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hissterical-nyaan · 3 years

Text

The Promise

Pairing - Bucky Barnes/Desi! Female reader

Warning - Angst, sad ending, more angst

Summary - Bucky Barnes broke one promise that meant the most to Y/N

Word count - 1.5K

A/N - This is my first ever fanfic, I am very anxious so please be gentle with me :) This was created purely to make y'all cry lol. This is a songfic of "Lag ja gale" of Lata Mangeshkar ji. I absolutely adore that song and found it quite fit for this story!!! Also English isn't my first language and there might be grammatical mistakes. Thanks to @soradragon for beta reading this and helping me complete it, you are a blessing. Love you 💙 happy reading folks!

It was peaceful in Wakanda, a cool night had taken its place from the hot humid air of the day, the stars were shining bright and serenity hung in the air. It was impossible to imagine what the next day would have in store for everyone. No one had a clue that tomorrow was the day that would change everyone's lives forever.

There was the sound of soft humming coming from the modest hut which housed the one and only the White Wolf and his lover.

Inside was you, singing songs softly in your mother’s tongue before the two would go to bed for the night. It was a nightly ritual the two of you shared. For Bucky had found your voice so soothing it would chase away the recurring nightmares that would haunt his sleep every night. Bucky Barnes was unable to sleep without his love in his arms, without her angelic voice singing for him, and without her soft hand weaving through his hair.

You had an awful day today, throughout the day you felt anxious and restless. As if your mind has been screaming at you that something bad was about to transpire. You had no idea what, but it was bad. if there is one thing you hated most, it would be not knowing what will happen next.

You liked being prepared for everything! Your distressed state made you itch for your ma's presence and her wise words. So the next best thing to feel like she was there was to sing your ma's favourite song. It was a song you had beautiful emotional memories attached to.

Lata ji's masterpiece ‘Lag ja gale’. The song that always left you peaceful.

"What's on your mind, chaand? No cheesy love songs today?" Bucky teased lightly, slightly puzzled by the song choice. Normally, you would sing more happy, sweet love songs when you were in a good mood, not to forget how out of character you acted the entire day.

"Acha? You said you don't like my cheesy songs na, so I thought today I will comply with your wish and not sing my ‘overly romantic, Shona Babu songs.’” You shot back, poking your tongue out as not to worry him. Bucky pouted slightly.

"Arre baba okay now don't pout, I was just joking. I will sing the cheesy songs again tomorrow, right now this song just feels right to me.” Hearing that, Bucky mumbled a quiet yes and snuggled deeper into you, holding you tightly and moving his head ever so slightly to listen to your voice.

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Jaa Gale Ae Ae… (Embrace me, dear, who knows whether or not this beautiful night will ever come again. Maybe in this life we may or may not meet again)

You remember the first time you met Bucky, in Shuri's lab. You were a good friend of Shuri. You were a researcher staying in Wakanda with T'challa's permission and eventually befriended the Princess. The two of you loved to talk about anything and nothing. One day Shuri told you about the Winter soldier staying here in Wakanda. You had heard many things about him, but never had you seen him in the flesh. Till you saw him come into the lab, bruised and eyes swiming full of emotions, but the distraught was the most clear in those blue piercing eyes.

It was at that moment that you had decided you would help him, and try to soothe the aches and scars that had been covering his fragile heart. He was put in the cryo soon after your first encounter, but you couldn't help but think about him often.

Ham Ko Mili Hain Aaj Ye, Ghadiyaan Nasib Se

Ji Bhar Ke Dekh Lijiye, Ham Ko Qarib Se

Phir Aap Ke Nasib Men, Ye Baat Ho Na Ho (I have been given today, this time by destiny. To your hearts content see me closely, who knows, if your destiny, may present this situation again.)

Six months later, Bucky came out of the cryo and on his request, was given a small hut away from the palace in the fields. You often saw him, with his tiny herd of goats. You remember how one tiny goat - which Bucky had endearingly called Steve - was the one who caused you to talk to Bucky. Maybe that's why he was still your favourite goat, afterall he was responsible for giving you the love of your life.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Your phone rang suddenly. Bucky moved his head from your lap as you moved to get the phone, it was your brother who was calling you. It puzzled you, it was nearly midnight in India. "Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." You went numb...The words didn’t make sense, you couldn’t make sense of them... Ma papa? No, no this can't be happening. You...you just talked to your mom a few hours ago! Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, holding you so close. He whispered some words into your ear trying to soothe you. But you couldn’t hear them, your mind just kept repeating your brother’s words inside your head like a mantra. That’s when the tears fell, soaking Bucky’s shirt. You didn’t remember you screamed.

Paas Aaiye Ki Ham Nahin Aaenge Baar-Baar

Baahen Gale Men Daal Ke Ham Ro Le Zaar-Zaar

Aankhon Se Phir Ye Pyaar Ki Barsaat Ho Na Ho (Come closer to me, as I will not be able to come to you every time. Put your arms around me and let us cry our hearts out. Who knows, if our eyes will ever see these tears of love again.)

You couldn’t imagine what you would be without Bucky, your Bucky. He was your rock, You couldn't live a day without him. From the day you confessed your love for each other till today, not a day has gone where he wasn't showering you with love. Even through all his trauma and pain, he did his absolute best to be there for you, his sweet, sweet Y/N.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Remembering the past left you in an emotional mess, you didn't even realise when the waterworks started.

"Chaand? Hey, no shhh why are you crying? Is everything okay? Talk to me."

"Bucky?"

"Haan chaand?"

"Promise me that you will never leave me." You uttered in a broken whisper

"I promise."

He broke that promise. Bucky Barnes broke his promise and left his chaand. It happened so fast, the Avengers fighting Thanos, and suddenly everyone turning into dust.

You felt helpless and scared, numb and cold. what was happening? Bucky had told you to not come out of the palace unless told. He didn't want you to be in harm's way. No, his Y/N was too precious, he can't risk it. You reluctantly agreed, but you weren't of much use on the battlefield anyway. You just hoped your love would return to you very soon.

Steve broke the news, and your whole world collapsed in front of your eyes.

"Steve, no..no it can't be... please tell me you are lying. This isn't the time to joke around! Where is he!?" you couldn't help but scream at him. All your dreams, hopes and future with Bucky shattered. He was gone, in just a snap. It couldn’t be real, this was a sick joke. that had to be it. A sick joke…

But deep inside, you knew it was real. All of it was real. The world around you seemed to crumble, all of it came down, it was as if someone let a glass cup fall and it shattered in a million pieces. Unable to be put back together again…

Now you had no one, no mom and dad, no Bucky...He was your rock wasn't he? He wasn't supposed to go...

After a few days, Steve offered to take you to America with him. The least he could do for his pal was to make sure the girl who had his heart was taken care of. But you couldn't go, it was too painful. Brooklyn will always remind you of Bucky, and you promised him when the time came to go back to his home, you will go together. No, unlike him Y/N L/N knew how to keep her promise.

You went back to India, to start a new life. A miserable one. If only you would have known that the last song you’ve sung to him would come true.

You never sang your mother's favourite song again

Tagging - @spiderrpcrker @a-dragon-under-the-stars @lil-stark @jacquessouvenier @soradragon (I hope you won't mind me tagging you!) And I also hope you liked it :))

Translations (please let me know if I forgot to translate something) -

Chaand - Moon (an affectionate term in this context)

Acha - Really (in this context, it can mean many things otherwise)

"Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." - "Y/N please come fast here, mom and dad were in an car crash, I am so sorry but we couldn't save them" (ma = mom, papa = dad)

Haan - yes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #desi fic #marvel fanfic #Bucky Barnes x desi reader #indian reader #marvel #mcu #idk what other tags to use 🤦

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

words hung above, but never would form

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: mcu, what if...?

rating: mature

word count: 3500

warning: swearing, alcohol, major character death, blood, guns

summary: What might've happened after the zombie apocalypse broke out, before the last team of heroes was formed, and how Bucky Barnes lost Sam Wilson. (pre-canon fic to what if... zombies!?)

(a few days ago i posted this very painful angst fic i thought of after the zombies episode of what if...? so here i am dropping it on tumblr as well!! i apologise, please know that it broke my heart to write this. uhm. that’s all!)

read on ao3

It’s been three months since they lost Steve.

Well, since the world lost most of the Avengers, really. And since the world lost most of its, uh, regular people anyway.

It’s a dark world full of shit and blood and brains out there now, yet Bucky’s taking his cold shower in the morning and cannot bring himself to care much. Sounds harsh, he knows.

He knew nothing of this new world and new time except his best friend, so of fucking course, Steve being… not Steve made him feel like there was no fucking point to anything. If the Avengers couldn’t beat this zombie virus? Yeah, there’s no hope for humanity anymore.

Except… except the man who greets him in the morning, handing him a plate of pancakes without even asking if he wanted some and pinning yet another red pin on their vastly growing map of ghost towns. Those are fully infected spots, by the way. Nothing left but the undead. The map is turning overwhelmingly red overwhelmingly fast.

The man hovering at said map also hands him his coffee, puts on one of the records from their LP stash, and smiles his sunny, stupid grin before ruffling Bucky’s hair and telling him he missed a spot.

Yeah, the world’s become even more of a dog eat dog world than before.

But Bucky Barnes’ got Sam Wilson. And nothing else matters.

It’s ironic really, that when he’s gotten out of cryo, that he’s finally rid of the Hydra programming and torture and pain he’s endured for years, and at the same time, someone somewhere got bitten and humanity’s become a walking all you can eat buffet. Perfect timing.

Of course, Steve’s never fled from a fight in his life, so honestly? Bucky can’t exactly say he’s surprised. He is- sorry, was an Avenger after all. The little shit.

What does surprise him, however, is finding himself growing closer to Sam, Steve’s friend who for some reason, somehow, was just as intent on finding him as Steve was. And… helping him. Saving him.

Bucky never understood why. He still doesn’t. He hates himself for everything they made him do, he’ll probably continue hating himself for as long as he lives, no matter how much he tries to suppress it, but Sam doesn’t.

Sam fought for him, fought with him, visited him in Wakanda and took him back to a somewhat normal life before… you know. Now they’ve found a safehouse after losing everyone they had, except each other, and they’ve zombie-proofed to the best of their ability.

And life with Sam, well, Bucky could get used to it. In fact, he gets used to it very quickly.

Sam smiles so easily at him and doesn’t look at him like he’s a broken man who needs to be fixed. Sam doesn’t look at him with resentment, or pity, he just… looks at him.

It’s hard to explain.

Thing is, nothing makes sense. The violence that keeps on going and going doesn’t make sense, Bucky losing his best friend in the world doesn’t make sense, the streets being abandoned and houses vacant and survival being a constant factor in life now doesn’t make sense.

But the man he’s hiding out with makes sense. He makes so much sense. The only thing that makes sense anymore.

His existence is constant, he’s there for him when he lets him and when he doesn’t, he gives him space. The shorter man is as if the sun was living and breathing, and himself, well, he’s the moon. He’s just trying to stay in Sam's orbit.

Chasing after him. Circulating. Bashing in everything he’s willing to give him.

The scruffy beard he’s let grow, and him humming to himself while he’s working on Redwing, and the wheezing, carefree laugh he can’t stop when Bucky suggests they watch a zombie movie one night. He tells Sam not to overwork himself and he promises not to, and the other man tells him to let him know what’s going on in his head, and hell, Bucky tells him. He tells him everything.

In fact, it’s the same night they do watch a zombie movie, frequently pointing out the inaccuracies and turning it into a drinking game with the terrible, terrible booze they swiped from the supermarket, that he looks at the short haired man dozing off on his shoulder and realises that this is the most peace he’s ever had.

It’s basically an apocalypse outside, but Bucky can’t get himself to look away from Sam’s eyelashes fluttering lightly as he slips off to sleep.

Their legs are tangled into each other on the coffee table, the microwave popcorn long abandoned, one of his friend’s hands resting on his thigh.

His beard scratches his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. Sam has asked him if he should shave it several times, but God no, never. That beard’s been doing a lot of things to him - all good, of course.

He turns down the volume a bit. Sam looks peaceful. He hasn’t been sleeping much, he knows neither of them have, and where’s the time for it, anyway? He’s glad he is now.

Bucky can’t get himself to move, fearing waking the short haired man from his slumber, and for a minute, the outside world is far, far away from their reality.

Sam looks incredibly soft in that ripped sweater and sweatpants and the snore he lets out is no less than adorable.

It’s like- he looks at this man, and suddenly it’s like everything just falls back into place.

He looks soft in the morning over breakfast and hazy eyes, soft in the evening when he says goodnight, soft when he’s clutching the photos of his nephews (AJ and Cass were their names, he’s learned), soft when he’s retelling a memory with his parents on the family boat, soft when they both muse about Steve and his dumb shenanigans.

He looks something entirely different when he’s shirtless out of the shower and tiny droplets still fall down his chest and abs and Bucky struggles to breathe, every damn time. He only realises now why that is.

Sam is like a sunset, because Bucky wants nothing more than to wake up to this man and nothing else every day, till the end of time. What more could he wish for?

He’s beautiful. Bucky doesn’t think he’s called anyone, or anything beautiful before.

Looking back, he can’t see anymore how they could argue and bicker and annoy each other, and doesn't understand why. He’s wasted so much fucking time doing that. Not anymore. He could never go back to that, it would most likely kill him. Steve would be thrilled if he could see them now, wouldn't he?

And while this realization dawns upon him, washing over him like the biggest wave you could possibly imagine, he wonders if Sam feels the same when he looks at him.

Does he feel safe falling asleep on his shoulder like this? Does he find everlasting comfort in his smile like he does in his, does he wake up hoping and praying to see his smile, just once? Does he do everything he can think of to make him look at him, like he tries every single day?

He can only dream.

Huh. So this is what it’s like to be in love. Bucky doesn’t hate it.

It’s only a month after his life-changing realization of the sort that couldn't make him concentrate on everything else, that Bucky decides today is the day. He’s going to confess his feelings for his friend.

And this is something in the middle of chaos, something he’s never experienced before. He’d never thought he’d practice his words in the mirror like a nervous teenager, but alas.

Sam Wilson, I’m in love with you. No. No, it’s too short. Think, James. What does he make you feel?

Sam, you’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. Sam, I want to see you smile every day. Sam, I want to make you happy… as happy, as… happy as you make me.

Too long? Shit.

Sam, you’re the only good in this piece of shit world. I love you. Sam hates when he’s that pessimistic, though, and always tells him to cheer up, even in the middle of a zombie invasion. Another reason why he loves him.

Sam, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.

His stream of thought is interrupted by faint clanging in the kitchen of their safehouse. Bucky sighs. He’s not sure this is going to be perfect, he wants it to be.

He has to go, he has to try. Now or never.

Except… the smile he’s come to anticipate every single morning isn’t there to meet him. Instead, he sees Sam suited up, wing pack on his back, gloves on, looking through one of their many folders they’ve filled up with theories of the infection and safe spots and danger zones and everything else.

Bucky frowns, looks at him in silence for a moment. Maybe he’ll try a joke, “Going somewhere?”

His friend hums without looking, “I’m going to catch Steve.”

Sorry, what? What the fuck?

Sam did not just say what he thinks he said. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

This is why he blinks in disbelief, for the first time rendered speechless by the other man. Sam looks up at him, face glazed over by determination and confusion by his own reaction, most like. Then, worry overtakes his usually warm, deep brown eyes, ones that he could drown himself in and never come out of.

“You okay, Bucky?” he asks, and Bucky clenches his jaw.

“You’re going to… catch him,” he says, a statement rather than a question. It’s Sam’s turn to frown, but he nods.

“Yes. Catch him and bring him back.”

“You’re joking,” he laughs in sheer denial, but the seriousness in his friend’s face is scaring him, “Sam… tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Oh, this is just not happening. This world lets him fall in love with the most perfect person he knows and then lets that very same person be so fucking stupid?

Bucky can’t let him go. Bucky can’t lose him.

“What, then?” he asks, one hand on his hip, “Invite him over and let him eat our brains, just like that?”

“ Bucky. We’re going to catch him, and then we’ll cure him.”

He laughs, loudly. Okay, this is just hilarious. Sam Wilson is the most perfect person in this world exactly because of this- because he believes this world is still able to be saved. Because he believes it’s worth saving . Fucking hell.

“You found a cure you’re not telling me about?”

Sam sighs, scratching his chin, “Come on, Buck. I talked to Hope-”

“Who?”

“Hope Van Dyne. The Wasp,” the shorter man explains, “She lost her parents, and Scott Lang, remember?”

Bucky shrugs, but nods.

“Well, she’s been recruiting those of us who survived. Who’s left. And she thinks there might be a way to reverse the virus, her father brought it from the, uh… Quantum Realm.” Sam’s about to hand him one of the folders, but he crosses his arms, and shakes his head, then.

God, Bucky’s well aware how stubborn he is. Sam has told him plenty of times.

But he’ll be damned if he lets the man go just like that. He’s not letting him get hurt.

“That’s not happening,” he says shortly. His friend’s frown deepens.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going after that thing.”

The man turns to him completely, wide-eyed and shock written all over his features. “ That thing? ” he huffs, “That thing is our friend.”

“Not anymore, Sam. I’m not letting you get yourself killed by the undead.”

