came up with a Marvel/TV crossover challenge, I had to enter! Congrats on the milestone and thanks for hosting such an awesome challenge!

Forewarning you all, this will be graphically violent. I’m a sick bitch who loves writing gorey scenes and, come on, it’s the zombie apocalypse. There’s nothing tame about it. It’s also long as hell. Enjoy and let me know what you think! x

P.S. - For those who don’t watch TWD, “walkers” are the zombies; they don’t use the term zombies in the show.

When Bucky, Steve, and Nat were sent into a Hydra base with the intent of extracting biological weapons, they hadn’t been counting on that weapon being rigged to the entire facility, set to be released into the air upon the decimation of the building itself.

The changes weren’t immediately known. When the bomb Bucky rigged had gone off, there were no strange colored clouds dissipating into the air, no inclinations that something sinister had occurred. So how could they have known?

Patient zero was a thirty-three-year old woman from Queens, who displayed symptoms of the flu, intensified by chronic vomiting and a fever that never dropped below a hundred and five degrees. Her temperature had continued to rise until her body merely burned out and succumbed. No one, least of all the doctors assigned to her case, expected her to reanimate and escape the morgue.

Even less expected was her attacking the morgue attendant and sinking her teeth into his jugular. It only snowballed from there; hospitals and care centers rapidly filled with the sick. The military was dispatched to contain them. Sanctuaries and refugee centers were erected in all major cities.

The Avengers were outnumbered. Bruce and Helen Cho worked tirelessly on a potential cure, experimenting and testing and recalibrating until both of them were overtaken by the sick—the dead—and Steve and Natasha were forced to put them down.

It had been discovered by accident, the way to kill them for good. Destroy the brain, destroy the monster.

Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe what he was seeing on the news as images and videos of burning houses and buildings flooded the screen. The news anchors couldn’t keep the terror out of their voices as they narrated what was happening behind them. He sat in the common room, eyes red-rimmed, glassy, and focused as his leg bounced anxiously. Bruce and Helen’s deaths hit everyone hard, especially Nat and Tony, and the two of them fell into a deep depression while at the same time working furiously to recreate some kind of serum that would reverse the effects of the illness.

It was a dead end.

Eventually, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Tony, and the others were forced to leave Avengers Tower. Not even Tony had enough resources to keep them fed through this. With everything they could carry on their backs—changes of clothes in Nat and Clint’s packs, the entire Avengers pantry in Bucky and Steve’s, and the notes on a serum in Tony’s—they left the city.

It was tough, those first months out on the road. Tony insisted heading south towards Georgia, where the CDC may have held answers. They never made it. The freeways and main roads were so congested with cars and the dead that they were forced to head west instead. They ran into trouble: other, less friendly groups, hordes of the dead, packs of dogs who’d forgotten how to be the family pet.

Tony was the first of their group to die. Tetanus, if you could believe it, after scaling a building in an attempt to get their bearings. His footing slipped as he climbed, and a sharp edge of the rusted ladder sliced the inside of his forearm wide open. Sam had stopped the bleeding, but none could have predicted the symptoms that followed.

They buried him in the trees somewhere in Illinois. Nat and Steve weren’t the same. The two of them became harder, colder, more ruthless. A dangerous duo that began taking unnecessary risks in order to keep them all safe.

It cost Sam his life. It gravely injured Clint, which only caused Nat to spiral further. With the loss of Sam, Steve was inconsolable and hard as steel, so far gone that Bucky saw no trace of his best friend anymore. He and Steve butted heads; Bucky questioned every choice Steve made as the unofficially appointed leader of their group. Nat took Steve’s side every time, often resorting to physical blows when Bucky stepped out of line. He’d forgotten how lethal she could be.

It’s what inevitably led him to leaving the group. He waited until nightfall, knowing neither Steve nor Nat would willingly let him leave. Steve wouldn’t be able to handle losing his oldest friend, but Bucky could hardly be pressed to care. Steve was no longer the boy he grew up with or the patriotic, self-righteous hero who fought for Bucky’s innocence all those years ago.

He had a feeling Nat’s super spy instincts knew when he snuck out of camp, one pack slung over his shoulder full of pilfered goods from their stores, but she either saw it coming or didn’t rightly care. He’d bet on the latter.

Survival took a toll on his body. He did his best to keep himself in peak physical form, using fallen trees as weights to bench press and jogging here and there, but he knew he was far smaller than he was. Still well-muscled and still gazelle-graceful, but thinner, paler, face sunken in with the lack of nutrition. He had trouble sleeping, nightmares flashing in his head. Only this time, they were images of his dead friends—Tony, succumbing to tetanus, unable to move a muscle; Sam, overcome and taken apart by the dead when one of Steve’s suicide runs went awry; Bruce and Helen, pale, milky-eyed, with snapping jaws and dead fingers reaching out.

He didn’t sleep much after those started, took to moving from place to place at night. He stayed in abandoned houses, raided cabinets and closets and garages for any food or weapons, slept in a storage unit once after picking the lock. His super-soldier senses aided him in avoided the dead; he could hear, smell, and see them before they saw him, giving him ample time to hide either in a building or up in a tree if he was in the wilderness.

It became routine, hide, eat, move. The loneliness didn’t bother him so much as the silence did. He didn’t have Sam’s stupid jokes or nicknames to annoy him, didn’t have Steve’s chastising voice in his ear, did have Nat giving him advice on how to combat the nightmares. Hell, he’d take Tony’s cold indifference to him over the silence. It gave him too much room to dwell, to think about anything other than survival.

Somewhere near the border of Missouri, he stopped in a gated neighborhood. His body was running on empty despite the racing of his mind. His stores were depleting, and he desperately needed to sleep. He’d risk the nightmares, just this once.