“He’s not dead,” Sam says. His voice raised. He looks- he doesn't look soft anymore. There’s no trace of that smile that gives Bucky shivers down his spine. He looks… upset. He’s upset. Fucking shit.

Why can’t he- fuck , can he not try to be a fucking hero right now? That’s why Steve’s gone. Why can’t he see that?

“You’re being irrational,” Bucky tells him, feeling the anger rise within him, this is not how it was supposed to go, stay with me-

“Oh, I’m being irrational?” Sam laughs, sarcasm evident in his voice, “There might be a cure. We might get Steve back, Buck. And I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know, but-”

“But, what?” he sighs, again. The irritation is flowing between them, Bucky’s freaking out, and above all, Sam looks… he looks disappointed.

This is the worst he’s felt in his whole fucking life. He can’t disappoint the only person that matters to him. Yet he did.

“What if Hope’s wrong, Sam? It’s pointless, most of the population’s infected anyway, it would take forever to get everyone-”

“You’ve got that little faith in me?”

No. No no no. Sam, no. I love you. I love you so much it pains me to see you like this, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t-

“We’ve lost too many, Sam!” he finds himself yelling, none of the words scrambled in his brain making it out. He’s the most stupid of them, obviously, not that he wasn’t aware. “I know you believe these people can be saved, and your hope is incredible, but can you please… not go?”

“I’m an Avenger, Bucky. It’s what I do. It’s what Steve did.”

“It’s what got Steve turned.”

This seems to be something Sam has to ponder over, because a rather uncomfortable silence settles between them. His friend’s eyes soften somewhat, but his teeth are still gritted, as are his own. Would be inappropriate to confess his undying love to the other man now, wouldn’t it?

“I do believe they can be saved,” his friend eventually speaks up, “I believe that because I need to. I lost my parents, Sarah, Steve, Natasha. I have to try.”

See, that makes sense. Another reason why Bucky fucking loves him and wants to kiss his stupid fucking face and beg him not to go. But he doesn’t.

“It’s too risky, Sam, it’s not safe.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.”

Bucky holds in a whine, embarrassing, desperate , “I know you can! You’re a fucking hero. You’re one of the best, Sam, you are. I wish I was that brave, I just-”

“Then why won’t you let me do this?” his friend asks in frustration, “Why won’t you let me try?”

I can’t lose you. “Because I lo-”

The words are interrupted by a loud bang. Sam closes his mouth immediately, tight-lipped. Bucky’s mouth hangs open, voice disappearing. Another bang. Then a moan reaches them from somewhere far away.

Their eyes widen in synchron as they look at each other, eye contact unwavering. They both know what that sound means.

Someone’s coming in. Someone not human.

Whatever’s found them, it’s on the roof, and it’s trying its hardest to get in, so Bucky’s got to shut his mind off and get ready.

Not only is he stupid enough to start a fight with Sam, they also get discovered by one of the zombies. Fan-fucking-tastic. They run to opposite ends of the safehouse, trying to locate exactly where the intruder’s at.

Bucky follows the sound into the hallway, past the bathroom, while Sam stays behind in the kitchen, machine gun pointed at the ceiling. He could not have picked a worse time to speak his feelings than today, could he? Well done, James.

And as if this day isn’t already bad enough, he can’t hear the groaning from the roof anymore.

“Sam!” he yells, because it doesn’t matter if the brain-eater hears them, “I lost it.”

“I hear them,” his friend yells back, prompting Bucky to make his way back, adrenaline pumping, feeling the sweat running down his back, “They’re on- Bucky! Buck-”

A crash. The biggest fucking crash he’s ever heard. Silence.

No.

“Sam?!”

“I’m here,” he hears the other man’s coughing, “It’s Steve. It’s Steve! Steve, hey, okay, now stay right there-”

Bucky’s officially panicking. This is not happening. It’s not .

He’s running so fast he stumbles over his own feet. At the same time, he feels as if he’s frozen on the spot. He’s not sure what’s real anymore.

“Sam, I’m coming-”

Sam screams . And Bucky’s heart is torn out of his chest and smashed onto the floor.

It’s the most earth shattering scream Bucky’s ever heard. It reaches him and goes inside every bone in his body and clouds his vision and makes him want to scream in anger. Sam. Sam. Sam. I need him. I need you.

Yet, when he reaches the living room, he sees nothing at first but rubble and smoke. The roof’s broken down. And in the middle of it, a figure is huddled over another lying on the floor, eerily still.

No. This isn’t real.

He might even convince himself he’s dreaming, he really might, because his vision is still clouded, and his teeth are still gritted so hard he bites the inside of his cheek, until the figure turns around and he’s met with a familiar face.

Steve Rogers.

But it isn’t his Steve, it could never be, because this Steve? This one’s a walking corpse. Sickly pale skin and blood between his teeth and red eyes looking back at Bucky with no memory or remorse. And on the floor-

On the floor… on the floor- He can’t be. He’s- Sam is- Sam .

“Sam,” is all Bucky can say, feeling like a broken record. His voice breaks, and the undead fucker in front of him doesn’t move an inch.

Sam is bitten. My Sam. I love you. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I didn’t want you to go, you perfect idiot, I love you-

He’s clutching the machine gun too hard, his knuckles are turning white, but he can’t do anything.

“That’s enough, Steve,” he finds himself addressing him. It doesn’t faze the thing in front of him, but that’s not surprising. It’s not his friend anymore, “Enough.”

Then a moan sounds, but it doesn’t come from Steve’s mouth. The figure on the floor rises, slowly. Sam Wilson. But he isn't his Sam anymore.

Sam looks at him. There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re empty. No warmth, no safety, not anymore.

He’s gone, but he can’t make himself believe it.

The thing that used to be his friend… the man he’s in love with, the man he wanted to spend every day with, every day for the rest of his life, if only he’d let him, that monster that’s destroyed the most beautiful soul on this shitty earth, hollowed him out and taken his body, that monster groans again.

Then, both figures move. The fuckers are moving in one direction, and that’s towards him.

They’re not fast, Bucky backs away, but his eyes are soon clouded by hot streams of tears running down his face. He can’t hold them back. He can’t control himself. He can’t control anything, not anymore.

So he raises his gun, “Sam,” he whispers, well aware no one’s going to respond, “Sam, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. This is all my-”

He squeezes his eyes shut, ready to fire all the ammo he’s got into his two undead friends, but he opens them again, looks back at them. They’re hungry. They’re still moving.

Bucky can’t breathe.

He wipes at his tears angrily, looking back and forth between those two dead fuckers and hovers his finger over the trigger, but he can’t… he can’t. He only realises in this second. He can’t shoot.

They’re not themselves anymore , he reminds himself. They’re gone.

But Sam’s warm voice full of peace and sunshine and lazy laughter and fleeting, shy touching of hands pops up in his head. That thing is our friend. He’s not dead. Those things are your best friend and the love of your life, James.

The zombies keep coming closer and Bucky bites his tongue.

“Shit.”

He lowers his gun, and because he doesn’t know what else to do, he knocks over the coffee table, then the TV, then the potted plant that Sam loves- loved so much, and runs as fast as he can, not looking back. He hears more crashes, the distraction hopefully successful, but doesn’t slow down.

Bucky escapes out the back door, jumps in the car and pushes the speeder.

Sam Wilson, I’m so in love with you, I can’t think about anything else. You’re the only one for me. I love you. And now you’re gone because of me. I didn’t get to tell you.

He doesn’t know what to do, or where he’s going, except- he needs to find Hope Van Dyne. He has to.

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olivemac · 3 years

Text

heartbeat | chapter seven | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | mild angst, coarse language, oral sex (m receiving), smut (m/f), 18+ ONLY

Citation | Russo, J., & Russo, A. (2016). Captain America: Civil War. Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

A/N #1: The end is here. Let me know what you think. I'm considering continuing this through TFATWS, but we'll see what time allows.

A/N #2: Very, very minor spoiler (reference) for TFATWS episode 4.

master list | AO3 link

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prev chapter

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T'Challa contacts Steve to tell him of Zemo's arrest and to offer refuge in Wakanda for a while.

"He also says they may be able to remove the Winter Soldier programming from your head, Buck," Steve tells Bucky and Kate.

Bucky looks almost hopeful, if not a little uncertain. Kate reaches over and takes his hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. It's the first real interaction they've had since she cleaned his wounds when they boarded the Quinjet, and, as much as he hates to admit it, her touch makes his heart flutter. He just wishes she'd talk to him, tell him what she's thinking. Instead, she drops his hand and makes herself busy cleaning up medical supplies.

Steve sets the coordinates for Wakanda, and Kate keeps her distance from Bucky for the rest of the flight.

_____

Wakanda is more beautiful than Kate, Bucky, or Steve ever could have imagined. T'Challa greets them as they descend the Quinjet ramp and leads them into the palace.

"Tonight, you will eat and rest, and tomorrow we will see what we can do for your friend," T'Challa says, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

_____

When Kate emerges from the shower, there are clean clothes and a plate of food in the room she's been given. She changes and eats, and then lays on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to think about Tony hitting her with that stunning blast. She struggles to block out the ache in her chest that forms when she remembers the mixture of rage and grief on his face, but soon hot tears are rolling down her cheeks. She lays there for a while, crying until she’s sure she doesn’t have any tears left.

She can't remember the last time she felt so unmoored. For the last two years, her almost sole focus has been Bucky. First, finding him. Then...she shakes her head, loving him.What a fucking cliche, she thinks, falling in love with the ex-assassin who killed her parents. But she can't help that being away from him hurts more than the knowledge that he was there that night in December because she knows it wasn't him, it wasn't Bucky. HYDRA took everything from her. He was just the weapon they used.

Kate wipes her face and gets to her feet. Without another thought, she's in the hallway and knocking on Bucky's door. The urge to see him is overwhelming.

When Bucky opens the door, Kate's on him before he can fully process that she’s there, her arms around his neck and her lips on his. It takes a moment for the shock to wear off, but then he’s kissing her back, pulling her into him with his one good arm and letting the door close behind them.

Kate’s hands are hot on his chest, pushing his borrowed undershirt up until he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. She does the same with her own tank. When her shirt is off, she moves to kiss him again, but Bucky takes her chin in his hand and looks into her eyes. Her pupils are blown wide, and her heartbeat is frantic. Kate's ferocious in her need for him, and it makes his heart swell with pride.

He drops his hand from her face and hooks his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him again and kissing her soundly. Kate's fingers tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, and Bucky pushes them down his legs, along with his boxers, before helping her out of her own pants and underwear. She sinks to her knees in front of him and places a trail of kisses across his right hipbone, then the left. She moves her lips hotly across the thick shaft of his cock and runs her tongue over the vein that stretches from base to tip.

When Kate takes him fully into her mouth, Bucky lets out a groan so deep he thinks he can feel it reverberating in his toes. She works her mouth over him a few times before Bucky's hand caresses her cheek and guides her off his cock with a slick pop. He pulls Kate to her feet and kisses her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. They stumble to the bed, and Bucky lets himself fall backward, bringing Kate with him. She slides down the length of his cock so slowly he thinks he might combust, and when she sets a brutal pace, her thighs squeezing against his hips, Bucky's toes curl, and he has to take deep breaths to stop himself from coming too soon.

Watching Kate over him like this, watching her breasts bounce with each of his upward thrusts and her fingers dance over the place where they're joined, Bucky thinks this is the closest thing to salvation he might ever have. She comes quickly, clenching around him and falling forward onto his chest. Kate places a series of kisses across his scarred left shoulder. The Wakandan medical team removed what was left of the damaged arm and sealed his shoulder with a cap. But Bucky isn't thinking of his lost arm right now; he's only thinking of the fire in his belly that is catching, spreading down his legs and up his chest as he keeps rutting up into Kate's body. She pushes herself up again, leaning her hands on his chest and works him through his own pleasure.

Bucky comes with a roar and clasps Kate's body against his own. She presses wet kisses against his neck as they both catch their breaths, and when she lifts her head to look him in the eye, she's smiling brightly.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," he returns.

She kisses him again, slowly this time.

"I love you," she says, her fingers grazing his stubbled cheek.

"I love you, too," he replies, "and God, Kate, I'm so sorry."

She watches him for a moment, her eyes moving over his face, before she says, "I know," and kisses him once more.

They settle across the pillows in the bed, Bucky on his back and Kate resting her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm.

"I spoke to Shuri earlier," she tells him. "She seems optimistic that she can remove the Winter Soldier programming. But it might take some time. She suggested you go back into cryo while she studies your brain scans."

Bucky is quiet for a moment, then says, "I spent seventy years in and out of cryo, what's a few more?"

"I'll be here when you wake up," Kate tells him. "Whenever you're ready to see me."

"You sure, doll?" Bucky asks, looking at her, trying to find any apprehension in her eyes. He's giving her an out, a chance to walk away, but she won't take it.

"Always," Kate says, smiling. "I told you I love you, Bucky, just you. And whatever happened while you were the Winter Soldier, that's in the past. Zemo wanted to tear the Avengers apart with that tape, and he might have succeeded. Steve lost half the team, I've lost Tony, but...” she pauses, “I don't want to lose you."

“You won’t,” he promises, and he kisses the top of her head before they both fall asleep.

He wakes her up in the middle of the night to make love to her twice more because he can't believe she's here, in his arms, after everything, and he isn't sure what tomorrow will bring.

_____

The next morning Steve greets him in the hallway outside their rooms, and Bucky nearly chokes when Steve claps him on the shoulder and whispers conspiratorially, “Sounded like Kate forgave you last night.”

“Watch it, punk,” Bucky says, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Just like old times. James Bucky Barnes gets the girl,” Steve laughs.

Bucky rolls his eyes, but secretly he likes that Steve still sees some of the pre-HYDRA Bucky in him.

Kate is already in the lab when they arrive, laughing with Shuri about something. She smiles at them both and takes Bucky’s hand in her own while Shuri goes over her plan for deprogramming.

When everything is prepped, Steve asks Bucky, "You sure about this?"

Bucky smiles softly. "I can't trust my own mind," he says. "So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing...for everybody."

As the cryo chamber fills, Bucky focuses on the sound of Kate’s heartbeat just a few feet away. He wants that to be the last thing he hears before he goes to sleep and the first thing he remembers when he wakes up.

_____

Once Bucky is in cryo and they've thanked T'Challa and Shuri, Kate follows Steve to the Quinjet.

"You're going to get the rest of the team out, aren't you?" Kate asks, looking at Steve.

"I am," he says.

"You'll probably need someone who can hack into the prison security system," Kate tells him.

"I probably will," Steve says, smiling.

_____

Ten months pass quickly when you spend most of that time frozen. For Bucky, the haze of cryo is punctuated by brief stints of lucidness, followed by Shuri plucking the remnants of HYDRA from his brain. Wake up, remove some programming, back in cryo.

“It’s a gradual process,” Shuri explains.

When Ayo takes him to the woods and repeats the words to him – the words that controlled so much of his life – Bucky tries to remember the sound of Kate's heartbeat and the feel of her hand in his.

One morning, after he's completely freed from HYDRA, Shuri greets him as she always does, "Good morning, Sergeant Barnes."

"Bucky," he tells her again.

Shuri smiles. This routine has been going on for two weeks now, but Bucky likes it, likes the familiarity of it all, the sense of calm it gives him.

"There's someone here to see you," Shuri says, nodding over her shoulder.

Bucky turns to see Kate standing in the light of the early morning sun, looking as beautiful as he remembers.

"Hey, soldier," she says, smiling at him.

"Kate," he breathes. He takes three long strides to her and wraps his right arm around her tightly, lifting her off the ground. She gasps and laughs, and when he puts her down again, she kisses him deeply, letting him sweep his tongue into her mouth, her hands cupping his face gently.

When he pulls away from her, he keeps his arm wrapped around her and her body pressed against his so he can feel her heartbeat next to his own, where it belongs.

_____

Fin.

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Lost Scene: The Club

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

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retroateez · 4 years

Text

bandit king - s.mingi

hello!!! literally nobody wanted this but i’ve written it anyway and actually?? i quite enjoyed writing a character like this. i hope you enjoy! if you do, please like or any other way of letting me know!

// Apocalypse!AU Borderlands x Ateez AU Bandit King!Mingi x Vault Hunter!Reader I guess this is kind of??? angst // I’ve tried my best to write a gender neutral reader, but if i’ve slipped up anywhere please tell me and i’ll change it ASAP. Warnings; mentions of blood, death (murder), guns, graphic descriptions of violence and explicit language. if i’ve missed anything that may potentially be triggering, please message me and i will add it to this list. wc;4642

“Strip the flesh! Salt the wound!”

You aim your radiated Maliwan shotgun at the psycho who was hurtling towards you, screeching nonsense at the top of his lungs. Without blinking an eye, you pull the trigger and watch the shell plunge into his chest, knocking him to the floor in an instant. You lower your gun, and stand frozen in your position.

Wait for it…

His skinny frame is launched thirty meters into the air with an explosion that leaves your ears ringing. A toxic, mustard-coloured cloud trails after him as he flies upwards, then rolls over his corpse when he lands with a dull thump.

You had always favoured Maliwan’s range of elemental shotguns.

With a sigh, you sling the gun into its holster on your back, and step over the dead psycho with a small smirk.