He chose a house with its door wide open. A knife in each hand, he crept through the doorway, icy eyes searching each room thoroughly for danger. Furniture, covered in layers of dust, lay tipped over in the living room. The kitchen was in a similar state of disarray, but his sharp eyes didn’t miss the disturbance of dust on the counter. The marble was stark white where something had brushed the dust away. Immediately Bucky was on high alert, ears straining for any noise.

There it was. The creak of a floorboard upstairs. Fingers tightening on his knives, he crept up the stairs on silent feet. He steadied his breathing, jaw clenched as he ascended. He rounded the corner of the stairs, gaze flitting between the three doors of the second floor. The first door bore a bedroom, a kid’s if the posters and toys was any indication (Bucky had to swallow down his unease). The second was a bathroom, revealing further evidence that someone was staying here.

He stalked to the final bedroom, poised like a predator hunting his prey. Bucky allowed just a sliver of the Soldier in, just enough to keep his focus. His body went rigid as the Soldier crept to the forefront of his mind, attention firmly on the task at hand. Shoulders straight, Bucky inched forwards, gently pushing open the door and hovering just inside the frame. His eyes swept the room, settling first on the unmade bed that looked recently slept in and continuing on to the closed closet door.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Bucky stepped forward until his nose nearly touched the door. He could pick up a heartbeat behind it, surprised to find it steady and strong. Not a dead one, then. Bucky inhaled, ready to throw the doors open, but he startled backwards as they flew open of their seemingly own accord. Before he could blink he took a boot to the chest, sending him backwards into the bed, where he collapsed and bounced upon the soft mattress.

As he sat up, he grunted as a body landed atop his chest, knees pinning his arms and a gun held to his forehead. Eyes wide with surprise, he took in the figure straddling him.

Your breathing was steady as you glared down at the man trapped beneath you. Your grip on the gun was firm, index finger hovering just over the trigger. The man’s icy eyes were wide but without any trace of fear. Instead, he looked mildly annoyed at having been bested.

“What do you want?” you growled, voice hoarse from disuse.

The man’s eyes flickered yours before they took in your gun. Jaw muscle twitching, he moved like lightning, knocking you off balance enough to wedge his hand between his head and the gun. His gloved palm pressed, disengaging the slide and rendering the gun useless. With a growl the man twisted his body, pinning you to the bed and knocking the gun out of your hands. It clattered to the floor, forgotten as you lay helpless beneath him.

Bucky held your wrists in his hands, barely having broken a sweat, and as he looked down at you, he caught a brief flash of fear behind your eyes. Coming back to himself, he loosened his grip on you just a little.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’ll let you up, but please promise me you won’t go for that gun and shoot me.”

You stayed silent, watching him closely as he released your wrists and straightened up off the bed. A small part of your brain felt saddened by the sudden loss of his weight on top of you, but you shut that down quickly. Now’s not the time.

You sat up as the man backed away, hands raised in front of him. Now that there was some distance between you, you took time to appraise him. Tall, muscular form, long-sleeved shirt that only just hid his physique. Glove on one hand, the left, long legs supported by thick thighs. Your eyes traveled up. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones that were slightly sunken in, a sharp, straight nose, deep circles under wintry blue eyes. Long, greasy dark hair hung limply in his face.

Well, he was certainly the most attractive visitor you’d entertained recently. Another glance at his face revealed his smirk, as if he could hear your thoughts, see where your mind had gone. It hadn’t helped that you’d subconsciously tugged your bottom lip invitingly between your teeth.

Bucky was no stranger to desire, though he had to admit it hadn’t been the first thing on his mind as of late. But now, as he stood before you under your scrutinizing gaze, he couldn’t deny the rush of heat as his blood warmed beneath his skin and his heartrate increased just slightly. His own eyes roved over your form, took in the shape of your body, the curves of your waist, hips, and legs clad in tight dark pants. You wore unlaced boots.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Your voice pulled him from the recesses of his mind, where images of you underneath him had him shifting his position as his pants grew tighter.

“Name’s Bucky. I was looking for somewhere to lay low for a bit, recharge.”

His voice was smooth like honey with a smokiness that made you shiver. The sound curled over you, warming and filling your body with want. His mouth quivered with a smile, detecting the rise in your heartbeat.

“I can find somewhere else, if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered, eyebrow raising a little. With the way your eyes were devouring him, the hitch in your breathing, he knew it wasn’t what you wanted, but he put it out there.

“N-No,” you stammered, clearing your throat as your voice was a raspy croak. “You can stay. I have some spare supplies.”

“What’s your name?” His voice made you pause in turning around to head downstairs. You told him quietly and he nodded, stepping forward to follow you.

You shared a few canned goods with him after warming them in the fireplace, the two of you dining on opposite sides of the room. Bucky’s eyes found you in the fire light, dancing across your form as you scraped the last of your Spaghettios out of the bottom of the can and set it aside.

“How long have you been alone?” he asked, almost hesitantly. Your eyes lifted to the flames, glossing over just a bit as you thought.

“Not long,” you eventually replied. Your sister was the last to die, only about three weeks ago now. He didn’t press further. “You?”

“Few months, I think. Gets hard to keep track of time.”

You hummed in agreement but froze as footsteps on your porch pulled your attention. Bucky was on high alert, back straight and shoulders rigid, eyes flying to the door. A muffled gurgle made you relax.

“Just a walker. It’ll go away,” you muttered, shoulders sagging against the chair. Bucky took a little longer to relax, wanting to make sure one wouldn’t turn into fifty.

When the walker wandered off, its interest pulled somewhere else, Bucky sat back with a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. It allowed you a moment to look him over again. He was a specimen, that’s for sure, even with his slightly-sunken face. Your body warmed again, flushing deliciously. You shifted on the floor, attempting to quell the sudden ache between your legs.

When he shifted and straightened again, you averted your eyes to the fire, trying and failing to hold back a yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ll keep watch.”

You thought about arguing, took in the darkness under his eyes, but his strong, insistent gaze tied up your tongue. You nodded, sighing as you stood and stretched. You bid him a quiet goodnight before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

You hadn’t been asleep long when the nightmares began. They were always the same: your family, falling victim to the dead one by one. Your father, taken by surprise on a supply run; your brother, shot by accident when your sister tried to save the two of you; your niece and nephew, far too young to experience something as agonizing as starvation; your mother, so overcome with grief that she walked herself into a group of walkers; and finally, your sister, killed by another group, hostile and barbaric.

Downstairs, Bucky dozed lightly, brain still very much awake. A quiet whimper jostled him awake before a louder shriek spurred him into action. He took the stairs two at a time, just as you let out another scream. He slammed into the bedroom door, nearly taking it off its hinges, and his eyes found your body on the bed, sheets twisted around your bared legs, sweating shining in the moonlight streaming through the window.

He said your name, winced when all he received was another painful whimper.

“Mom,” your voice cried out. “Please, no!”

No stranger to nightmares, Bucky walked to the bed and grasped your shoulders in his large hands, shaking you gently. He repeated your name.

“Hey, wake up, doll, wake up! It’s a dream!” he implored, jumping back when you awoke with a gasp. Your hands came up to grasp his wrists, your brow furrowing when the gloved one didn’t give under your grip.

“Bucky?” you asked breathlessly, and, damn it, if that wasn’t the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. His body reacted, stomach clenching, cock twitching in his pants. He swallowed down the desire welling up within him and licked his dry lips.

“I’m here. Are you all right?” he whispered, gloved hand reaching up towards your face before he rethought it and pulled it back.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, damp with sweat and tears. Wordlessly, you reached out for him, fingers curling around his forearms to pull him down closer. Noses brushing, he could feel your breaths on his lips, his muscles straining with restraint.

“I need you,” you pleaded, the words hovering between you before you could rethink it. You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes even as his pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the icy blueness of his irises. “Please, just let me feel something.”

Your lips swallowed his gasp as you surged upwards off the bed and you gave him no time to pull away. Your mouth opened under his, tongue gliding along the seam of his mouth. His brows furrowed in momentary confusion until your tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him. His moan was muffled by you and he let himself fall forward onto the bed, propped on his elbows.

His mouth was pliant against yours, filling you with a warmth you haven’t felt in....years. Curling your fingers into his shirt, you tugged him down, causing him to nearly lose his balance as his feet slipped along the floor. He adjusted, lifting a knee onto the plush mattress, and settled above you.

His hands lit a fire under your skin wherever he touched, your waist, your hips, your breasts. When he gently squeezed the soft mounds, you mewled into his mouth, back bowing to arch into his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut when your hands splayed against his chest before diving low to the hem of his shirt. Stomach clenching as your nails tickled him, his mouth dropped open and he sighed.

His head felt fuzzy yet awakened as you pressed yourself against him, lifted the shirt from his torso and bodily rolled him over. Your lips carved a path down his scruffy jaw, to his neck, where your teeth nipped at his pulse point and his cock twitched inside his jeans. He felt your smirk against his skin as you continued to map out his body, hands and lips and tongue combining to nearly make him combust.

It had been so long since he’d been touched, and with the way your hands and mouth were working him over, he was momentarily worried this would be over far sooner than he wanted it to be. Your deft fingers tugged his belt buckle free, slid the zipper on his jeans down. He lifted his hips, blushed crimson at your smirk to find him bare beneath the denim.

You nipped at his inner thighs, sending pleasant shivers right up his spine. He was harder than marble, his cockhead purple and leaking and begging for your touch. Yet you continued to dance around it, pressing kisses to his hip bones, dipping your tongue along his Adonis belt, driving him mad with want. He gasped, head thrown back against your pillow when you suckled at one of his balls, the wet warmth of your mouth nearly his undoing.

“D-Doll,” he whimpered, his flesh hand drifting down to tangle in your hair. “Please. Please touch me.”

Your eyes flickered up to him, pupils wide and wanting and full of mischief. Minx. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Bucky would swear he died and went to heaven when you finally, finally put your mouth on him. Eased down his length inch by slow, agonizing inch, and it took all of his super-soldier strength not to thrust upwards and bury himself down your throat. His mouth dropped open, a deep groan wrenching from his throat when he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed around him.

Sweat beaded across his forehead, bottom lip pinched painfully in his teeth as he rocked his hips to the rhythm of your mouth. Fire gathered in his belly, electricity zipping up his spine, and he strangled out a protest, fingers tightening in your hair.

You pulled off him with a wet pop that had the muscles in his thighs clenching. Climbed up his body to settle yourself on his lap. Fire radiated from your core, and he could feel your wetness, itched to bury himself to the hilt. But he took his time stripping you of the sleeping clothes you wore, admired each reveal of bare skin.

Finally, naked on top of him, your wetness allowing him to glide along your folds. Nails carving crescents into his chest as he arched his hips and slid seamlessly inside you. Head thrown back as your body found a rhythm. Bucky danced his hands along your sides, watching as goose flesh rose in the wake of his metal one. When a silver fingertip circled a nipple, you whimpered and pressed your breasts closer.

With your velvet warmth engulfing him, he released embarrassingly fast. But you continued to rock even as his warmth gushed inside you and reached for his metal hand. Brought it to the apex of your thighs where he wound tight little circles to send you careening over the edge with a sharp cry.

Jesus fuck, he nearly came again with the sensation of you tightening around him, fluttering around him as your body went lax above him. You leaned forward over his chest, eyes glassy and completely blissed out. Brushed a wayward lock of his hair behind his ear and kissed him once. Head tucked under his chin, him softening inside you, it was peaceful, quiet, the sounds of your breaths the only sound in the room.

He swept a hand over your back. The metal one, and you shivered, nudging closer with a hum. You fell asleep like that, and after a few moments of your soft breaths, Bucky followed.