One down, plenty more to go.

-----

Tracking the Bandit King had proven much more of a challenge than your contractor had initially let on. Bringing you from your home planet to the run-down, wasteland named Pandora, you’d travelled far and wide looking for them. Rife with rival gun manufacturers, various bandit clans and ‘ordinary’ civilians just trying to survive, your particular maniac could be anywhere. You didn’t know much about him except for his name; Inferno. It was a stupid name, for an equally stupid leader of a stupid bandit gang, but you were promised a substantial amount of pay for his murder, so he could call himself whatever he wanted; he would be dead soon.

However, the night was quickly approaching, and you’d been driving through the dusty Pandoran plains for far too long, so you pull up to the next bar you come across. You park your sandy brown Outrunner to the left of the tavern and walk towards the entrance.

‘The Blood Bucket’ flickers in a blinding, neon purple above the crimson stained double doors. A fine establishment for some fine patronage, you presume.

With a kick of your steel-toed boot, the doors swing open and a hush falls over the customers almost immediately; it’s not everyday they witness a vault hunter so out in the open.

“Ain’t no vault here, you scumbag!” a hoarse voice calls out from the crowd of drunks, and the rest of them break out into laughter.

You reach down and slightly withdraw your Vladof pistol from your hip, the crowd falling silent once more as you inch it out of it’s holster and clutch it in your hand. All eyes are on you as you approach the bar, and although you’re used to the staring and scowling from random people, it’ll always make you nervous. Not that you would ever show weakness, as a vault hunter, you’d sooner die than let anyone believe they had an advantage over you.

“A bed for the night?” You ask the bartender, although it comes out more as a demand than a question.

You can see by the way his lip curls up in disgust that he isn’t best pleased about having you, a murderer, thief and all-round terrible person who galivants across the galaxy facading as a hero, standing before him in his bar. But he knows how ruthless vault hunters are, how cold-hearted they can be and he’s aware that you can put a bullet between his eyes quicker than he can say “skin pizza”.

So he reluctantly points to his right, indicating to a set of rickety looking stairs, to which you assume the rooms are. You nod in thanks and make your way over to the steps, ignoring the glares from everyone else in the bar. Hurrying up them, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and unclench your fists from their stiff positions by your side. The tensest parts of these contracts were never committing the murder itself, it was always the journey getting there that made you anxious to your core.

Admittedly, you’d grown accustomed to your lifestyle, even if you had no choice. It was a dog-eat-dog universe, and you’d built yourself into a powerful lone wolf. Yet there were always bigger beasts out there, no matter how hard you trained or how many people you killed. It would probably never be enough, but for the time being, you had no other choice; you had to slaughter, or run the risk of being slaughtered yourself.

-----

The next morning, you wake early and wash the dried blood out of your hair from the day before. You sit on the (surprisingly comfortable) bed and pull out the contractor’s instructions from your bag. Skimming over the pages for the millionth time, you study Inferno’s face one more time.

You’d been hired to take out countless enemies for countless rich idiots, but there was something different about him, and you hated to admit it; but he was ridiculously handsome. One of the documents given to you was an old, faded ‘wanted’ poster, featuring a photograph of the bandit king himself. Judging by the photo’s setup, you guessed it was a mugshot of sorts, as Inferno is standing, facing the camera and holding a sign. Typically, there would be a name written on the board that the criminals hold, but this one has been scratched out, presumably to hide his identity. Whoever crossed that name out, wants Inferno’s real name kept quiet. You can relate though; you don’t go by your real name either. Nicknames are so much safer to use, especially on this wasteland of a planet.

You stare down into his hooded eyes in the photograph, responding to his stagnant smirk with a frown of your own. The height markers behind him indicate a healthy six feet and you wonder how somebody so good-looking managed to become the crazed ruler of a bunch of lunatics. You imagine his wildly curly hair is an obnoxious red, the blood spatters on your documents covering the sepia tones of the photo and giving him quite a nice hair colour.

The longer you inspect his face, the more and more you start to feel for him. It’s a foreign feeling, sympathy. You don’t like it. You hate that you think he could’ve become more, become something better than a murderous clan leader. Because this mugshot is clearly old, from a time before he was totally corrupted by blood-lust and greed. From before he could solve anything and everything with the pull of a trigger. And you realise it’s because this young, up-and-coming bandit king in the photograph reminds you of yourself. Before you were forced into fending for yourself and transforming into somebody deep down you were ashamed of, but realistically you had no choice. And it was likely that your next victim had no choice either. Nobody did. Not on Pandora. Not anywhere.

Abruptly, you stuff the documents deep inside your backpack and then haul it over your shoulders. Grabbing your shotgun and pistol and hiding them inside their holsters, you feel that same rush flood over you as it does everytime you pick up a gun. It’s similar to an unwavering calmness, a complete opposite to how any other ordinary person would be if they were to clutch a huge Maliwan shotgun to their chest. You pick up the new, DAHL SMG that’s leaning by the door and twist it around in your hands. Aptly named ‘Night Hawkin’, it switches from shooting pyro bullets to cryo (ice) bullets depending on the time of day, and you figure that Inferno is the perfect test-subject for your new toy.

Once you’ve gathered your few belongings, you march downstairs to pay the innkeeper.

“Five Eridium bars?!” you snap. “You didn’t say anything about Eridium fees.”

The innkeeper raises his smug little face at you and you resist all urges to pistol whip him across the room.

“I figured a vault hunter like you would have no trouble paying up,” he spits. “After all, you like to gloat about how much you rob from those vaults, right?”

“Two bars.” you bargain. He’s right, truthfully. You do have the money, more than enough actually, to pay him the full five, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Four bars,” he pauses for a second and eyes you from his side of the bar. “Four, and I’ll tell you where your bandit lover-boy is.”

You freeze. How did he know-

“You don’t think I check on the people who stay here?” his smirk grows and you realise he’s got you in the palm of his hand. He has information that, providing he was telling you the truth, could be extremely helpful. You’re also pretty bewildered that he went through your things while you were sleeping too, but now is not the time to unravel all of that.

“Fine.” you grumble. “But information first, payment second.”

The barkeep fixes his gaze on you for a few moments before crossing his arms and leaning forwards. He lowers his voice, despite the bar being relatively empty.

“You’ll find him at The Devil’s Footstool,” he mumbles. “Just north of The Salt Flats.”

“I thought that was Hyperion territory?” you question. Hyperion, one of the most influential weapon manufacturers and businesses this side of the galaxy had reign over the majority of Pandora. Naturally, you despised Hyperion and everything they stood for; a corrupt, power-driven company who stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. Butchering thousands of innocent lives for their own benefit. You loathed Hyperion.

The innkeeper shrugs.

“Inferno and his bandit followers waltzed in not so long ago like they owned the place,” he explained. “Not Hyperion anymore.”

You nodded, opting not to say anything else. Reaching into your bag, you pull out the four violet bars and hand them over to the innkeeper, unimpressed at having to fork out such a ridiculous amount.

It didn’t matter though, because the information he had just given you could save you days, even weeks in completing the contract. Even if it turned out he was lying out of his ass, you might still be able to find something at The Devil’s Footstool regardless. If not, you knew where he lived, and there was a brand-new shotgun with his name on it that you were just itching to try out.

You sling the backpack over your shoulder again, mumble a ‘thank you’ to the barkeep and make your exit. Jumping into the driver’s seat of your vehicle, and heaving the bag into the passenger seat, you prepare yourself for the endless journey through the boiling heat and dust. You hated it here.

-----

Five hours later, you finally arrive at your destination; The Salt Flats. Stocking up before embarking on tracking Inferno down for the final time was a very good idea, so you pulled into a small town just on the outskirts of The Salt Flats. You’d be in luck if the inhabitants (if there were any) weren’t hostile, but you weren’t planning on staying long. Luckily, you manage to find a nearby ammunitions vending machine, so you spend a good fifteen minutes buying shells, bullets, grenades, anything you think you might need to send Inferno’s cult of weirdos sprawling.

Also, what kind of dumbass name was Inferno?

There were so many crazy individuals spread across the planet but you’d never get over some of the stupid names they chose for themselves. One of the most absurd characters being King Wee Wee, a bandit lord in New Haven. You’d yet to find anyone dumber than him. But on Pandora, you’d probably find them soon enough.

Shaking your head and double-checking your bag is tightly secured, you throw it into the back of the Outrunner. But before you can jump into the driver’s seat, you freeze.

You squint into the distance, almost as if blinding yourself momentarily will make your hearing clearer. And somehow it works, the faint sound of rushing footsteps nearing closer and closer. The grunting and wheezy breaths immediately signal out to you; there’s a psycho nearby. And he’s not happy that you’re here.

The slim, weirdly ripped frame whips around the corner, bolting out from behind an abandoned car. His mask covers his entire face, and you’ve dealt with psychos millions of times before, but the blank, expressionless masks always chilled you to the bone.

“You’re gonna be my new meat bicycle!” he screeches at you, before hurling himself over the hood of the car and sprinting full-speed towards you, waving some sort of nailed bat above his head.

Instinctively, you withdraw your pistol and before you can even blink, there’s a deafening bang! and the hideous screaming stops, leaving the psycho as nothing more than a bloody, crumpled heap on the dirty ground. Catchihg your breath, you watch the pool of crimson seep across the earth below your feet, and put the pistol back by your hip. No matter how quick your reflexes were, psychos would always manage to scare the living shit out of you. It was their odd, unsettling catchphrases more than anything. They stuck to wild, close-range combat, so anybody with a gun would easily defeat one. But when they threaten to turn your face into pepperoni? That’s when you’re caught off guard.

You hop into your car, turning the engine and pressing on the gas as hard as you can. Eager to get out of this town in fear of what else might come barreling around corners and out of alleyways.

Yet it’s in your haste that you fail to see the tattoo inked onto the psycho’s body. You overlook the dark outline of the bursting flames on his torso, something you’ll end up wishing you hadn’t missed.

-----

Crouching behind a semi-blown up road-block, you’re just outside of Inferno’s compound. After scouting the area, you were certain that nobody was patrolling the areas outside. You wondered how Inferno had managed to seize The Devil’s Footstool from Hyperion. The central focus of the area was a massive arena, where you assumed Hyperion personnel would train. What did Inferno want with a fighting arena?

It was suspicious too, how there was not another living soul out here with you. You supposed that maybe there was a meeting going on inside the building attached to the stadium, one where literally everybody had to present for? Although psychos could barely tell apart their own limbs from hotdogs, so if there was an important gathering, it’s unlikely they’d be invited.

Still, you keep your guard up, head down and make your way towards the building. As you gain on the entrance, you hear the roaring of engines rise up into the air; there must be a race in the arena. But the track is behind the main building, and you can’t see or access it from here. So the only option is to go through the building.

With one hand clutching your pistol, you slope around the left of the building, deciding that going through the front doors would be stupidly reckless, instead looking for a side door. Alternatively, you locate a window, which conveniently is already open. You peer inside, scanning what appears to be a study or an office, with nothing but a wooden desk and a chair in the middle.

You should’ve sensed that something was off because of how empty the room was; offices should have shelves, plants, bits of paper everywhere, right?

However, you think nothing of it, continuing to hoist the window up and combat roll into the room. You stand up immediately, about to reach behind you and grab the shotgun slung across your back but suddenly, an arm flies in front of you, wrapping around your throat with your chin buried in the crevice of their elbow. You dig your nails into their forearm, your vision firmly planted onto the tattoo shaped like a burst of flames on his arm. Caught off guard, you don’t make the connection in your head between the tattoo and the obvious.

“Hello,” a deep voice purrs into your ear, causing goosebumps across your entire body. “I’ve been expecting you.”

-----

The barrel of his assault rifle presses painfully against your spine, and his bicep is squeezing against your jugular so hard you think you might pass out. You bite your bottom lip harshly to stay quiet, and to ground yourself. Panicking now is the last thing you want.

“It’s not everyday a vault hunter comes tumbling through my office window.” you feel him smirk against your ear and you curse yourself for not checking the room properly.

“Where’s Inferno?” you demand. “I have business with him.”

“Business?” he echoes, easing his grip on your neck a little, but still restricting almost all of your movement. “Are you sure? I don’t recall him having any business to attend to today.”

You attempt to twist your head around to look at him, but he catches your chin in his hand which thankfully, removes the pressure from your neck. But now he’s tightly gripping your face and you can feel his fingers press against your teeth through your cheek.

“Tsk tsk,” he reprimands you, tutting into your hair. “Face forward. If you agree to behave, I’ll take you to Inferno and you can handle this so-called ‘business’”.

Nodding, (or at least, as best as you can with his vice-grip on your jaw), you agree. The gun is still prodding into your spine, and with the way he’s towering over you, there’s no way you could possibly escape from this.

So you allow him to march you through the building, reverting back to having his forearm basically crush your windpipe, causing you both to shuffle awkwardly through the hallways. He leads you up three flights of stairs, multiple twists and turns, (the building definitely didn’t look this big from the outside), until he bustles you into a random room at the end of another, identical hallway.

Only when you’re inside and he’s checked the door is locked, does he retract his grip and move away.

You swivel around the second he lets go, retrieving the pistol and aiming it out in front of you. The sight before you shocks you to your stomach, and you almost drop the small firearm.

Inferno himself is standing right there, the smuggest grin on his stupid face. His eyes are hooded, yet still sparkling mischievously with his gaze fixed directly on you. Taller than you thought he was too, you have to look up a fair amount to meet his stare. He has a sharp, narrow nose that suits the rest of his face and a few, prominent freckles splattered over his cheeks like blood. What strikes you the most is his hair. Curly, wild, and obnoxiously red. So the blood on the paper was right.

“Hi, darling.” he drawls. “Expecting somebody else?”

He’s rolling the Night Hawkin submachine gun in his hands, inspecting it from the stock to the magazine with an impressed pout. He flicks the manual switch between pyro ammunition and cryo, and chuckles shortly at the icy bullets.

“Nice weapon,” he compliments you. “Let me guess, DAHL? Those bastards love to make guns that make my life difficult.”

His playful tone irks you, and you scowl angrily at him. Not only has he stolen your brand-new weapon, he’s playing mind games with you. It’s just a shame that you’re playing yourself right into his hands. Inferno raises an eyebrow at your silence.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teases. “That’s okay, I’ll do the talking.”

Making no reply, you keep your pistol aimed at him, thanking the gods that your arms aren’t trembling the same way your breath is.

He paces around the room, slowly making a circle around you and you’re forced to spin on the spot to keep your gun aimed at his head. He’s still smirking, even as he begins to speak.

“You’re here to kill me, correct?” he nods in acknowledgment as you confirm that yes, you are in fact here to murder him. “I thought so.”

“You see, I have a slight problem with that,” he continues, strolling over to the window and glancing at the blazing sun outside. “It’s beautiful weather outside today, and I’d really prefer not to die and miss out on topping up my tan.”

What?

You don’t even know how to reply to that, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity to do so.

“Not only would you be murdering me on a wonderfully hot afternoon, you’d be committing yet another crime against me. And what have I done to you, vault hunter?” he fake pouts, and you catch yourself before you feel sympathy creep back in.

But what did he mean ‘another’ crime? You haven’t met him before now. Murder contracts are nothing personal; you’re simply the messenger.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” he’s in front of you before you can even register his fingers curled underneath your chin, tilting your head up to glare dead into his eyes. The tip of your pistol is pressing into his chest, just right of his heart. Yet he doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“Let me jog your memory.” he murmurs, fanning hot air all over your face.

In an instant, he’s seized your pistol, wrenching it from your hold and spun you around so your back is leaning against his chest. You can feel his jaw resting on the top of your head, and the way he moves round to your right, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear like before.

“Not so long ago, I believe you had an encounter with a very good friend of mine.” husky voice eerily calm, you hate to admit that you’re terrified.

You’re used to dealing with the most insane individuals the planet has to offer, but there’s something human in him. Something so raw that it’s thrown you completely off balance. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could have prepared you for a bandit king who wasn’t completely crazy. For someone who reminded you of yourself, somebody who was trying to survive in this barren, apocalyptic wasteland, albeit through entirely immoral means.

“My friend is dead now, thanks to you.” there’s no bitterness or even anger lacing his words, and you’re conflicted on whether he’s furious or grateful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you exhale, finding your voice eventually.

“Oh? The vault hunter speaks!” he feigns surprise, but the arm you hadn’t even noticed wrapped around your waist squeezes you closer into him.

You truly had no idea what he was on about though. You’d killed a lot of people, although you’d spent the majority of the day driving, so unless you’d accidentally fallen asleep at the wheel and taken part of an unconscious hit and run, you were clueless.

“The town just outside of The Salt Flats,” he snaps, losing his temper with you. You feel his chest rise and fall as he recollects himself, and you wonder how short his fuse must be. “Steve only wanted to show you his new bicycle.”

Bicycle?

“That psycho was your friend?” you blurt out.

“Steve was my second-in-command,” Inferno mumbles into your ear. “And you put a bullet in his head. I don’t appreciate that one little bit, vault hunter.” as he finishes his sentence, he raises his free arm and plants the barrel of your pistol to your forehead, the cold metal a cool change to your burning skin.