The next morning, he was woken by a buzzing. A steady, but rising hum that had his eyelids fluttering. He was on his side, curled around you as you slumbered away. He lifted his head from the pillow, blearily looking around the room. Nothing.

Rising from the bed, padding to the window, a moment of silent shock before he was thrown into action.

He shook you awake at the same time he tugged on his pants, a sense of urgency pulling you out of your deep sleep. Took in his panicked eyes, mouth moving, telling you you need to move. A herd outside, bigger than any he’s ever seen.

Must’ve been walking for days, gathered numbers beyond countable, made its way here.

You insisted you could wait it out, stay silent and let it pass. But Bucky wasn’t hearing it, countering that the herd would take down the whole house and end up inside anyways. He tossed you your belongings, nearly knocked you out with a boot, and you hurried to dress and gather your weapons.

You led him out the back, quick and silent and through the trees surrounding the yard. There were stragglers out here, not enough to be cumbersome but enough to keep your alertness on high. Bucky’s assassin training went into overdrive, ears and eyes straining for any sign of the massive herd. A deafening crack as it no doubt nearly leveled a house with its strength. He wouldn’t say it, but he was scared, especially since you weren’t as silent as he was, and more and more walkers appeared out from behind trees like some kind of Halloween walk.

Sweat poured into his eyes, hair plastered to his forehead, he went cold when he heard your shriek. Three of the dead around you, dead fingers had your arms in a vice. Bucky saw red. Disposed of them with a brutality he hadn’t seen since his Winter Soldier days while you looked on in a weird combination of pride and horror. Arm gripped tightly in his metal fist, he pulled you along. It wasn’t a mission this time driving him, it was fear. For you.

In a day he’d found you wormed inside him, inside his heart, and instead of a mission to kill, he was on a mission to save. The thought would have been amusing had he not turned into a tightly-clustered copse of trees and barreled straight into five of them.

He went down, two of the dead following him while the others went right for you. With the strength of ten men he bashed their dead heads together, grimacing at the explosion of decayed, viscous, black brain matter that probably would stain his clothes. He pressed his mouth in a tight line as it dripped onto his face, and your shout of agony filled him with both ice and fire.

He turned, body stilling completely as he took in the jagged shape of teeth in the junction of your shoulder and neck. Blood seeped into your clothing, leaked from the wound in angry red torrents, and you pressed a hand uselessly to it. It oozed between your fingers, dripped down your arm like something out of a horror movie. Your complexion was paling quickly. The snarling of more walkers made you turn, resigned. You turned glassy, shining eyes to him when he approached, hands hovering over the wound.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so helpless. Not when he was strapped to that machine in Siberia. But this was a new sense of helplessness, watching you bleed out in front of him. The new walkers stumbled closer, driven by the scent of blood, and you pulled a gun from the waistband of your jeans, usually a last resort, and he knew.

“You need to go,” you said, voice quiet and hoarse and barely restrained with the fear that was so obvious in your eyes. Your fingers racked the slide, thumb flicking the safety. Rolled up on your toes to press a deep, salty kiss to his mouth before you wrenched away and began yelling, leading the walkers in the opposite direction of Bucky.

Bucky, who still hadn’t moved an inch. Only watched as the small group stumbled after you. One at the back strayed off, was put down by Bucky’s metal fist, and then he ran.

He could hear you yelling, urging the dead after you. Then the shots started, your yelling punctuated by a gunshot then.

Silence.

No more shouting, no more gunshots, and Bucky wanted to go back for you, though he knew it would be for nothing. He let himself cry as he ran, weaving in and out of trees until a lone hunting cabin loomed in the distance.

It was free of the dead. Cleared of anything living, dead, or otherwise, and he laid low. Mourned for you, threw a few of the cabin’s belongings in a sorrowful rage.

He spent a few days there, gathered a couple of squirrels and a fish from a nearby creek, and then he moved on. It was all he could do.

Move on.

#fatimas10kchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #the walking dead #crossover #the walking dead x marvel #writing challenge #bucky barnes angst

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wordywarriorwrites · 5 years

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Chapter 2: Nothing Personal

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration & Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge. Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities.

Steve watched with narrowed eyes as the woman behind the counter tongued a lollipop and denied knowing her boss’s whereabouts. He didn’t have time for bullshit, nor was he in the mood to be polite, and when she slurped and lied again, he snapped.

“Go back there and tell him Steve Rogers is here,” he ordered. “Do it, right fucking now, or I will make your death look like an unfortunate choking accident.”

The woman must’ve sensed it wasn’t an idle threat because she immediately dropped the candy into the trash and ran for the office door. Her rapid knocking resulted in her being told to “fuck off,” but the moment she stuttered his name, she was instructed to flip the sign, lock the front door, and get lost.

“Well, well, well,” Sam greeted. “Has the prodigal son finally returned?”

Steve unzipped his jacket, retrieved an envelope from the inner-pocket, and tossed it onto the counter. When Sam broke the seal, a lot of green was revealed, and he motioned for Steve to follow him.

As soon as the hidden panel in the back room slid open, a dark, twisted zing of excitement shot up his spine. This life and the behavior it evoked – it should’ve bothered him, but it didn’t. Like no time had passed at all, Sam followed him around the room, duffel bag at the ready, and packed up his selections. When asked what all the hardware was for, Steve said personal protection, and shoved another envelope of money into Sam’s hand.

“Steve, man, come on…”

“Take it. Call it an apology bonus.”

Sam handed over the bag and pocketed the cash, “He’s in charge now. You know that, right?”

Steve grunted in acknowledgement, but didn’t comment. He’d been in town less than a week and had already heard all about what the man had been up to over the last five years. When Steve had known him, he’d been Bucky, but now, he went by JB, and his former best friend was at the tippy-top of the proverbial food chain.