“I don’t like it when people mess with my things.” he growls lowly. “I also don’t like having to find new second-in-commands.”

“You’ve got plenty of lunatics to choose from.” you whisper.

“No. I don’t think any of them are fit for the job, you see.” he retorts immediately, barely waiting for you to finish your own sentence.

“Yet how convenient it is,” he carries on. “That there is a new vacancy, just as you break into my office.”

“No, I don’t thi-”

“You don’t think anything, vault hunter,” he interrupts you, his tone getting aggressive and rougher. “I regret to inform you, but you don’t have a fucking choice.” You can tell from the pistol digging into your skin that he isn’t sorry at all, and that he might be right; do you really have much of a choice?

“What do you want from me?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

His clutches weaken ever so slightly, finally allowing oxygen properly into your lungs. It was looking more likely for you to die from lack of breath rather than a bullet to the brain.

“I just told you,” he says. “I want you to be my second-in-command, seeing as you killed my previous one. Think of it as an exchange.”

“An exchange? For what?”

He leans over your shoulder, his cheek pressing against your own as you try to look him in the face.

“Put it this way, you join us, or you die. Does that make sense, Y/N?” he examines your reaction with an ecstatic grin, watching as your face drops and your breach catches in your throat.

How did he know your name?

The panic that shoots through you is immeasurable; nobody is supposed to know your real name. Nobody should know your real name. So how the fuck does this stupid, mind-game playing bandit king who you’ve never met before, know?

Satisfied with your response and knowing you’re putty in his hands, he completely lets go of you, even removing the pistol from between your eyes. You sense him moving away, the space around you turning empty and cold. Part of you wishes, hopes that he’ll put his arms back around you and make you warm again, and the other half of you wants to yank the small ice pick out from your sock and jab it into his eye socket over and over and over again.

You stand in the center of the room, motionless for what seems like an eternity, just thinking. Inferno waits behind you patiently, and you secretly commend him for being the sanest psycho you’ve ever met.

But clearly his patience begins to wear thin, as he comes round to stand in front of you. He bends down to match your height and uses his fingertip to lift your chin up a little, the same way he did previously. His touch is uncharacteristically gentle, a polar opposite to the way he was choking you and harshly grasping you not even five minutes ago.

“So?” he hums. “What do you say?”

Inferno searches your eyes as you mull over your answer. Although, there isn’t much thinking left for you to do; he’s metaphorically backed you into a corner and realistically, you have no escape.

“Fine, I’ll join you,” you rasp, the pressure of his gaze weighing down heavily on you and making you tenfold more nervous.

“Excellent!” he beams, standing up straight and clapping his hands together. “You’ll make a much better second-in-command than a vault hunter-”

“On one condition, I’ll join you.” you interrupt him, and his excited demeanour drops.

His dark eyes bore in yours, and he raises an eyebrow, indicating for you to name the stipulation.

“Tell me your name.” you request. “Your real one.”

“I don’t think you quite understand the power dynamic here, darling.” he scoffs.

“No, I understand perfectly,” you quip. “I just don’t think it’s fair that you know mine, but I don’t know yours.”

You hold your palm out in a mock handshake pose.

“Say the name, and I’m yours.”

“Say my name?” he snorts, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue and turning his head away from you.

Suddenly, his large palm slaps into yours, his long fingers curling around your hand and he performs a strong, steady handshake.

“Mingi.” he says quietly. “You can call me Mingi.”

You smirk, reciprocating the formal shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mingi.”

// if people like this then i already have ideas for a part two... hehe

#ateez #ateez au #borderlands x ateez #apocalypse!ateez #mingi #song mingi #mingi fluff #mingi angst

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cchellacat · 4 years

Text

Anything for Love...

Wintershock: Bucky/Darcy

A/B/O and soulmate

Five of Fifteen

Also prompt response to: @littledarlinhavefaithinme

Protective Bucky

You’ve heard them, right? You’ve all heard the stories of love at first sight, of soul mates. The tales of eyes meeting across crowded rooms, the sudden stillness. The rush of electricity when you bump into them by accident in the street. You’ve heard people tell you the stories your whole life. The way some idiot picks up a phone and answers with some stupid greeting and then there’s a rush of breath and an equally insane response because you’ve just given your first words to your soul mate hundreds, maybe even thousands of miles apart... so you know how this is meant to work, right? Soul Mates. Love at First Sight. The whole nine yards. You meet. You fall. You say your words. You live happily ever after. You know this to be true, right? That’s how it’s meant to work. But what happens when it doesn’t go that way, what do you do when it all goes wrong? What do you do when you meet and the choirs of angels fail to sing? What do you do when the first touch brings pain and fear instead of warmth and love? What do you do when the first words are a threat and the reply a plea? What do you do when happily ever after just doesn’t seem possible?

Darcy had known since she was a kid that there was something wrong with her. Something that made the adults around her worried. Sure they tried their best to be kind to her, to treat her gently. But they couldn’t hide the wary looks, the careful scrutiny, the distrust of nearly every word she said. It was a hard knock life, just like the song said,. Life as an orphan sucked.

By the time Darcy was five and finally able to read the pretty words stained on her skin she’d been cautiously prepared for something bad.... she was not prepared for what it actually said.

“You might have everyone fooled with that sweet little girl act but I see right through it, you want to kill me you’re gonna have to be faster doll, my kill count’s in the triple digits, you’ve barley even started.”

After that Darcy wears long sleeves even in summer to cover the startling words curling around her arm from wrist to shoulder. As the years pass by she finds herself tracing the words over and over. In her heart she grows to love them because it means that out there somewhere is someone made just for her. Someone who will burn fiercely just for her. Someone who will know her better than herself and protect her. No matter how they meet she knows that whoever he is, no one else will ever be able to love her the way he will. Darcy stores every ounce of love she has. He will be cherished and adored by her. Darcy is certain she loves him already. And she will show him she is nothing like he thinks. She’ll be the best soulmate ever.

In a world where everyone had a designated place in society, Darcy’s words stood out and spoke of violence and deception. Everything, an omega like her was meant to be incapable of. She knew now why no one trusted her, why they looked at her like she was broken. Deep down Darcy hardened her heart and lifted her chin defiantly. She wasn’t going to let this change her or break her. She was strong and she would never let herself become something she was not.

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

When Bucky woke from cryo again they shoved him in a shower. It was the same proceedings every time. Shower. Food. Sleep. Then the orders. Sometimes if they were on a schedule they’d go straight for the book and he’d be pushed to the back of his own mind immediately. Over the decades he’d learned to take what little comfort he could in the hour they occasionally allowed him to be human. It’s standing under tepid water with a bar of soap in hand that he sees the words curling between the scars around his shoulder.

“From one psychopath to another, shut the hell up and fuck me already.”

He doesn’t know what to feel in that moment. The words are foreign and harsh. But they’re first words, soul mate words. They hadn’t been there before, this is something new. He traces them carefully a wild and deperate sort of hope blossoming in his heart. It means he’s not alone. That someone out there was created to love him, for him to love and protect. He never imagined having that, he’d thought he would always be alone. They’re not the sort of words he ever imagined having. They’re not the sort of words anyone would want to hear. As an alpha they’re almost insultingly cruel. What sort of horrendous situation was he going to be in where his soulmates first words were so ... unfeeling. Cold. For a moment he wishes he could scrub the words from his skin and forget they existed. Then he remembers the people on the other side of that door and he wants to vomit. No matter who she is, if they see this, they’ll know to be looking for her. And no matter what kind of person she might be, he couldn’t live with himself if he let Hydra know he now had one more weakness. There was now something he could loose before he ever found it. He grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his skin, tearing at the words and scars until blood runs in rivulets down his body. No one can know. Bucky bites back a moan of pain and mutilates himself to the point of serious injury. He doesn’t feel the tranquilliser until his head gets light and his legs loose feeling. Light fades and the rush of cold air and brutal hands carry him off to sleep. He buries the words deep in his mind and allows unconsciousness to claim him. He’s done his best. He’s protected her, who ever she is.

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

23 Years Later...

The cell is narrow and lit dimly. Darcy throws herself into his arms as soon as they push him through the door. Bucky gathers her tightly to him, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he runs his hands over her, checking for injuries and finding far to many. He mutters Russian curses and endearments into her hair, taking comfort in the way her nails dig into him as she sobs into his chest. Nineteen days since he’d seen her last. Four hundred and forty seven agonising hours not knowing If she was alive or dead. Twenty-six thousand, eight hundred and twenty one minutes of mindless fear and rage. One million, six hundred thousand seconds hunting down every lead to find her. To bring him here.

Darcy finally calms, his hand comes up to wipe gently at her tears. He’s bone tired but knows he has to take care of her first and foremost. She’s his responsibility. His soulmate. His Omega. Wordlessly he presses a hand against the slight curve of her belly, his future. He’d been stupid to think he could ignore this or push her away. And now she and the life she carried inside her were paying for his stubbornness. Before he can utter the apologies she deserves or explain himself she grips his metal hand in hers and rests her head on the back of his hand. It’s archaic, the gesture. Something that had gone out of fashion even before his own parents time. A request. One begging for an omega to be heard. One given in desperation when the omega feels they have been unheeded or ignored. Guilt stings his conscience. He hadn’t heard her before, he’d pushed her away, ignored her words and the way she’d relentlessly tried to make him see sense. He places a finger under her chin, tilting her head up till she meets his eyes. She launches into her speech before he can even voice his sorrow and that of course he’ll listen to her.

“Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s... it’s the love. It’s too strong and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried. But I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.”

“Darcy-“

She brought her finger to his lips, eyes imploring him to listen.

“I need you to know it. Really know it, understand that you can’t change my mind. That even if you leave me, give up on us because you think this is all wrong. It won’t change the simple fact that I can’t ever not love you. I won’t bond with anyone else. I’ll spend my life alone. I can’t stomach the thought of anyone else touching me let alone fucking me. Do you understand? I’d rather die than let any other alpha mark me. You’re my soulmate, I’ve loved you from the beginning, even when all we had were angry words and fear, and I’ll love you till the end. I belong to you, my alpha... And you belong to me.”

Bucky drew her close, strong body, sheltering her tiny frame. She shivered from the contact, the heat of his skin searing her through the fabric of her t-shirt. The scent of alpha male filling her nose and making her knees weak. He dropped his head to her shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, the brush of stubble sending goosebumps over her body.

“Bucky...”

He kissed at her neck, lips ghosting against her scent gland, triggering a flood of desire that she stubbornly tried to suppress even as her hands came up to tangle in his hair, holding him there as he began to lick and suck at her skin. Oh she was not going to make it if he kept that up, she wanted to climb him like a tree and this really wasn’t the place to do this... again. Fuck, he felt so good, all that power and strength humming under his skin, the effortless way he held her steady even as she knew he was holding her whole weight . She’d be in a puddle on the floor right now if he weren’t holding her up. His voice is muffled in against her skin but she feels the relief seeping into her bones as he speaks.

“I know Darcy, I do. You think it’s any different for me? I grew up thinking I was a blank... waking up, coming back to myself after everything that happened with Hydra... with you, when I first saw your words curling round my shoulder. Sweetheart, it was the happiest moment i’d had in decades even when it felt like the worst.”

She snuggles into his chest, clinging to him as she listens.

“Then why did you run? Why do you keep avoiding me?”

He breathes deeply, hand cupping her jaw so he can look at her properly. He’d been out of his element with her from the minute he’d come to his senses, finally free of Hydras hold on him. The shock of exchanging words with his soulmate and then mating and bonding with the sweet scented omega had jarred his programming so cleanly he’d been freed from its control. Waking to find himself knot deep inside his tiny mate, soft curves and gentle arms wrapped around him, he’d been too shocked and overwhelmed to really take the time to study her features before instincts kicked in. He had felt the overwhelming threat stuck in that cell, the driving need to protect his mate, to get her far away from the underground base that stank of fear and death. And he had. He’d gotten them both out and ran as far and as fast he could to bring her to safety. Then he’d made the biggest mistake of his life by trying to push her away to protect her from his past.

He strokes a thumb against her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin. In a world full of harshness and pain she represented everything he’d been denied for the better part of a century.

“You made me vulnerable Doll. You’re a weakness. I knew if the wrong people ... when they found out about you, you’d be a target. Not just some omega I mated, my soulmate,and they .... .”

“Oh Bucky.... I... I don’t know how they found out, I swear, I didn’t tell-.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s no ones fault. Or maybe it’s truer to say it’s more mine than yours. I shouldn’t have pushed you away, all it did was hurt us both and now... I’m so sorry they took you sweetheart. I should have protected you better-“

Darcy places her fingers against his lips again, head shaking.

“You did, you did the best you could, I just wish you’d talked to me, it’s not your fault. I think there must have been someone already on the inside at the compound.”

Bucky kisses her fingertips, resting his forehead to hers.

“I know. We found them,”. He pulls her in again, mouth nuzzling into her ear as he cuddles her close, voice dropping to a whisper. “But right now we have to concentrate on getting out of here. I need you to trust me and follow my lead, ok? Just nod if you understand.”

Her head dips twice in recognition, but he feels the way her body tenses in his arms.

“I’ll do whatever I have to to keep you safe Darcy, remember that and that I love you. I promise, I will never leave you again. When I tell you to run, run. If I tell you to close your eyes, you do it. Okay? No questions. I need you to do exactly what I say.” Her whispered acquiesce sends relief flooding through him and he steps back, facing the door of the cell. They think that they have the upper hand, that he can be so easily brought back down. They underestimate just how determined Bucky Barnes is to protect what’s his. No one will ever lay a hand on his mate again.

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

Three days later find them both back in upstate New York. Darcy firmly ensconced in his bed as he brings countless offerings of soft blankets and pillows and enough treats and food to keep them there for at least a week. Darcy revels in the attention. In the soft worlds and sweet kisses. In the gentle touches and comforting hugs. In the desire soaked press of their bodies and the exultant passion of their mating. She’s never felt so singularly special in her life. She knows she is the center of his world, just as he is the center of hers, two celestial bodies trapped in never ended orbit around each other. For the first time in her life she feels safe and knows it to be true. She returns each gesture and word of affection with as many of her own, loving him with every particle of her being. She adores him, her alpha, her soulmate.

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

The news was blowing up as the destruction of the last Hydra base on American soil was touted as a victory for SHEILD and the Avengers. Carefully hidden was the fact that the every hydra operative on the base had been ripped apart in one of the most gruesome massacres of the twenty-first century. By the time the team had breached the perimeter the only two people alive and sane had been Bucky and his mate. No one dared question him on excessive force when they saw the cuts and bruises on Darcy’s skin, neither Steve or Tony could fault the other alpha for the extreme measures taken to secure her safety and freedom, they both would have done the same have their positions been reversed. The cover up was clean and the story sanitised with a little help from Clint and Natasha who had planted explosives in every corner before blowing the whole place to kingdom come. Bucky had only felt a sliver of satisfaction at the smouldering ruin. One lucky Hydra flunky had been spared the devastation. A visceral sort of triumph had wound round his soul as he allowed the shaken and terrified man to leave intact. There would be no more threats coming from that quarter once the unfortunate beta reported back to his masters. The threat was clear. If anyone else dared to lay a hand on his mate they’d suffer far worse than what he’d done to this one base. Hydra never again attempted to take Darcy. It just wasn’t worth the cost.

@southerncross47 @loricameback @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog

#15 tales of love #wintershock #drunk drabble #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #bucky/darcy #a/b/o dynamics

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spacebookettes · 3 years

Text

Fairy on the Xmas Tree

Fairy did all the work, she watched the kids for naughtiness, she made most of the wooden toys, listened to the love life problems of the elves, she did all the lists organising, made sure the elf parties had enough glow sticks, and she organised all the xmas food in the North Pole; you must know, xmas food is all year around in the North Pole: except at xmas, but that’s another story. And who do you think remembers to leave out the super strength indigestion tablets for, you know who, on his return. Fairy organises all the elf rota’s. Fairy sets the spells that scare away the infestations of Axmas Trees. And when all the big build up is over and everyone has a holiday, who do you think clears up the New Christmas Years Eve celebrations. No actually that’s , you know who’s, wife.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Girl

“Girl, how are you feeling now... that third Band Cloud-Reeta should be making you feel better by now"... The Girl’s memory was still very hazy, flashes of childhood upset, embarrassing teen problems and moments of past depression. “Girl, you know it’s always the bad things that come back first.” “Anyways I’ll be with you for most of the first few years. So we’ll work out who you are.”

The Girl had been awake in the future a week and still was utterly disorientated. She had no idea who she was, where she was, what she was or what to do about it. The EMP had wiped out the database of the Cryogenics facility; something left over from the Cryo-terrorists.

“Girl you’ll be feeling like planesoulling soon.” The Girl asked what planesoulling was... “well it’s, the emotion you feel, when your micro spaceship glances off of a solar wind and your vessel is humming and also daydreeing... it’s a lot like, Guuurl, there’s nothing quite like the fear mixed with pure awe... You’ll find out one day. When the migration happens."

The future was pretty, all the surfaces were iridescent and the windows (if you could call them that) were faintly rainbowed..

“Girl, you are far away from Earth... all the cryo sleepers were moved a long time ago... the Cryo-terrorists.” The Girl asked what Earth was. “our home world, but we fled so quickly we are having trouble locating it again.” What’s a world.

The Girl asked why everyone was a different colour than her. “You can change everything in the future. No one has human coloured skin anymore... mine is Sillleevann, very popular.” The girl knew yellow when she saw it, though this particular shade was particularly flattering in it’s greyish sparkling. The Girl believed that a sparkling greyish yellow was a memory that was wholly new: sparkling grey hues she felt were impossible some how: but she kept that to herself.

The Girl asked what is a migration. “well, when we use up all of a stars energy and it’ll be close to going nova, we have to move on to another star. Which takes time and not everyone will fit on the transports so we have to sail our own micro spaceships.” The Girl didn’t understand any of these things.

“There are a lot of people in the future”

The nanobots inside the Girl's brain had constructed some extra features, expanding the Girl’s experience of reality. “Girl, you have to have these augmentations in the future or you’ll never understand anything properly.” A glowing word appeared in the distance just in the Girl’s peripheral vision. “that’s how it starts, the augmentation. Just out of reach so as not to startle you, then one day you’ll be fully up and running and be able to understand your surroundings better... Magical!”

Who were the Cryo-terrorists she asked. But there was an explosion before Gremmille D3 could answer. Gremmille moved behind the Girl, as if to protect itself from the direction of the explosion.

The facility was hidden in a envelope of space-time, inside a kind of hyper reality. Exhaustive of energy, that goes unnoticed until a waning star, energy source, gives things away. “I'm sorry about this Girl, but we are near the start of migration (always a dangerous time), don’t worry I’ll be with you while we make our escape. Priority for you has been made in one of the transports.”

The Girl learned about the great chase. The Cryo-terrorists were in pursuit and there space-time harpoons had caused an early migration. “Girl, the Cryo-terrorists believe you are a devil, any reanimated human is a danger. But our techniques are getting better. Every new batch of cryo sleepers we regenerate are better than the last ones.” “This is your little area, you can see enough of the real world now that you’ll be able to attain anything you need. Not that humans need much in the future. I'll have to take a micro-ship and we’ll meet at the next star.”

The transport hummed the Girl awake. Her little area was large enough to stand in to sleep and sit through the awake times. The nanobots took care of her waste, recycling it. And her nourishment, synthesizing any minerals or H2O she needed. They disposed of any skin grime as well. In fact all a human had to do was sit. On a transport.

The Girl searched the databases for an answer for why, if we are being pursued, why we are trying to find the home world. Surely we are being pursued away from Earth.

“Girl, a wish... one wish from the first cryo sleeper to be revived. To feel Earth grass inbetween her toes. It’s that simple... there's little else to do out here.” The Girl heard a different humming through the communicator; the micro ship had just planesoulled. "Guuurl, this is my grass in the feet.” Gremmille D3 said.

The End

By Peter Stringer

The Young Billionaire

En garde the billionaire called to herself in her imagination. “Shame i don’t like swords, but EN GARDE.”

The Bright City was celebrating Halloween, neon 300 meter pumpkins somewhere deep in the bowels of the city. Someone entered one of the egg shaped taxi pods. It, centrally controlled, floated into the stream of other taxi pods. Flowing through The Bright City on super fast sky highways. It would be a bit of a journey to the edge of the city. A city that was home to billions of people and robots. 30 miles high at it’s borders and much more miles wider.

The taxi pod reached a shaft of sunlight horizontally peaking into the city. And then pure sunlight, clouds, and trees for a far as an augmented human eye could see. Now the egg pod could really be super fast. Clouds blasted past the taxi. A small tower quickly came up to the pod, and it slowed. Coming to rest at ground level just next to the tower. A gothic tower with 4 giant clock faces, a gothic sprawling palace. Surrounded by trees; perfectly preserved in it’s ornate medieval features... next to a brown churning river. The someone exited the pod and sat barefoot on a small patch of grass. She looked up to a gothic window. A holographic ghost from history waved back at her from the other side of the window. The someone smiled. EN GARDE...

The Young Billionaires final project a glint in her eye would take some convincing.. but to preserve a still beautiful planet, leaving it to nature was one option. An option the Billionaire liked the most. All the people’s of earth contained in a gargantuan city. 30 miles high and topped with grass, fields and fields of grass and alpine flowers, many many miles wide. A complex of multi levelled superscrapers reflective so the light reaches down into the depths endlessly cascading off of super reflective surfaces; each superscraper a field of grass on top. But such a feat of engineering would be for others lifetimes... though the massive foundations must be fought for now. Political foundations must be started in a previous lifetime. Many glints in the eyes of the people with Vision, not yet augmented.

Imagine the garden parties.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Alien Food

The UK is the home of Alien Cuisine

The fact that Great Britain is the hub of alien activity, alien Food activity, tells you all you need to know about the state of cuisine in the rest of this half of the galaxy. Galactic visitors have been visiting small towns, villages and cities for a long time. They come for the Yorkshire puddings, the packet gravy and over cooked vegetables. You see Yorkshire Pudding is renowned across half a galaxy as the Food of the Gods and it’s worth stuffing yourself into a flesh bag skin disguise to walk among the humans to eat it in peace.

Alien mothers come across time and space to learn how to make the best Yorkshire puddings from a little older lady, who lives on the moors of North Yorkshire in a little stone two up two down; a little older lady who started a small cooking class a few years back, that is now fully booked until the next 50 millenniums... scores of alien scientists are right now working on a youth elixir to make sure Granny Yorkshire keeps teaching her older ways of making oil roasted batter towers that always rise to the top of the oven and char a little where they touch. Granny Yorkshire also does a roaring trade in expertly mushy vegetables that she sells by the small, over salted, pot.

There is a factory, also in north Yorkshire, that makes the dehydrated gravy elixir (that also goes amazingly well on fries or should I say proper chips) That has recently taken an order for 12000 10kg boxes of the stuff; an order from one oddly named Zurghish Klavlong the 287th.

One intrepid alien once ventured over the sea to France to try their luck with, as the British Used to call it, Foreign Muck. They never returned on the channel tunnel train to France again, disgusted at the use of rich flavours, herbs, spices, cream and real butter!

By Peter Stringer

#xmas story #christmas #creative writing #art #short story #books #fairy #elves #new christmas years eve party #magic #silly #daft #comedy #imagine

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 5 years

Text

Would you sail away tonight? (SteveXReader)

So, I’m kinda new to the tumblr-fic world, but I’ve been reading some and jeez, these are amazing. I’m loving it! And then I got inspiration for a series of one shots. Some of them will be friend-based, others relationships, etc. Basically if it’s a song I can see a particular character being a part of, then I see what I can do with it. This is going to be the first one and we’ll see how it goes from here.

Summary: Various Avenger x Reader one-shots with songs from musicals. In this one — Steve finds himself thinking about an old memory about his best girl (that’s you) and how different life would have been if he’d just taken her up on her offer. (Takes place just after CACW)

Warnings: Fluff, 40′s Steve being precious and stubborn, little bit of the sadness? Also cussing is a thing. None of this “Language!” business.

Word Count: 3,858

Please, don’t post anywhere without my permission. :)

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he found himself thinking about the past. Normally when he did, his thoughts drifted to Bucky. However, those moments became few and far between when the two actually reunited. So why now? Staring at Bucky’s cryo state, he knew why. Because there was a particular Barnes that the two men had left back in the 40’s. Someone he had desperately tried to forget about because it reminded him of one choice he always found himself regretting. One choice that, if done differently, could have actually changed…everything.

“Captain?”

Blinking away unshed tears, Steve looked over his shoulder. There was T’Challa, waiting. Patient as always. It seemed that T’Challa was more understanding of the circumstances than Steve could have ever hoped for. He opened Wakanda to them with open arms. His sister, Shuri, was more than willing to help bring Bucky Barnes back.

But that wasn’t the Barnes he found himself feeling guilty about.

“Is there something on your mind, Captain?” T’Challa stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. There was no forcefulness in the way he spoke. Instead he offered an ear, someone to listen, a shoulder to lean on. It was weird knowing that the king could read him so well, understand those thoughts that not even he fully understood. After watching the Avengers tear themselves apart, he came to terms with the fact that each of these supers had skeletons they were intent on burying. Tony proved that. In fact, there was no doubt in either man’s mind that Tony was wallowing at this very moment. Yet, even with that knowledge, it was clear he wouldn’t let Steve do the same. “Perhaps something about Sergeant Barnes?”

“No, not about him.” He looked back at Bucky, his shoulders tense. The green in his eyes shined a little brighter as he attempted to blink away unshed tears. His best friend was in cryo and looked more peaceful in these moments than he had in any of the time he’d been awake. At least recently.

T’Challa kept himself on the outskirts, knowing he was a man looking in. It seemed this was a window to the past. He wasn’t entirely sure he was supposed to have access to this moment, but still. Shuri had made it clear that it wasn’t only Sergeant Barnes that needed their help. “Then maybe Y/N Barnes?” If he had blinked, he would have missed the way Steve’s jaw clenched. The way his nostrils flared and brow scrunched in the faintest of moments. Because, just as soon as it was there, it was gone.

Your laughter filled his ears as you tried to squirm free. “Stevie, stop it! James, help! Help, please!” You couldn’t stop laughing as Steve’s fingers ran across your sides, tormenting your ribcage. If it weren’t for the fresh baked pie in your hands, you easily could have escaped. Steve was still scrawny after all. But you knew that James would never let you live it down if you destroyed your mother’s pie.

Steve, however, didn’t care. He grinned as he made you laugh, knowing there was no other noise like it. Nothing else could make his heart flutter and not ache at the same time. Normally such a feeling would have him dizzy, but here it was a lightheadedness he would welcome with open arms. He grinned until they spun around, seeing Bucky leaning against the doorway. His smug grin in place, arms crossed, legs crossed at the ankles. He shook his head, scrunching his nose as he said, “If you can’t get away from Steve then I’m afraid to tell you there is no helping you, Y/N.”

“Oh, please!” Steve stopped, grin never wavering as he rest his chin on your shoulder. “She’s my best girl. She could do anything.”

The happy memory didn’t make itself known to T’Challa. On the outside, Steve looked bitter. In pain. His voice was rough as he asked, “How do you know about her?”

“Sergeant Barnes has military files. It’s no secret that he isn’t an only child. My apologies, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t. She’s been on my mind for a while.” More than a while. You had been the first thing he looked into after he woke, thinking he had already known Bucky’s fate at the time. After Bucky had passed, you made it clear that there was nothing tying you two together. Bucky had been it after that night on the pier. There was no changing it. No fixing it. But seeing what you’d done? He couldn’t have been happier for you. You’d married, had children. You moved on and lived a life you deserved. Something he never thought he could give you.

“We could leave, Stevie. You don’t have to join a war to make something of yourself. When Bucky gets back we could —“

“We’ve set up a room for you. If that is something you’re interested in.”

Steve shifted his gaze away from Bucky, offering a smile to the king. He was doing his best and there was no reason for Steve to disrespect that. “Just for the night. I have some friends to help out in the morning,” he explained half heartedly, knowing better than to drag T’Challa into the rest of his plans.

“Take Captain Rogers to his room,” T’Challa instructed as one of the servants stepped inside, bowing her head.

“Captain?”

——————

Hours had passed and still Steve couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He couldn’t bring himself to relax or acknowledge that everything would eventually be okay. It just took steps, right?

“A step in the wrong direction is always better than staying still.”

He smiled, chuckling as that ridiculous phrase popped back into his head. Why you insisted on always telling him that, he never knew. Bucky hated it, insisting that half of Steve’s fights came from your insisting that statement was true.

He still wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to tell Bucky about you. It seemed you weren’t a memory he’d been graced with yet. Steve had planned on reminding him, knowing that was a crucial detail Bucky needed to be aware of, but his friend had insisted on being put under before he’d even gotten the chance to say otherwise. And now he was here. The only one left. The only one allowed to be haunted by the past. By one particular memory — a choice that always drifted back to him. He wondered, was the reason it slipped back because he made the wrong choice? Or because he would’ve preferred another outcome to the hand he’d been dealt?

Steve did his best to keep up with you as the two of you made your way down the pier. It had taken a bit to lose Bucky. After all, you were his little sister and Steve was Steve. He was basically the unassigned bodyguard for the two most important people in his life. “Why did you want to come down here?” Steve asked, panting as he ran a hand through his hair. Stubborn strands fell on his forehead as he looked out to the water. He didn’t understand why you chose this place, but who was he to complain? He was just happy you wanted to be alone with him. After all, you were the one girl in Brooklyn that he didn’t have to compete with Bucky to impress.

“Because Bucky wouldn’t think to come here? Because I like the water?” You look at him, laughing when you see there are a few stubborn strands a little out of place. “Jeez, even your hair doesn’t behave.” You take the two strides to his side, brushing them back into place. Unlike the rest of Steve, his hair cooperates for once.

A faint tint of pink appears on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he shifts his gaze, looking from you to the water just behind. You were right. Late at night this place was something to like. It was beautiful. The stars and moon were visible, reflecting in the mirror-like surface and there were actually no disturbances from the city or the ships. It was calming, actually tranquil. “I would’ve thought you’d want to spend the evening with Buck since he leaves tomorrow.”

“Nah, he’s got that date with Dot. I’d rather not see him shoving his tongue down another girl’s throat at another expo.”

Steve snorted as the two of you sat on a bench. You faced the water, your hands crossed and resting on the rail. He faced towards the pier, your shoulders brushing against one another if either of you readjusted. “Far enough. Can’t say I blame you.”

“He’ll be home soon. I’ll see him then.”

A silence falls. The two of you know that saying something like that didn’t necessarily make it true, but both of you needed Bucky. You had to know he’d come home because a life without him wasn’t an option. A life with no Bucky and no Steve? You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine that. Which was why you had to say, “He told me about your latest attempt to enlist.”

There was no beating around the bush with you. If you didn’t know about something, you always found out about it by the end of the day. You didn’t keep secrets and you called out the bullshit. It was why Steve appreciated your company so much. You were one of those few people that was as painfully honest as Bucky and himself. Still…it didn’t make moments like this pleasant.

“I figured he would.”

“So that meant there was no need to hear it from you?”

Steve sighed, leaning back so that his bony shoulders rest against the wood you propped yourself on. “I didn’t say that.”

“Might as well have.”

“Y/N…”

“No, seriously. I’m curious. Why is this such a thing with you?” You turn to look at him, eyes blazing with a fire that came around only when you were scared. Steve and Bucky were your boys. You loved them both and while Bucky would have had to join at some point or another, Steve didn’t. It was selfish of you, you knew that, but damn it, the idea of getting that letter… You looked away, back to the water.

“I want to help.” The reason was lame, but Steve couldn’t ever fully put it into words why he had to do this.He just felt it in his bones, in his soul.

“Bucky thinks it’s because you have something to prove.” You look down, fiddling with your fingers. Your nerves cause you to tug on your lip, biting at it nervously. It wasn’t often that you showed such feelings, but Steve understood. You were worried.

“He always thinks that.”

“Is he wrong?” Your eyes shift, meeting his. Never had you implied that Steve was weak. You treated him as an equal. Not as someone who needed to be babied or protected. It was one of the reasons the two of you had gotten so close, so quick. It was one of the reasons he liked you so much.

“I think he is.”

You chuckled, shaking your head ever so slightly before looking back at the water. That fear in your eyes seemed determined to stay and all Steve wanted to do was hug you, reassure you that even if he did enlist, he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d come back for you. You wouldn’t be alone. However, the fear in your head was louder than any argument he could put together. The corners of your lips curved into a frown. Your brow furrowed and he knew he couldn’t let you fall into those fearful thoughts. “You two are going to leave me all alone. I won’t even know if you’ll come back.”

Nudging you with his shoulder, he knew how to cheer you up. He hated it, but it was one of the few ways to bring a smile to your lips. So he had to try. “Whenever I was frightened,” he sang softly, his voice wavering. You glance at him briefly, ducking your head before turning your attention back to the water. Nope, it wouldn’t be so easy. He had to know that, right? “If I ever felt alone, I turned to the night sky and the star I called my own.” He nudged you again, this time swinging a leg over the bench. Now facing your shoulder, he tried to catch your gaze. Steve didn’t have the best voice. No, that was the gift you possessed. Between the three of you, you had the voice. Steve could pass for decent. And Bucky? No one was sure if he actually could. His ‘attempts’ were always over dramatic attempts to sound like a wailing dog. “Somewhere I can run to just across the Milky Way. If you like I could take you.”

Finally, a smile graced your lips as you ducked your head, trying to hide behind your hair. But it was too late. He’d already seen it.

“It’s just a light year and a day.”

“Stevie — “

You were always fantastical, believing in fairytales and possibilities because they seemed so much better than reality. They seemed brighter and you were the only person he knew who was capable of carrying that brightness with her. Through everything. Standing up, he stepped onto the bench before taking your hand. He gestured for you to join him. He had to remind you that possibilities were always so much better than reality. “Come on,” he whispered as you joined his side. He gestured out to the water, humming softly as he tried to think of the right words. They needed an escape. At least for the night. “We could sail away tonight? On a sea of pure moonlight,” he murmured, stepping behind you. You seemed to understand what he was trying to do because immediately you swayed from side to side, practically in tune with the music that wasn’t playing. “We can navigate the stars to bring us back home. In a place so far away, we’ll be young. That’s how we’ll stay. Every wish is our command.”