There were six Families – Barton, Maximoff, Odinson, Stark, Rogers, and Barnes – and all their ancestors had taken a turn at the helm at one time or another. He and Bucky had been raised from birth to own and run the city, but they hadn’t just grown up and come up together – they’d gone through everything together. Puberty; initiation; coming out of the closet; bad breakups; first jobs; high school; college.

They’d even buried their first dead body together.

After graduation, Steve had a position lined up at a lucrative art gallery ripe for money laundering and weapons trafficking. Bucky threw himself in with the politicians and socialites, which provided ample opportunity for extortion and bribery. For nearly a decade, it had been simple, and it had made sense. They’d excelled; honed their skills; brought in more than enough money to appease. It hadn’t been perfect and they’d fucked up a few times, but no matter what, they’d always had each other’s backs.

Then, one night, Bucky got hurt during what was supposed to have been a routine job, and for Steve, it had changed everything…

He’d met Derek at a gallery opening.

They’d hit it off instantly; exchanged numbers; texted for over a week before finally going on a date. Derek was smart, flirtatious, down-to-earth, and so damn good looking. After their second date, Steve agreed to a nightcap, and followed Derek back to his place. The invitation had been a ploy they’d both been in on and they’d barely made it past the threshold.

“I want you,” he panted as he reached for Steve’s belt.

Steve groaned into Derek’s mouth, “You know I have a minimum three-date rule.”

“Which you know I find archaically sexy.”

“I really should go.”

“I really don’t want you to.”

Self-restraint was all well and good, but after such a long dry spell, it was difficult to stick to principle. It also didn’t help that Derek’s hands had found their way beneath his shirt and his mouth had latched onto a particular spot on Steve’s neck that really drove him crazy. He’d been seconds away from asking where the bedroom was when his cellphone rang, and the sound of Bucky’s ringtone brought him up short.

He knew Steve was on a date, but if Bucky was calling, it was important, and that meant he needed to answer. He apologized to Derek and retrieved his phone from his pocket.

“My best friend – he’s just checking in on me,” Steve explained.

“I completely understand and will make myself scarce,” he replied. “Just be sure to tell him how hot you think I am and that I’m not a serial killer, alright?”

Steve just smirked, and as soon as Derek was out of sight and earshot, he accepted the call. He’d been poised to tell Bucky his timing, per usual, was terrible, but the strained voice that rattled out his name killed both his arousal and his humor. Something had gone wrong and he didn’t hesitate – didn’t even tell Derek he was leaving – he just ran out the door, and got into his car. Bucky only managed to give him a street name before he started wheezing.

“I’m on my way,” Steve told him. “Just hang on. I’m comin’ for you, Buck.”

He couldn’t quite recall where exactly where he’d found Bucky, but he distinctly remembered the blood, and how it had looked as it trickled down his chin and spread all over the pavement. His pale face and cold hands; the absolute terror Steve had felt when he couldn’t get his best friend to wake up; the rage, horror, and regret; the frantic drive to the hospital; the nerve-wracking wait.

The Families made a show of support, but their concern for Bucky’s actual well-being had been feigned at best. Bucky had become a popular man, was well-liked in the territories he ran, and was one of the biggest earners they had. If they lost him, business would suffer, and that’s all they cared about.

While they were preoccupied with appearances, retaliation, and continued cash flow, Steve was losing his mind, because the only man he’d ever loved was hanging on by a thread. When they weighed Bucky’s chances of survival against the consequences of retribution, he knew they had to get out.

Bucky lived and recovered; in fact, he’d bounced back faster and better than anyone expected him to, and the fact that he carried on like a good, little soldier had pissed Steve off. The awkward conversation they had about it turned into a heated argument, and it wasn’t until they’d exchanged blows and Bucky had put Steve in a chokehold that he broke.

He admitted how scared he’d been; that he was furious with the Families; he couldn’t stand the thought of him being hurt again; he’d been in love with him since they were kids; couldn’t imagine life without him. Like a sinner who confessed to a priest, the multitude of iniquities spilled and spilled, but he knew there’d be no absolution – not in this lifetime, at least.

Steve hadn’t just blurred the boundaries of their friendship; he’d completely crossed the line. It could’ve been his admission, Bucky’s brush with death, or the fact they were just two, fucked up men with a lot of baggage – whatever it was, it shifted things between them. Bucky hadn’t commented on anything Steve had told him, but he’d definitely reacted. Instead of being restrained with malice, Steve found himself trapped by passion, and no words had been needed for that.

It had meant something to Steve, but for Bucky, it had been nothing more than a pity fuck…

“You know you can’t hide from him.”

He tore himself away from the bitter musings and looked at Sam, “Who says I’m hiding?”

“He’ll go right for your throat.”

“Careful, Sam, or I’ll start to think you actually care what happens to me.”

“You know I always liked you best.”

Steve rolled his eyes and shouldered the bag, “And on that note.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam muttered as they exited the back room.

He took a different route back to the car, but with each step, the sensation of being followed intensified. When he reached the vehicle, he put the bag in the front passenger seat, shut the door, and slowly turned around. A few moments later, Natasha stepped into the alley, and her appearance meant there would be no meeting in Prospect Park.

“Rogers,” she greeted quietly.

“Romanoff,” he replied back.

Natasha took another step forward, “This isn’t personal.”

Steve nodded once, “I know.”

When presented with a difficult decision, the Families either discussed it, ignored it, or threw money at it. They hadn’t invited him for a sit-down, let alone attempted to bribe him, and he knew they wouldn’t have taken him down in public, which meant it wasn’t a fully planned, sanctioned hit.

Bucky would’ve backed down or at the very least done it himself.

JB had pulled rank and sent someone else to do his dirty work.

“Just make it quick,” he told her.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, “I will.”

Steve showed her his empty hands and it lulled her into a false sense of security. She reached for her weapon and he allowed her to. Then, without reluctance or mercy, used her own tactics against her.

An abrupt intake of breath; a sudden cough; a low groan of pain.

The retractable wrist blade had slipped right between her ribs and punctured a lung.

Steve withdrew the knife and watched as Natasha slowly fell to her knees on the dirty, wet pavement. He found her phone in her pocket, thought about using it to call her an ambulance, but reconsidered. Instead, he demanded she unlock it, and after she did, he brought up good ol’ JB’s number.

“Is it done?” he asked by way of greeting.

“No,” Steve answered coldly. “But if you hurry, she might live.”

Chapter 3: Sleight

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard @lilliannaansalla

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allisonbaelfire · 5 years

Text

Tacenda

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: After years in captivity and experiments by Hydra, you manage to break out. Together with the maximoff twins you fought Hydra - until you got hit by a blast and woke up in the hospital with the Avengers. You decide to live with them. It was all good until Tony wanted to find out how powerful you really are.

Word Count: 3,655

Tacenda (n.) = Things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence

_________________________

“How is she?” You heard a female voice asking.

“How’d you feel after being hit by one of Tony’s blast?” A strong male voice countered.

~*~

Two Days Earlier:

“Bonne journée chérie.” A Guard grinned as he passed your cell and woke you up.

You could hardly open your eyes.

The Guard clattered against the bars with one of those electric escrima sticks each one of them had. “Get up, training starts in a few minutes.”

Your body hurt, every inch of it. You looked like you would’ve fought with bears. You were covered in scares and bruises and lost more weight every day. It was hard getting up and standing on your own feet, especially when you barley felt them. But you did what he wanted you to do because you knew you would get more punches, if you didn’t. Who knows how much you could endure?

“Hey Asshole!” A familiar voice yelled. “Leave Y/N alone.”

You were tired but recognized Pietro’s voice. It was nice to hear your name, sometimes you forgot it. In here everyone just called you ‘R22’.

You saw that the Guard was going in Pietro’s direction, you knew he’d get electric shocks when he’d stand in front of him.

“Leave him be, I’m ready.” You said, and the Guard was coming back to you, still looking warningly at Pietro.

You saw how desperate he wanted to shock Pietro with the escrima but he had a job. He had to get you and bring you into the training station, otherwise he might get electric shocks himself.

“Y/N, you can’t...” You heard Wanda as she looked at you with a broken heart.

You gave her a small smile, while the Guard unlocked your cell. You were the oldest and felt responsible for Pietro and Wanda, you often volunteered whenever they should do a job or anything. So it was you who had to convince them, that you were fine and everything would be over soon, even when you weren’t sure about that yourself.

>>BOOOM<<

You heard a loud noise that came very close to an explosion. The walls moved, and small stones fell to the ground. You looked at Wanda who was clearly terrified, while Pietro tried to heat up the bars he was locked up behind, with his bare hands using his super speed.

“I’m getting us out.” Pietro mumbled nervously.

The Guard was distracted by the noises from upstairs. You tried to focus on the handcuffs, that decorated your wrist all the time, until you saw that they had an icecap on them.

You kicked the Guard between his legs and hit him with the cuffs, they broke, and your hands were free. You grinned as you saw him laying on the ground, whining in pain. You kicked him in his stomach, to make sure he wouldn’t get up so fast. You turned to Pietro, but he showed you to get Wanda first. You got the keys from the Guards belt and opened her cell. You heard gun shots upstairs. You ran over to Pietro and freed him too. Other Guards were coming downstairs. You looked at them and grinned as you saw that they were afraid of the three of you.

“Go, or I’ll make you.” You warned them.

They raised their weapons and aimed at you.

“Wrong decision.” Wanda smirked.

As soon as Wanda and you decided to use your powers, the Guards were already unarmed and unconscious.

“You took too long.” Pietro grinned.

You smiled. “It’s time to get out.”

Wanda and Pietro nodded.

~*~

You walked careful upstairs and saw Hydra employees. Everyone was still sitting calmly on their monitors, while they were under attack.

“I’ll go and look who is attacking us, you two try to be normal. You’re their favorites, they won’t harm you, but if they try to you run,” You looked at Pietro. “and you tear them apart.” You squeezed Wanda’s Hand gently. “I’ll find you and then we’ll start over somewhere far away.”

~*~

While you went through the castle to get an overview of the situation, you tried to keep your head clear. Today was the first chance to escape and you would not risk that by getting yourself killed.

“R22.” You recognized Strucker’s voice. “What a surprise.”

“Leave me be or you’ll regret it.” You hissed.

You heard someone coming behind you but didn’t think about to turn around. If it was one of the Guards, you could take him down easily, but if you’d let Strucker out of your sight, he could get away and find Pietro and Wanda.

“Captain.” Strucker nodded probably at the Person behind you. You held your hand up, aiming at Strucker.

“Baron Strucker. Hydra's number one thug.” A man replied behind you.

“Technically, I'm a thug for SHIELD.” Strucker added.

“Well then technically you're unemployed. Where's Loki's scepter?” The Captain asked as he came next to you. He seemed to be confused why you were aiming with your bare hand at Strucker.

Strucker looked at you and noticed that you were running out of patience. “Don't worry, I know when I'm beat. You'll mention how I cooperated, I hope.”

Cap just shook his head in disbelief. “I'll put it right under illegal human experimentation.”

You noticed that Wanda was showing out of the dark. You looked at her and tried to show her that she had to go. Suddenly, Wanda knocks the man next to you down, using her telekinetic powers. Then she left.

You were still aiming at Strucker and you weren’t planning on letting him go. The Captain stood up and looked at Wanda which made you nervous. The tall blond man didn’t seem to be after you or the other two, but you were not taking the risk and prepared yourself to engage if necessary.

“We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage.” He commanded.

Strucker grinned. “You'll have to be faster than...”

But the Captain used his shield and knocked Strucker out. You let your arm slowly fall, but your body was still in defense mode.

“Are you okay?” He shared a warm but small smile. You nodded. You wanted to answer but for any reason you couldn’t. “What’s your name? I’m Steve Rogers.”