The book you’d been reading lately popped into his head. You loved it. So much as mentioning it made you smile in such a way that it reached your eyes. So, he used that. “We will find ourselves in never…Neverland.”

You giggle, shaking your head. Looking at him over your shoulder, you whisper, “You’re being ridiculous.” But there was hope. He could hear it. You were hopeful that maybe he was right.

Smiling, he spun you out and earned a laugh. Other than moments like that, neither of you really moved your feat. If you did, one would be sure to fall. Neither of you were good at dancing. It was a task often left to the Barnes brother. So as you spun out, he gestured out to the water, as if drawing something only your eyes could see. “Picture a land that you never have seen, where life is eternal and ever green. A future of happiness all in your hands. Here in this place if your dreams.”

You finally sang, “Here inside Neverland.” There was a level of hope in your voice that he hadn’t predicted. Perhaps he had taken this too far? Turning to face him, you brought a thumb to his cheek and traced gently. The slight green of his eyes seemed to brighten from that small touch. “We can sail away tonight on a sea of pure moonlight. We can navigate the stars to bring us back home. In a place so far away…”

“We’ll be young, that’s how we’ll stay.”

“Every wish is our command. We will find ourselves in never…Neverland.” You blink away tears, a stray one slipping down your cheek, but Steve is quick to catch it with his thumb.

He smiled. “Every wish is our command.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course, Y/N.” He tucked your hair back, eyes shifting to meet yours. “We’ll always have Neverland. Even when I’m off in the middle of God knows where and Buck finds a way to drive me insane, I’ll be there with you. I promise.”

You faltered, that hopeful glint in your eyes dissipating and he realizes he misunderstood. Still, it doesn’t stop you. You have to ask. “No, I mean…would you leave with me? Just us? Start over and build a life together? Buck has Dot. He’ll have someone to come back to when the war is over, but…” You didn’t voice the evident concern. If there was somehow, some way, of Steve joining the war…the odds of him coming home were nonexistent. He’d die before he ever had the opportunity to try and come back. The two of you had a complicated history, one made that way by a certain protective brother and best friend, but the affection and love between the two of you was there. It always had been and there was never a moment it was denied. However, this was the first time it had ever been vocalized to this extent. “We could leave. We could find our own Neverland, a place for just the two of us.”

“Y/N, that’s a place from a book. It isn’t real.” He took your hand gently, giving it a light squeeze as he stepped off the bench. “I mean, I was just trying to cheer you up, you know?” He looked up at you, regretting his words only when he saw the pain in your eyes. “I mean, surely one of these places is going to sign off and I’ll be on my way right after Buck, but —“

“You have to be kidding me.” You jump off the bench, taking a couple steps away and brushing the tears from your lashes. “You really think you’ll be able to join? Steve, choosing to lie on military forms is illegal. And with your medical history, there’s no way.” You choked on laughter filled with disbelief, sobs you refused to let break, as you tried to make your point. “You’re doing this because you’re some scrawny kid from Brooklyn. Because you have this incessant need to prove that you are just like everyone else.”

“Y/N —“

“But you’re not! And that’s what makes you so amazing. Because you aren’t like all the idiotic men out there. You aren’t another one that’s like Buck. I love him to death, but men like that? They’re infuriating. I thought you were different. I thought you liked being different.”

“I do, but this is about serving my country. It’s about getting rid of the bullies and —“

“This isn’t some fight in an alley, Steve! It’s not a bully in a theatre or some restaurant. It’s a war. There are guns and bombs and prisoners and death. It isn’t some moment for you to try and prove yourself. You’re so desperate that it’ll get yourself killed!”

Your voice rang through his core, through his soul, and reminded him everything he always fought Bucky about. It wasn’t until this moment that you sounded like everyone else who told him he couldn’t. You sounded like all those others who said he wasn’t strong enough. Maybe he wasn’t in body, but he certainly was in body. He squared off his shoulders, clenching his jaw as he looked away. As silence fell between the two of you, you realized you had gone too far.

“Steve, I —“

“I always hear that crap from Bucky. He always made it clear that he thought I was too weak, but I never…I never thought you’d look at me like that.”

“Steve, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Well, it’s not your problem. It never was. We weren’t together. We aren’t courting or anything like that. We’re friends.”

Friends. Because both of you were too chicken to take that next step.

And you had been the one to think that the song he sang was his way of trying.

You were wrong.

“Yeah, we were.”

He looked up, frowning. “Were?”

“I can’t. I can’t watch you try again and again to enlist. I can’t watch you get yourself killed or arrested on a fool’s run, Steve. It hurts too much. I wanted…I wanted to be enough for you. I wanted a future together to be enough, but hearing all this? I know it won’t be.” You meet his gaze and in that moment, he knows the fear you feel is so much stronger than he had ever thought. It seemed you hadn’t been voicing your concerns and only now were you doing just that, only providing an ultimatum with it.

You…or the war.

“An ultimatum?”

“No,” you assured him, sniffling and brushing away tears before they fell too far. “No, not an ultimatum. I know better than that.” You looked away. “I’m pulling myself out of the whole equation.”

“Wait, what?” He felt his heart stop. Everything felt like it was crashing down. He never would have thought that you’d make the choice for him.

“I won’t be second to a war, Steve. I won’t.” And with that, you walked past him, shoulders set and determination barely shielding the outside world from the still lingering fear. You couldn’t let Bucky see that part of you. “I’ll go find Bucky and Dot. They shouldn’t be too far from here.”

He watched you walk away, wanting to call out. He wanted to stop you, argue and prove that you were enough. But you were right. The war took precedence in his mind and soul. He couldn’t turn his back on hundreds of people for the sake of one. He couldn’t do it for the love of one either. With that choice would come resentment and pain. Eventually you two would walk away from each other, right? So why not skip those steps?

Steve slowly blinked, drifting out of the memory as a tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

What he didn’t know at the time was that would be the last time you two spoke face to face. The next time he would hear from you would be when you were saying goodbye to Bucky the next day. The next time he would see you would be after Bucky died fighting for the Howling Commandos, saying you blamed him for Bucky’s death. Up until that night you had stood by him more so than anyone. You had fought for him, with him, and always told him that he was strong. You saw past the scrawny kid and saw the man he actually was despite the fact that everyone, including himself, was completely oblivious to it.

And he walked away from you.

Brushing away that tear, he looked out to Wakanda. It glowed in the moonlight and he found himself shifting his gaze to the stars above. A few twinkled brighter than the others and he found himself wondering, “Am I closer now to finding…” His voice hitched as he tried to refrain from letting more tears fall. “Neverland.”

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superhusbands4ever · 5 years

Text

it’s too late to go back (i can see the darkness through the cracks) - 6.6K - Explicit

Post-CACW, Steve/Tony, Winter Soldier!Tony Stark, Steve POV

Warnings: Graphic violence, blood & gore, electrocution, Not-A-Fix-It, No Happy Ending, implied character death (but no one is actually dead I promise)

Steve rubs his hand over his tired eyes, trying to fight sleep and focus on the file in front of him. It isn’t very big and he has read it a million times at this point, but it was all the information they had about Tony.

Tony, who has been missing for nearly a year now.

The day Steve found out, the palace had been in a frenzy for a few hours already when T’Challa asked for a moment alone with Steve. He hadn’t known what to expect from the meeting, but he did know he hadn’t expected the four words that would haunt his every dream and waking moment for weeks and months to come.

“Tony Stark is missing.”

It had only been a few days since the fight in Siberia. Since Tony had seen… and then he’d tried to… and then the fighting… and Steve almost--

It had only been a few days since the fight in Siberia, then. It had been an eventful few days, between returning to Wakanda, breaking out the other Avengers from the Raft, writing Tony that letter and sending him the phone, and watching Bucky go back under in cryo. Steve had already been emotionally and mentally exhausted.

When there was a sudden flurry of movement around the palace, Steve’s first thought was that the UN had found them. Either the UN had found them or T’Challa had given up where they were. Either way, it wasn’t good.

But when T’Challa had come to Steve and told him the news, he’d almost wished it was the UN at their door.

Instead of the UN it was Rhodey and Vision. Rhodey had called T’Challa, frantic and desperate, telling T’Challa that Tony had disappeared. FRIDAY had sent coordinates of Tony’s last known location to Vision before all communication was lost. When Vision had gotten there, Tony and the suit were gone. Rhodes had said the only way to shut down communication with FRIDAY in the suit was to completely kill power to the suit. If the suit was powerless then Tony shouldn’t have been able to go anywhere on his own.

Therefore, Rhodey and Vision believed he had been taken.

Everything had devolved after that. A few days passed and Stark Industries was never contacted about ransom. A few weeks passed and no strange explosions or miraculous tech had appeared. A few months passed and the world was ready to give up, ready to declare Tony Stark KIA and give him an official funeral.

But Steve wasn’t ready.

Steve blamed himself. He blamed himself for shutting down the suit. He blamed himself for leaving Tony behind. He had just been so worried, so scared when he went after Bucky like that--

Still, simple facts were that he was the one who made the decision to bring his shield down on the arc reactor. He was the reason Tony’s suit didn’t have power. He was the one who made the decision to leave Tony behind. It was his fault.

He didn’t think anyone would argue with him on that either.

Now, though, they were running out of leads. It seemed like common sense at the time to assume HYDRA had taken Tony, given it was their old bunker they had been fighting in. However, they had checked every HYDRA hideout Clint and Natasha could find hidden in those old SHIELD dump files. They were running out of leads and sources to look through, and Clint had started insinuating that maybe they were looking in the wrong direction. Maybe whoever took Tony wasn’t HYDRA but someone else.

But they hadn’t exhausted all of their HYDRA resources yet.

“You ready to go?”

Honestly, Steve felt more than a little guilty waking Bucky from what was probably the first truly peaceful rest he’d gotten in a long time. But they were running out of places to look, and God only knew they’d long since run out of time, and Steve was too desperate to give up.

Bucky had understood of course and had willingly given any information he could. He’d known of a few places HYDRA had never actually put on a paper trail, so they had some new leads and some new information. Steve knew Bucky was probably helping partially out of a slight sense of guilt, and he knew this was hard for Bucky yet he never complained. Steve felt even more guilty at making Bucky journey back into all those awful memories, but Bucky had just shaken his head.

“I told you. Till the end of the line, punk.”

“Where did you say this place was again?” Steve asks as he stands, gathering up his files for the mission.

“Siberia,” Bucky says quietly, and Steve tries to ignore the pang in his chest, “There’s an old base in the mountains outside of an abandoned town called Kadykchan. HYDRA has been hiding in the area for decades.”

Steve nods, but he regards Bucky carefully. He’s leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. His new, black vibranium arm (courtesy of Princess Shuri) glints in the sunlight through the window. His posture appears carefree, but his face is pinched and he’s avoiding looking Steve in the eye.

“What is it?” Steve asks bluntly.

“It’s nothing,” Bucky replies, his voice carefully blank.

“So there is something?”

Bucky sighs and looks at his shoes for a moment, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

“I just…” Buck drifts off momentarily before turning his head to look out the window.

“This base we’re going to. I’ve been there before quite a few times--”

“Buck--”

“-- it’s where they used to do all their experiments.”

Steve froze. He didn’t know how to react.

“It’s where they…” Bucky gestures with his metal arm, “...y’know.”

Steve feels horrified. “Bucky…”

“No one really knew it was there,” Bucky plows on, turning to look directly at Steve. “The only ones who knew were the guys at the top, highest level, the scientists and doctors who worked there, and… and their captives.”

“You--”

“It’s also where they’d take their new soldiers,” Bucky says quietly. “Take them there, give them the serum, keep ‘em for observation. I was usually brought in to test against the ones who made it.”

Steve’s whole body goes numb. He suddenly can’t breathe properly. He feels like he is simultaneously getting too much air, yet not enough.

“I just wanted to tell you, because...” Bucky sighs. “I know you’re hoping that we’re gonna find him this time, but, Steve? At this place? I really hope we don’t.”

Steve’s eyes slip closed and he feels his whole body try to cave in on itself. He tried not to think of the possibilities, the implications. The thought of Tony being there, alone, tortured, tormented, and experimented on--

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Bucky asked quietly, turning to lead Steve to the tarmac where the quinjet was waiting for them.

“No,” Steve replies, stepping in line beside Bucky and trying to ignore all the disgusting images going through his mind. “I don’t think I really have since…”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, “I haven’t really slept much either since you guys unfroze me.”

“I really am sorry, Buck,” Steve starts, heart heavy.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Bucky assures him, attempting a smile. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I told you, till the end of line, right?”

Steve takes a deep breath and nods.

“Besides, I know you and Stark have a… history.”

Bucky is hedging like he’s unsure how Steve will react to the subject.

“Yes, Buck, we were... screwing around before, but that doesn’t--”

“Just screwing around, huh?” Bucky is smirking slightly at him now and Steve feels a pang in his chest at the familiar look on his face.

“I mean… it might have… there might have been-- more-- involved. Possibly. It’s-- it’s not like-- I mean we were--”

“Alright pal, calm down,” Bucky says as he claps a hand on Steve shoulder, “I’m just messing with you. Let’s go find your boyfriend.”

“Bucky.”

“I’m not judging,” Bucky lifts his hands in surrender as he turns to lead them out to the jet.

Steve rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and follows after him, trying to ignore the dread and anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

A few hours later and Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, Natasha, and Wanda are waiting as the jet starts its descent into the mountains outside of Kadykchan.

Steve waits with dread as he tries not to imagine what they might find in that bunker. An image of Tony frozen on ice floats into his head, quickly changing to an image of Tony strapped down to a metal chair, device on his head and bite guard in his mouth as HYDRA runs electricity through his brain and his body, Tony’s jaw clenched and veins in his neck popping in an attempt not to scream, to not give them the satisfaction--

“Whatever you’re thinking about, you need to stop.”

Steve jumps as Sam walks up beside him and claps a hand onto his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Steve says gruffly, swallowing hard. “My mind was running away from me.”

“I’ll say,” Sam says, glancing back at the others before turning back to Steve, stepping closer.

“Listen,” Sam starts, “I was talking to Barnes. He told me what this place is. I know exactly what it is you’re imagining in your head right now, but you need to focus. If Stark is here then he’s gonna need to you to be on your A-game to get him out.”

“What if he doesn’t want to leave,” Steve asks quietly, fear shining through his eyes. “You know what they did to Buck. You read the file, you know what this place is. What it does. You know what we might end up facing here, Sam.”

Sam meets Steve’s eye and Steve can see Sam is remembering the same thing he is. A masked super soldier relentlessly chasing them through DC, nearly killing Nick Fury, effortlessly killing dozens of others, nearly killing Captain America as well if he hadn’t saved him from drowning in the river.

“If Stark is here and he has been HYDRA-fied, it’s only been a few months,” Sam says quietly, looking straight into Steve’s eyes, “Barnes was in their grasp for nearly 70 years and we managed to break through to him. We’ll figure it out.”

Steve nods and swallows again.

“I just--” he stutters, trying to clear his mind and get ready to focus on the mission, “if they did turn him… into-- into… you know. It’s Tony, Sam, I don’t know if I-- if I can--”

“I know,” Sam reassures him quietly, “I know what Stark means to you. I remember how you two were before all that… Civil War shit. And I know no matter what I say to you right now or what happens in that bunker, you’re going to blame yourself. But you shouldn’t. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”

Steve simply nodded again, not trusting his voice.

“Landing in five,” Clint’s voice says from overhead in the cockpit, “everyone gear up.”

Sam claps Steve on the back one more time and tries to give him a reassuring smile, not really succeeding.

“It’ll be okay,” Same says, “if it comes down to it, you’ll be able to get through to him.”

Steve mentally gives Sam kudos for actually sounding like he believed that.

The base is abandoned when they arrive.

“You know,” Clint says quietly, bow and arrow in hand, “for some reason I thought there would actually be people at this one. How is HYDRA supposed to be slowly taking over the world if all their bases are abandoned?”

“Not all of them,” Bucky says gruffly, face pale as he looks around, “just the ones people still know about.”

“That’s reassuring,” Clint mumbles under his breath.

“Quiet with the chatter,” Natasha snaps over the comms from where she is ahead of the group with Steve. Clint grumbles but doesn’t say anything.

“It was recently abandoned,” Wanda says from where she has stopped by a group of desks with computers on them. They were standing in some sort of office room near the back of the base.The desks themselves look like they were hastily packed, papers strewn about and drawers left hanging open from where they had been violently pulled apart.

“Why do you say that?” Steve asks, turning back and walking to stand next to Wanda.

She lifts a hand and places it on the side of a computer tower on the desk in front of her.

“Still warm,” she says, eyes wide, “they’ve been on very recently.”

“They must’ve gotten wind we were coming somehow,” Bucky said, lowering his gun slightly. “They must have a watch stationed further out. Maybe radar or something that saw us coming and warned them.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees quietly, trying to ignore the disappointment he feels bubbling in his stomach.

It’s probably a good thing there’s nothing there. They’d looked all through the bunker by that point and hadn’t found anyone. They’d found the old training room, the holding rooms and cryo-chambers of the old soldiers, and even the wiping chair, but there had been no one around. Everything… looked like it hadn’t been touched in a couple years.

Apparently not true, but nonetheless, as of that moment there was nothing there for them.

And if nothing is here… that means Tony might be… Tony might not have been….

It’s probably just wishful thinking on Steve’s part at this point that HYDRA hasn’t done something horrible to Tony yet considering how long he’s been missing.

“Alright,” Steve says louder, turning to the group assembled behind him. “If there’s nothing else here to see then I think we should turn around and head back. Bucky says there are still a couple of bases we can check, so if there really isn’t anything here then we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

He had tried to keep his commanding Captain Voice to hide his disappointment at not finding anything, but judging by the sympathetic looks on everyone else’s faces, he hadn’t succeeded.

“Well,” Clint says as they all start making their way to the front of the bunker, “at least we didn’t have to fight any more winter soldiers.”

“I can fight you if you’re that desperate,” Bucky says, face completely straight.

“Nope,” Clint says, side-eyeing Bucky and moving to stand behind Nat, “nope, I’m not doing that, thanks.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and shoves Clint away.

Steadily they make their way back to the front of the building so they can start the journey back to Wakanda. They walk back through the training room and the room with the chair in the middle, chambers lining the walls. Steve watches the way Bucky eyes the chair, gaze blank but his face extremely pale.

Steve catches his eye and raises an eyebrow, but Bucky simply shakes his head and tightens his hands on his rifle before moving ahead and not looking back.

A while later they all turn the corner to the exit and Steve feels the air inside of him freeze as he takes in the sight that is before them. He hears the others behind him gasp and curse as they realize what it is that they’re seeing in front of them.

There, making his way towards the hall to exit the bunker from the other side, is a man in all black kevlar, long, lanky brown hair, and a black mask that covers everything from his eyebrows down to his chin. He has holsters on both legs holding two handguns, and he’s carrying what looks like a duffel bag full of more weapons.

The man looks up and freezes as well as he apparently meets Steve’s eyes behind his masked ones.

Everyone is frozen looking at each other for a few moments before the soldier seems to come to his senses. He straightens up and drops the duffle bag behind him, hands coming up in front of him as he cracks his knuckles and takes a clearly offensive stance, ready to fight them.

“You had to say it, didn’t you,” Steve hears Sam grumble to Clint from behind him.

Steve can hear everyone gearing up and getting ready to fight as they stare each other down for a few moments.

Steve opens his mouth to tell everyone to make their move when the soldier suddenly lunges toward them all.

Steve lunges to the side to avoid a direct punch to the face and sees Clint and Bucky step up from behind him to take on the man.

Clint pulls an arrow from his quiver, but before he has the opportunity to latch it, the winter soldier is in front of him. Clint tries to fight him off but a hard kick to the shin and a quick swipe of the leg has Clint falling down to one knee.

Clint watches in horror as the soldier grabs the bow from his hand and proceeds to bend the metal in half. The soldier throws the bow down at Clint’s feet before turning to face Bucky. Bucky quickly lunges forward to meet him.

“I thought Zemo killed all the other Winter Soldiers!”

“He did,” Bucky yells back as he dodges another blow, “those were all the ones they had!”

“Well obviously HYDRA had a secret stash lying around somewhere!” Clint screams, finally leaving his bow and climbing back to his feet, pulling a gun from its thigh holster.

Clint fires a couple of shots at the soldier’s back and openly gapes as the bullets hit the jacket only to bounce right back off. The spot where they struck the jacket lights up a bright blue before the bullets fall harmlessly to the ground at the soldier’s feet.

“The hell did HYDRA get that tech?” Clint curses under his breath as he tries to recalculate what to do next.

Bucky swings at the soldier’s head with his metal arm, but the soldier simply bends backwards to avoid the hit, his own fists coming up one right after the other to punch Bucky in the sternum. It leaves Bucky a little breathless for a moment but it doesn’t stop him from swinging his leg up and around in a kick to try and hit the other man’s head. The soldier once again ducks down to avoid the hit, and while Bucky it turned around the soldier quickly raises his own leg to spartan kick Bucky in his lower back. The kick is apparently stronger than it looks because it sends Bucky forward a couple feet into the air and Bucky has to scramble to not land on his face at the unexpected hit.

The man seems to pause for a second to gain his bearings and Steve takes a minute to watch him.

This soldier is smaller than the two men he’d been fighting, less muscular and more lean. He moves with grace, quick on his feet because the lack of bulk like Bucky and Steve have makes it easier to maneuver around them. The lack of bulk does not mean a lack of strength, however, as his fighting seems to indicate he has some level of super strength on par with other winter soldiers, which is a lot. His greasy hair hangs in his face over the mask in matted, tangled curls.

While Bucky is down, the soldier stops to press a button on his wrists, and slowly a black metal materializes from somewhere moving like liquid, forming protective gloves over his hands. They light up a bright blue as electricity spreads through them, the power in them so strong the electricity jumps in staticy-blue arcs between the fingers like miniature lightning.

He turns back toward Clint, fingers curled like claws as the electricity bounces between the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, hell no,” Clint says, eyeing the gloves warily.

The soldier takes a step toward Clint when suddenly the air fills with a whooshing sound and somebody is shouting.

“Barton, get down!”

Clint drops to the ground just as Sam comes flying forward, flipping around in the air so his legs are facing forward and double kicks the soldier in the chest at high speed, sending him flying backwards.

Sam lands and Wanda comes up behind him, fingers already lit up red as the soldier gets back to his feet and runs back toward them.

Sam runs forward to face the soldier head on, using his wings to jump over the other man whenever he tries to swipe at Sam with his gloves. Sam manages to hold his own for a few punches, even managing to land another kick to the soldiers face while he was mid-jump.

Sam jumps through the air again to avoid another swipe by the electric gloves, but the soldier seems to have figured out his pattern because as soon as Sam jumps the soldier jumps with him, hands grabbing onto the falcon wing pack. He swings Sam around so that Sam hangs in front of him, and the electric blue of his gloves grows more intense and cackles as the soldier pours the current into the wings.

Sam cries out a little from where the electricity shocks him, the wings now shutting down and sparking under the onslaught of the shocks.

“It’s an EMP, someone stop him!” Sam shouts with pain in his voice.

Wanda lifts her hands and suddenly the soldier’s hands and arms are surrounded by the red of Wanda’s magic. She tries to get his fingers to let go of the suit but she seems to be struggling as if the soldier is able to fight back against her powers. His arms jerk suddenly, and instead of his fingers unclenching both of the soldier’s arms go flying the the air, taking Sam with them.

“No!” Wanda shouts and tries to dissipate her power, but it’s too late.

The soldier’s arms fling forcefully to the side as if he had literally tried to throw Wanda’s power off of himself. The red of Wanda’s magic faded halfway through and at the last second the soldier let go of Sam’s wing pack. The force of the throw sends Sam flying to the other side of the room before he crashes into the wall, his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack before he falls to the ground. He doesn’t get back up.

The soldier pays Sam no mind and immediately turns toward Wanda, apparently identifying her as the bigger threat.

He makes a few swipes a her that she manages to dodge and weave around, pushing his hands away with her magic when his gloves get too close. Steve tries to throw his shield and get the soldier to stop, but the other man simply ducks as the shield hits the wall and bounces back to Steve’s hand. Bucky and Clint are both shooting at the soldier but the bullets just bounce off his back like they had when they tried before.

Steve realizes before Wanda does that the soldier is herding her into a corner, trying to get her back against the wall so she can no longer slide by him and escape.

“Wanda! He--”

The soldier lunges forward and Wanda brings her arms up, fingers working furiously through the air and then the soldier is held frozen, both of his arms and chest held in place by the red light, unmoving.

The soldier struggles and grunts against the magic, but he doesn’t move.

“He should be stuck now,” Wanda says through clenched teeth, her face scrunched up in concentration, “but hurry, I don’t know how long I can hold him.”

The soldier snarls at her behind his mask.

“Okay,” Steve says, looking around at the others, “how are we going to--”

“CAP!”

Steve turns and sees Wanda watching the soldier in horror. Her hands are still working furiously to keep him in place, but he is using his super strength against her and using his legs to push against it as much as he can. Steve watches as though in slow motion as the soldier’s hands, still cackling with electricity, jerkily move so they are extended in front of him. His palms aren’t flat, instead his fingers are outstretched and curled as if he’s trying to grab at Wanda’s jacket. There’s a whirring sound as the electricity builds up in the gloves, and even though the pose and the move is convoluted, twisted and more sinister, there is something about it that is familiar all the same. Watching it makes the bottom drop out of Steve’s stomach as he imagines another gauntleted hand making a similar gesture--

Before anyone can react, the electricity gathering in his fingers and in his palms shoot out from his hands toward Wanda, striking her on her open, unprotected side. Immediately she lights up bright blue as electricity seems to travel throughout her body, her back bowing in midair as she’s electrocuted. She throws her head back and a gut-wrenching scream is ripped from her throat as her body convulses from the electricity still being poured into her. Her body seems to lift off the ground for a moment before suddenly the electricity stops and she drops to the ground. They all watch as she drops motionless except for the occasional twitch from a limb.

Nobody moves as they all stare in horror wondering if Wanda is even still alive. Steve can barely breathe for all that his lungs seem to have stopped working.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Clint moves forward. He runs up to the soldier and jumps, spins, and kicks, his heel connecting with the side of the soldier’s face, disconnecting the mask--

The mask falls--

Time stands still and Steve feels as if the Hulk punched him in the chest, a strong ache in his heart as all the oxygen leaves his body and the room.

“Tony?”

Tony stares at them impassively, not seeming to care that his mask has been removed and not appearing to recognize Steve at all.

No. God, no. Not again, not again, no, this can’t be happening, this couldn’t be real--

Tony moves quickly, lifting a metal fist to bring it down hard on Clint’s head. Distracted as he is by the reveal, Clint goes down quickly, legs crumpling beneath him before he lay still on the ground. Blood drips down from his forehead and down his face, split open from the hit, but his chest is still moving.

Tony pushes forward and tries to move around them to get to the exit, apparently deciding he is wasting his time staying here to fight them.

He was trying to escape. To go where Steve couldn’t follow, to go back to those people, the ones who had turned him into this, to where Steve couldn’t help him--

Steve takes a step forward and places himself between Tony and his destination. Tony stops and stares at him, face still blank. Bucky is quietly creeping up steadily behind Tony, trying to sneak up on him.

Tony must’ve heard something anyway because he turns around, swinging his arm around to Bucky’s head. Bucky catches the gloved metal fist with his own and shoves it back. They’re fighting again now, Bucky and Tony, old soldier to new. Tony appears to be more defensive than offensive this time, seemingly wanting to simply escape the attack so he can get away rather than try to kill them to escape.

Bucky appears to have the upper hand, slowly moving forward and thus pushing Tony back until he is closer to Steve. Just a little closer… come on, just a little…

Faster than any of them can blink, Tony goes from defensive to offensive, quickly showing that he had been holding a lot back until now. He spun in the air, striking his leg out so his foot hits Bucky across the jaw so hard Steve hears a crack. Bucky’s head turns so quickly and so far Steve is almost worried Tony has snapped Bucky’s neck.

Tony lands and immediately, while Bucky is still disoriented, drags his other leg under Bucky’s and knocks him to the ground. Tony climbs on top of him before Buck can get back up, punching him hard with his metal hand once, twice, three times in the face. Steve can hear the snap and crack of bones under Tony’s fist, blood pouring from Bucky’s nose, mouth, and face. Tony swings one more time, this time winding his arm completely up and behind his head before swinging it down with full force, striking Bucky so hard his head snaps to the side, splattering the wall beside him with blood.

It’s obvious HYDRA has given Tony some kind of serum, probably the same one they’d once killed Howard Stark for. Just the thought of that possibility makes Steve feel sick.

Tony sits straddled atop Bucky for a moment to catch his bearings before he wipes the blood from his face with his sleeve and pushes himself to his feet. He picks up the gun Clint had dropped in the fight and turned towards Steve who has moved to block the exit.

Steve was gearing up to fight Tony, Tony slipping once again into a fighting stance--

--when suddenly there is an angry yell and someone launches themselves onto Tony’s back. He lurches forward from the unexpected weight but quickly corrects himself. He grabs onto one of the legs wrapped around his waist and tugs, hard.

Natasha tries to twist out of the grab at the same time and only ends up succeeding in landing flat on her back on the floor, all the air knocked out of her. Immediately Tony is there grabbing her by the throat and lifting her bodily from the ground, one handed, shoving her so hard against the wall Steve watches her head bounce back off of it, can hear the wet smack of it from across the room. Pain dances across her face before she can cover it.

She grabs at his hand as it squeezes tighter around her throat, nails clawing at the kevlar armor Tony is wearing. Tony’s face is blank, his eyes empty, no emotion, no reaction at all to the fact that he is strangling his friend, his teammate, in the middle of--

“Tony.”

Natasha has stopped struggling and is simply clinging to Tony’s arm instead. Her face is turning blue but she looks him in the eye, expression filled with more emotion and vulnerability than Steve has seen from her in a long time.

Tony’s grip on her neck is still tight, but apparently something has changed that Steve cannot see, because Natasha tries again.

“Tony, please.”

Tony’s face flickers with something and his eyes widen slightly.

“Come on, Tony,” Natasha can barely speak now, her throat so constricted and her body quickly getting weaker from lack of oxygen.

“You know me. Tony… Tony, you know--”

Tony’s grip lessens an obvious amount, his knuckles no longer white. Natasha draws in a deep breath, dragging in air on reflex before gagging on it and breaking into hacking, wheezing coughing.

Tony’s hand has dropped to the side and Natasha falls, just barely managing to land on her feet. His body is motionless as he stares at Natasha. His eyes seem brighter, and Steve thinks he can see some glint of recognition in his face the longer Tony looks at Natasha.

Natasha finally stops coughing but her breath is coming out in short gasps and her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“Tony…. Please…. You know me. You know me, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes meet hers. Steve is frozen, eyes on Tony waiting to see what he will do next.

“Tony….”

As suddenly as it appears it’s vanished, the recognition on his face gone before it falls back into the blank, empty shell of a mask it was before.

“Тони здесь нет.”

Steve jerks back in time with Natasha as the gunshot rings out.

Natasha’s mouth is open and her eyes are wide as she stares at Tony in shock before looking down at her own stomach. She lays a hand there and Steve feels his heart clench when he sees it come away with a lot of blood.

Steve watches in open mouthed horror as Natasha slides down the wall, leaving a bloody trail in her wake. Tony is raising the gun both Steve and Natasha had forgotten was in his hand, pointing it at Steve.

“Переехать.”

“Tony,” Steve whispers, holding his hands up in surrender, “Tony, please.”

“Переехать,” Tony says again, voice a little louder a little firmer.

“Tony, it’s me,” Steve choked, his voice caught on the lump in his throat. He can feel the burning behind his eyes, his throat constricting as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

“Baby, please,” he begs, hands raised in plea, “this isn’t right. This isn’t who you are.”

Steve tries to take a step forward but Tony takes a step back. His face is blank, but his deep brown eyes are as expressive as ever, and Steve can see the fear and confusion inside of them. Tony’s eyes were always his giveaway.

“Переехать!”

Steve flinches at the bellow and takes a step back. Tony’s eyes are wide and bright and wild, his face pale, his body shaking slightly where he stands from how tense he is.

“It’s me, Tony, it’s Steve,” he says, raising a hand and pulling his cowl from his face. He feels his hopes brighten at the way Tony’s eyes widen just a fraction in recognition.

“Baby, it’s me, please,” Steve whispers, putting a hand out, palm up towards Tony. He feels oddly like he is talking to a frightened, wounded animal.

He supposes, in a way, he is.

Tony’s eyebrows crease just so in confusion. The tension in his arms lessens and he lowers the gun slightly.

“It’s okay,” Steve reassures him, a nervous smile flitting across his face, “it’s okay, Tony. No one is going to hurt you, okay? Put the gun down. You can come with me.”

The gun lowers some more until it’s pointed at the ground at Steve’s feet. Tony’s eyes narrow slightly, his whole face breaking down into confusion as he stares at Seve with a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

“Steve,” he breathes, his voice hoarse.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, hope and relief coursing through his veins, “sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re here to help you, okay? We’re here to bring you home.”

Tony’s hand is loose around the gun now, the weapon hanging limply in his hand. Tony’s eyes are wide and suspiciously bright. He looks so confused and shaken, face still dotted and smeared with Bucky’s blood, and Steve’s heart nearly breaks at how unstable and utterly broken Tony looks at that moment.

Steve shuffles forward just another inch, his hand still held out for Tony to choose to take. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, up his throat, and into his ears as he watches Tony’s eyes flicker from his face down to his outstretched hand.

“Tony…” Steve whispers, desperation clear in his expression.

Tony takes a step forward and raises the hand not holding the gun. The electricity has long gone from the gloves, and Steve watches with quiet hope as the glove of Tony’s right hand retracts to reveal skin.

Tony’s fingers are just brushing Steve’s and Steve can feel the warmth radiating from them.

“Steve,” Tony whispers again, “I--”

And suddenly Tony is jerking his hand back, his entire body jerking back and the gun in his hand clamors to the ground as Tony’s hands suddenly reach up to grab at his own head.