“R22 – I mean – watch out!“

Guards were coming, and you stepped in front Steve. You lifted your arm and an enormous blue and shiny fire shot out of your hand. It looked like it could burn down everything in its near but instead, it ensured that the soldiers freeze until they couldn’t move.

“Cap, get away!” A man with a metal suit flew above you and shot at you.

~*~

Today:

“Steve, he thought she’d attack you.”

Steve looked at you. “Tony shot without asking. She stood in front of me, so how did she plan to attack me?”

“Steve-“ The woman started.

Steve interrupted her. “No, Natasha he always does-“

“Where am I?” You asked as you slowly opened your tired eyes.

As soon as you had open them, you absorbed your surroundings. You noticed you were in a hospital room. You saw the man you were trying to protect, a woman with red hair but you didn’t remember much.

“Where are the Twins?” You asked weak.

Steve came next to you. “We don’t know yet, they ran off.”

“But are they-?”

“They’re very much alive.” The red-haired woman assured you grinning.

You were relieved. As soon as you stopped thinking about your friends for a second, a pain, you’ve never felt before, entered your body. You tried to hide it, like you did so many times after HYDRA had experimented on you.

“It’s okay. You’re not weak by showing you’re in pain. You were lucky.” Steve responded and showed you your stomach... Your stomach was covered with bandages, where you could still see the blood through. “Would you like to tell me your name now? Last time we were interrupted.” Steve smiled.

“My name is Y/N.” You returned the smile.

A man with dark hair stepped into the room. “Oh, she’s awake.”

You recognized the voice and you automatically sat in the bed, aiming your hand at him. He was the man who shot you. Your hand was already glowing blue. You ignored the unbearable pain like HYDRA trained you to.

“Hey, Hey!” Tony raised his hands in defense.

Steve stood up, “Tony, get out.” He said calmly but with a warning behind his words.

“But we’ve to check her.” Tony replied.

Natasha turned to Tony and touched gently his shoulder. “Maybe later, we should go.” Tony looked at Steve, trying to understand why he seemed to be upset with him. “Tony, come on.”

~*~

A few days later:

Days past and you started to feel better also your trust to Steve grew. He visited you nearly every day in the hospital room. He explained everything to you, where you were, who he and the others are and why they attacked Hydra.

You told him that you got kidnapped by Hydra after you lost your parents in a car accident, and after that they started experimenting on you and a few others. You were the only one who survived until the Twins came.

Steve had a soft look as he heard your Story. “You've been locked up in a cage for years and I think your wounds have healed so good, that you can get out of here. How about if you come with me in the Avengers tower?” You looked at him in confusion. “Everyone already agreed. You can stay with us and have a safe place to live, as long as you want to.”

You didn’t know what to say at first. His suggestion sounded good, but you only trusted him and were still afraid for you and for the twins. But where else should you go? All you knew was Hydra. You had no money and no idea what a normal life would look like.

You nodded and gave him a shy smile.

~*~

You were living in the Avengers Tower for a while now. You got along with everyone well, even with Tony. He apologized a couple of times, but Steve still wouldn’t let him near you to make his tests he wanted, so Tony could learn more about you and your powers. Steve wanted you to feel safe, not like a lab rat.

Tony was with Bruce in his lab and observed Steve and you while sitting on the couch, talking with each other.

“I don’t get why he is so overprotective...” Tony questioned himself. “I mean, he trusted Y/N so quickly, what if she’s a spy?”

Bruce looked at him in disbelief, while Natasha walked inside the lab.

“You really don’t see it, don’t you? What kind of a genius are you?” She smirked.

Tony leaned against his table. “At first, I thought because of his long-lost best friend, what was his name again?”

“I think it was Bucky.” Bruce answered.

“Yes, Buckaroo- I mean he was Hydra too and got manipulated.”

Bruce nodded. “It makes sense. Bucky didn’t want Steve’s help and because of this, he could be somehow obsessed with Y/N and has to help her.”

“He’s not obsessed with her.” Natasha chuckled. “Maybe at first, it was about Bucky but it quickly turned into something else. I saw it when I was sparring with her. He had to hold himself back otherwise he’d have intervened.” Natasha looked at the two grown man in front of her, but they still didn’t get her point.

Clint joined the conversation and smirked. “Steve is in love with Y/N.”

Bruce and Tony looked at each other, not believing a word.

“They don’t know each other that long, three or five months now?” Tony questioned.

“What has this to do with falling in love with someone?” Clint asked and looked at Natasha who just shrug with her shoulders. “They protected each other in the second where they saw each other for the first time. They have also much in common.”

Everyone looked at Clint, they were amazed at his words to explain why it was so clear that Steve loved you.

“Whatever. He doesn’t make the first step.” Natasha said.

~*~

“Steve, can I ask you something?” You spoke softly. He nodded. “I know the Twins are not really my siblings, but they became family over the years and I need to be with them. I need them with me. How do we find them?”

Steve nodded. He understood your longing and yet the words were in some way hurtful to him. But he had to come to terms with the thought that one day you would go again.

“I promise, we’ll do everything to find them. Tony and Bruce are already on it.” He took gently your hand in his and you blushed a bit. He noticed you blushing even when you looked down. He grinned softly. “I'm going to train a bit now, I'll see you at dinner.” He stood up, kissed your head and left the room.

As soon as Steve was gone you had the biggest smile on your face, for the first time in years. Steve gave you something that nobody ever could. A happy life. When you woke up in the morning, you already had a smile on your face because it would be a good day and you were free, because Steve was there and made sure you’d be happy.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Tony coming inside the living room.

“Hey, Iceshine.” He smiled, and you looked at him confused. “You’re a sunshine but your powers and- I think it fits.” You chuckled soft.

You noticed that Tony wasn’t here for some bounding small talk, you were familiar with the expression he had on his face.

“You want to ask me again?”

“I want you to understand your own powers. I think you could reach a maximum on potential, if you’d understand how they work.” Tony spoke.

You didn’t know if you really wanted to know the full potential of your powers, what if Hydra had done more to you? Most of all, you knew Steve wouldn’t agree, he didn’t want to give Tony the chance to create more people like you.

Steve thought that if people should’ve powers, God would give it to them. He knew what it was like to be seen as an experiment and he didn’t want you to ever feel that way.

But Tony also had a point. If you understood all the power of your gift, you could control it more, and it wouldn’t just be a weapon, a burden. You could help people, be a hero - and not the villain Hydra wanted you to be.

“If I say stop, will you stop?” You asked in a serious tone. Tony nodded.

~*~

A few days after your talk, Tony had already prepared everything in his lab to do the experiments. Neither you nor Tony told anyone about it. But you had a bad conscience about Steve, he wanted to protect you from this, but didn’t you have the right to know what you really could and what else Hydra might’ve done to you?

“If you’d please lay down here,” Tony said and helped you to get on a table. “I’ll put these cuffs around your hands, waist and ankles – so that your safe and me too.”

You understand why Tony tied you tight and tried to hide your fear as you layed down. After all, Tony was not Hydra, he wouldn’t hurt you.

Tony used at machine that looked like an MRT, only more modern. You drove slowly in and felt a slight tingling. After a few minutes the tingling began to sting a few places of your body. You didn’t know what to do. Tony told you to stay as calm as you could, otherwise the test results could be wrong.

However, your body started to react to Tony's device. It felt like your whole body was trying to fight it. You could barely see Tony through the device, although it was translucent because a thin layer of ice formed on it.

“Everything is alright.” Tony assured you. “Let it happen.”

Your body tensed, and the ice began to form inside. While you were getting warmer, you could see through the small gap on the side, that Tony was shaking, and his lips slowly turned blue. You got nervous and noticed that you were slowly losing control over your powers. You hand began to shine blue.

You feel that you got stronger and if you wanted, you could easily break Tony's device. After a while, you felt that you could turn everything around you into ice. Not only did you feel Tony's blood slowing down, but also everyone’s in the building.

~*~

Steve and the others have just returned from a mission, when they realized that the doors had an ice sheet. Client tried to get the door open and pulled it, but more than a mark on the inside of his hand by the cold didn’t happen.

Steve had a bad feeling in his stomach and had a guess what had happened. He ordered Natasha to heat the door until she could come in, he would try another way by then.

~*~

Tony tried his best to keep himself warm. He didn’t want to turn off the device, so he had as specific results as possible, but he also saw that he might lose control.

You knew where you were, and you knew that Tony would take care of you, but you felt how all your power wanted to flee your body.

It was amazing to feel the blood of another creature. Feeling like you could turn the whole building into an ice palace with a thought, didn’t scare you anymore. The strength felt too good. Nobody would ever lock you up again.

“Tony, wh-what the hell?” You heard Steve.

He looked at angry at Tony. He couldn’t believe what he saw. The whole lab – the whole Tower was completely covered in ice. You could have thought you were in the deepest of winter, the cold was hard to bear - but Tony didn’t think about stopping you yet.

“Turn it off!” Cap shouted.

“You try to keep her small, Steve, but she deser-ves to know what she can do.” Tony replied shaking.

“I’m trying to protect her! Look around, everything is covered in ice. If she continues, who knows what happens to us and Y/N.” He tried to appeal to Tony but he still wouldn’t listen.

You heard every word and felt that Steve's heartbeat was getting slower. Suddenly your powers scared you, but how could you regain control? Tony's device amplifies your power in an unnatural way. The device had to be destroyed before you could intervene.

“T-Tony, please. I-I-“ Steve was shaking and fell slowly to the ground but Tony was already unconscious.

You could barely hear the heartbeat of both. You had to free yourself somehow. You tried all your power on Tony's device. All the power froze the device and caused a short circuit. You freed yourself the same way from the handcuffs and rushed to Steve.

You took his body in your arms and unlike him you were very warm. You held him tight and concentrated only on him, to take the cold was your goal and you succeeded. Steve's heart beat faster again and he opened his eyes. Tears rolled down your cheeks as he gently touched your face with his hand. You almost lost him because you lost control of yourself.

The other Avengers came into the room and noticed how the ice slowly came back to you. It was like you were ordering it to come home, while you were still looking only at Steve.

You felt Tony's heartbeat again and were relieved. For a hair you would have lost people who were important to you.

“I’m so sorry.” You spoke softly.

Steve sat up slowly while the others helped Tony. “It wasn’t your fault Y/N.” He gave Tony a look. “Let’s get out of here.”

You helped Steve get up and took him out of the lab and into his bedroom.

~*~

You noticed that he still had pain from your cold when he layed in his bed. You tried to control your emotions but the fear that you almost lost him came over you and tears rolled down again.

“Come here.” He said and wanted you to lay next to him.

You knew how mad he was at Tony, but it was not just Tony's fault but yours too. You embraced the power and then you could no longer control it. You were afraid of destroying years of friendship between Tony and Steve just because you wanted to learn more.

“It was my fault, I should’ve told him no.” You said as you layed on Steve’s chest.

Steve took a deep breath. “Tony shouldn’t have asked you again. You just wanted to know yourself and to have the control, after someone else took from you years ago.”

You nodded softly. “How are you, Captain?” You tried so change the subject.

He smirked. “Cold.”

You both had to laugh. Suddenly, a feeling came over you that you didn’t experienced before. You felt a warmth inside your body and relief. You were falling in love with Steve Rogers while he was holding you in his arms.

You notice that he breathed more calmly, you looked at him to make sure that he was okay. You saw that he was sleeping. You smiled and kissed him softly on his lips. Then you put your head back on his chest and fell slowly asleep as well. What you didn’t know, Steve was still awake and he was already head over heels for you

________________________________

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