Steve watches in quiet horror as Tony starts to pull at his own hair as he collapses to his knees. The room suddenly fills with Tony’s screams as some unseen force causes him intense, unimaginable pain. Screams tear from his throat, his back arching as he collapses to the ground, grabbing at his head, pulling his hair, and scratching both his gloved and uncovered hand at his face leaving gouges and trails of blood behind.

“Tony,” Steve shouts, moving closer to where Tony fell but unsure how to help him, “Tony, wha--”

Tony starts convulsing against the ground, screams growing louder as whatever is causing him pain seems to intensify. He picks up his uncovered fist and start hitting himself on the head to try and stop the pain, biting his lip to keep from screaming. Steve hovers over Tony, hands outstretched but unsure how to help as Tony lifts his head and bangs it on the ground once, twice, three times before suddenly the screaming stops and Tony stops moving.

Steve swallows back the nausea in his throat when he sees the blood spattered on the ground from where Tony had tried to bash his brains in. He stays kneeled next to Tony, unsure what to do. Tony is still alive - there are short whimpers coming from him and his chest is heaving as if he had just run a marathon. The rest of the bunker is silent as Tony recovers from whatever torture he’s just been subjugated to in his own head.

Steve shuffles forward a bit on his knees and slowly reaches a hand out towards Tony’s shoulder.

“Tony..?” Steve whispers, the sound barely more than a breath of air.

His fingers just barely brush against Tony’s shoulder--

Before Steve could even register what was happening, Tony flips over on the ground and kicks out with both legs, sending Steve flying back through the air. While Steve is distracted, Tony grabs the gun off the ground and kicks back up to his feet, and when Steve finally gets back to his feet it’s to find Tony a few feet from him, gun pointed straight between Steve’s eyes.

All recognition is gone from Tony’s face and eyes. His face is once again the carefully controlled blank slate that it was when they first arrived, the same look Steve had seen on Bucky’s face all those years ago in DC.

Mind wipe. They don’t even need the chair to do it anymore… they implanted it in his head.

Steve feels like his whole body has been drenched in cold water and he can barely breathe as he watches Tony slowly walk toward him, gun aloft. Tony is extremely pale, nose and forehead split open and dripping blood from where he banged his face against the concrete floor. His lip is sluggishly bleeding from where he bit through it trying to stop his screams.

Steve feels the tears gather in his eyes as he watches Tony stare impassively at him, all humanity seemingly gone.

Tony cocks his gun.

“Tony…” Steve begs, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks, “Tony, god… please…”

So quickly Steve thinks he might have imagined it, something flickers in Tony’s eyes before returning to the same emptiness they held before.

Steve holds his breath. Slowly, his eyes slip shut. He waits.

Nothing happens.

“Вы не мое задание,” Tony says quietly.

Tony moves quickly, pointing his gun back down. Steve feels a searing pain through his shin as the gunshot rings out and he stumbles to the side to try and coordinate himself.

Tony kicks his shin where the bullet has hit and Steve falls down with an agonized screech. Tony takes this moment of distraction, moving around Steve as he falls and walking calmly towards the exit.

Steve can hear helicopters from outside and figures that is Tony’s ride out of this place. He watches from the floor with tears in his eyes and down his face as Tony picks up his mask, slips it back on his face, and walks calmly out the exit without a backwards glance, leaving Steve surrounded by the carnage of the fallen Avengers.

Тони здесь нет - There is no Tony.

Переехать - Move

Вы не мое задание - You are not my mission

Tagging: @hell0-winghead @crazyfandomaddicted @tony-stark-has-a-heart @avengvr @she-who-ate-pizza-with-cap @agirlandagraveyard @pleasedtomeetmyself

#cady writes #stevetony #stony #post-cacw #graphic violence #not a happy ending #good new is i'm slowly being talked into writing a sequel lol #winter soldier tony #winter soldier tony stark #tony stark #steve rogers

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head-and-heart · 6 years

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The 100 Highlights - “Sleeping Giants” (5x03)

Hey, guys! It’s Kate back this week to recap the latest episode of The 100, “A Dad Story”, by listing some of my personal highlights of the episode. I have to say, every single episode of Season 5 so far has been super solid and this episode is no exception to that. Can’t wait to dive into this one!

Can I just start off by saying that I love how tastefully they have been implementing music into the show this season so far? I absolutely love Tree Adam’s score and its honestly weird sometimes to think that we had an entire two seasons without his genius, but I also think there’s power in not using any music at all for certain scenes. It creates a different vibe (and it becomes more effective when music is used). My one beef with the score in previous seasons has been that there were certain scenes I felt music wasn’t required, and that scenes would actually be more powerful without it (such as in the scene where Bellamy finds out Octavia is “dead” in Season 4 - I felt the music was detracting from his cries of grief). But I have noticed this season that they have quite a few scenes, compared to usual, where the music is used extremely liberally if not at all! And it gives a different vibe to the show - reminds me of TWD a bit at times. I love it.

Hi there. Charmaine Diyoza is joining Niylah, Luna, and Jaha on the list of characters who have the most soothing/pleasant voices to listen to on this show. It’s hypnotic. Honestly. God.

I’d like to take this moment to say that Emori and Raven’s friendship and trainee/mentor relationship is EVERYTHING!

The dramatic irony of Bellamy and the others listening over the radio and thinking the woman they are talking about is Octavia ... it’s A Lot

“She’s a feisty one. Pretty too.” Yasss that is my QUEEN

I have to say that the new characters we’re getting this season are possibly the best new characters we’ve ever been introduced to. Kara Cooper was amazing. Charmaine is a chilling, smart, yet reasonable antagonist and every line she says is fascinating. Madi has so much character potential, and McCreary is just the right kind of sociopath that can fuck our heroes up and ensure the show is always interesting (and also the kind of villain I feel JR has been so hesitant to incorporate into the show in the past, with the whole “there are no good guys” everything-must-be-morally-grey stance). Not to mention Zeke, who is just like ... everything I could ever want guys. THE NEW CHARACTERS ARE JUST SO GOOD. And the acting has been REALLY strong.

CHARMAINE DIYOZA IS SO FUCKING COOL AND RUTHLESS AND BADASS AND I ALREADY LOVE THIS NEW ANTAGONIST. She manages to be both authoritative and intimidating without ever having to raise her voice or pull out a weapon. That’s power.

Seriously fam, I can’t get over how awesome these new characters are. We really hit the jackpot this season. They’ve opened up so much room for future story by introducing all these new people.

I really love how they have managed to show just how close the members of the ring are with each other while also demonstrating the tension between everyone, and all the ways that they can push each others buttons. There are so many layers to all the dynamics up in space and I am pleasantly surprised by it because, with how the season has been described, it sounded like the factions were going to be spacekru as a unit vs the bunker vs Clarke/Madi vs Eligius. But by showing all the conflict within these small groups, it creates potential for allegiances to shift around more than I was expecting. The bunker is built upon internal chaos, Eligius is far from being a unit (with a handful of loose canons and Zeke thrown into the mix to switch things up), Spacekru has some conflicting opinions/beliefs, and even Madi and Clarke are not completely on the same page about how to deal with the new threat. It’s really exciting all the different things the writers might do with that.

The scene where they find the cryo chamber felt like it could have come straight out of a scene from the mummy, where one character walks past a coffin and disturbs one of the dead. And when Kodiak’s eyes popped open, it was like a mummy awakening from the crypt. There was just something so eery about the vibe in there. The suspense was glorious.

“Murder ... murder ... arson resulting in murder ... armed robbery ... resulting in murder” I love one (1) comedian

Great-great-grandpappy Blake had four pHD’s. Bellamy is descended from a family of nerds: confirmed. I love winning.

The debate between Bellamy, Raven, Murphy and Echo over what to do with the sleeping army was just so tense and SO GOOD. Every single one of them had a good point. This is The 100 handling moral dilemmas at their finest.

“Clarke didn’t die just so we could go back to the ground and make the same mistakes.” THIS IS BELLAMY AT HIS BEST - THIS IS WHAT HIS ENTIRE CHARACTER ARC HAS BEEN LEADING TO. THIS MOMENT. He finally got to face that sleeping army of 300 once again and had the opportunity to choose differently this time. And he did. isaythatsmybabyandimreallyproud.gif

ZEKE SHAW IS AN ANGEL I FREAKING LOVE HIM. “Believe it or not, this is the best conversation I’ve had in over a hundred years.” HIS SMILE IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN Y’ALL HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I WANT TO JUST HUG THIS KID

But seriously, let’s talk about Zeke Shaw. Hearing someone take about life before the apocalypse is just ... wow??? I didn’t know how good it would feel to find a character that we can actually relate to, that understands our time. Hearing him talk about being an altar-boy just outside Detroit, being a fun-loving adventure-seeking kid with a Harley Davidson, made my heart warm.

“God, I miss that bike. More than most of the people.” First of all, relatable. Second of all, my heart hurts. When you think about it, Zeke’s story is pretty tragic. Leaving his whole life behind only to wake up a hundred years later to discover that everyone he once loved is dead and the world is irreparably changed. Imagine how fucking jarring that would be? Even if he doesn’t show his sadness much, I’m sure he must be feeling it, if his reminiscing is anything to go by.

HIS SMILE IS SO BRIGHT. WHEN DO WE EVER GET GENUINE SMILES LIKE THIS. LIKE, GOD, I MIGHT BE FALLING IN LOVE WITH THIS GUY

I’m never going to be over how awesome these new characters are fam. They’re so well-rounded already I’m shaking

“Start with how the world ended.” “Which time.” MOTHERFUCKER I’VE GOT CHILLS. HOW TO BE A BADASS WITH TWO WORDS: A GUIDE BY CLARKE GRIFFIN

“I left Clarke behind to die and I can’t - I’m not doing that again.” MY BOY GOT CHOKED UP IT’S BEEN SIX YEARS AND HE’S STILL SO AFFECTED BY HER LIKE F UCK

But real talk, that BR scene was beautiful. Their relationship has been chronically strained in the past but it really feels like they’ve built a true partnership up in space and I’m super here for it. They’re a good team, and they have a bond that kind of reminds me of a sibling-like bond (one that’s not as fucked up and dysfunctional as what the Blakes have). I really loved it.

“There wasn’t an escape pod.” “...Wut” Congrats, you PLAYED yourself. What a classic Murphy move dam

“You know what, you’re right: dying alone would have sucked.” I LIVE FOR THESE SEASON 2 PARALLELS

Real talk though: I may not ship them romantically but Lindsey and Richard have hella good chemistry and Raven and Murphy’s scenes together always pop so this is a GREAT sign for 5x04

“Just breathe” Bellamy Blake is the daddest dad to ever dad you heard it here first

BELLAMY AND EMORI BELLAMY AND EMORI BELLAMY AND EMORI

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A SMILE MORE BRIGHT

“She’s just a kid.” Bellamy, this is the most on brand thing you have ever said.

“Bellamy. Clarke knew you would come.” CUE MY SCREAMING AND FLAILING HOLY F UCK I KNEW I WAS GOING TO DIE WHEN MADI AND BELLAMY MET BUT THE FACT THAT SHE RECOGNIZED HIM ENOUGH FROM CLARKE’S DRAWINGS (and JUST him) OH MY GOD. This is the fanfic meeting of my dreams.

Madi: *grabs Bellamy’s hand* Me: *dies*

“Madi ... no.” “Madi, no.” I LOVE TWO SOULMATES

“I won’t let anything happen to Clarke. I promise.” Even after all this time he’s always looking out for her. And Madi just trusts him. So easily. Ugh my heart.

BELLAMY STEPPING OUT OF THE HEADLIGHTS LIKE AN ANGEL. BELLAMY HOLDING UP THE BEST DAD IN THE UNIVERSE MUG. BELLAMY BARGAINING FOR CLARKE’S LIFE. BELLAMY HOLDING CHARMAINE’S ARMY AGAINST HER. BELLAMY PERFECTLY BALANCING THE HEAD AND THE HEART. BELLAMY.

i’m turned on

Let’s be honest though that “Best Dad in the Universe Mug” is the MVP of the show for sure. That mug has singlehandedly carried the whole season. Riley who? Nothing but respect for my new fav character.

No offense but Clarke immediately dissolving into tears on the floor at the sight of Bellamy is highkey relatable. Me too bitch the fuck

SHE.

IS.

BOOM OUT MOTHERFUCKER

okay okay okay I gotta backtrack though because when Bellamy says those words he is literally JUST staring at Clarke, right into her eyes. Because those words were not for Charmaine, they were for Clarke. So she would know just how important she is to him. So she knows that, even though they have aged, their connection has not. I mean, fuck.

THIS EPISODE WAS SO FREAKING EPIC GUYS. IT WAS POSSIBLY EVEN BETTER ON REWATCH. IT WAS JUST SO GOOD.

And 5x04 is gonna kill us all so expect some WORDS from me next week. Byeeeeeeee

#the 100 #bellarke #bellamy blake #the 100 5x03 #the 100 sleeping giants #posts by moi #the 100 highlights series

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bellarnyblakc · 6 years

Text

let’s stop running from love

For anon who asked for bellarke finally having a quiet moment to process the fact that they’re both here.

Bellamy and Clarke don’t wake the others from cryo-sleep immediately, and instead use these few minutes of peace and quiet to talk and attempt to resolve all the things that are broken between them. explicit, 3.9k, [ao3]

Jordan slips out around the same time they stood staring at the sunrise of the second sun over their new planet, their new home, their new chance. Bellamy looks around in concern, but before he can make to follow Jordan, Clarke grasps his hand in hers.

“Leave him be – he needs a few minutes.” She urges, and she can see Bellamy’s conflicting feelings, his heart telling him he shouldn’t leave someone who was in pain, and his head telling him that Jordan needs time to process. Slowly, he nods and the tension in his shoulders abates slightly even as the redness in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “So, what now?” she asks, slightly breathless from the sheer impossibility of it all.

“We wake Raven,” he says decisively. “She’ll know how to get us down.” Clarke tries to ignore the flare of hope at his words. We, he’d said and maybe he didn’t mean it the way she did in her thoughts but maybe, just maybe, he did. Maybe his we was the same as hers, the two of them together again. Partners and companions despite everything that had come before.

“How do we tell them all?” she wonders aloud, hoping he’ll put the tremor in her voice down to this overwhelming path in front of them instead of her yearning and hoping for them to be okay again.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I guess first we need to figure out how to open the pods.” She takes a bracing breath and makes to go back to the cryo room.

“Wait,” he says, and this time he’s the one who grabs her hand. “Just. They’ve been asleep for a hundred and twenty-five years. What’s a few more minutes? Let’s just be -” he trails off but she immediately understands the desire for a few more uninterrupted, peaceful minutes of no responsibility before they faced whatever was down there.

“Be what?” she prompts with a smirk. Lazy, she thinks he’ll snark back, but when she looks at him, his eyes are full of a myriad of emotions that makes her heart clench and arms ache to pull him to her, if only to let him know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone. Bellamy, who had closed his eyes for what felt like only a moment and opened them again to find out two of his closest friends had lived and loved and died while he was asleep.

“Let’s just be Bellamy and Clarke for a bit. No sides; no wars; no decisions; no betrayals. The way it was always meant to be.” She feels hollow at his words, longing for a universe in which they could have been normal, with nothing pulling them apart over and over. It’s almost incomprehensible, how easily she’s able to imagine a happier life with him and how much she mourns the way it could have been, should have been when her relationship with Bellamy has been nothing except full of trials and tribulations.

His eyes are boring into hers, searching and hesitant and her whole body feels wound tight; the air around them electric; the two of them just waiting for the lightning to strike.

She swallows and looks away, edging away from the precipice she’s become so familiar with since meeting him. There’s still too much between them, too much uncertainty and hurt that they’re both holding back. She feels, rather than sees, his sigh and casts around desperately for something to lighten the mood.

“Funny,” she huffs a laugh, “Longest sleep I’ve ever had and I feel like I could use a nap right about now.” All traces of melancholy hidden, he grins at her; boyish and charming and something aches in her stomach for all the time she lost with him in which to watch him grow and evolve into the spectacular man he is today – time she’ll never be able to get back.

“Come on.” He pulls her by the hand back to the window and settles down on the cold metal floor, her hand still in his resting on his thigh, sending warmth all the way down her arm to her whole body. They sit in contemplative silence for a few minutes.

“Do you think we’ll be better, this time round?” she asks quietly despite her previous disinclination to talk about anything gloomy, she can’t help but seek reassurance that he still has hope that they won’t make the same mistakes and underneath that; a subtle, unspoken question of whether they both will be able to find their way back to each other across the chasm of misunderstanding and miscommunication and six long years apart that had opened up between them.

“We have to. For – for Monty and Harper and everyone else we’ve lost along the way.” He says earnestly. “We have to. We will.” He pauses to swallow and glances at her from under his lashes and answers her “We have each other.” She nods, and this time even her natural cynicism can’t dampen the flare of hope she has for their relationship to mend and take them back to when they trusted each other implicitly.

The silence between them is companionable and easy, despite everything unsaid and hanging in the air. She’s able to study him for the first time since he returned; the indentation between his brows has smoothed, his shoulders were more relaxed, his movements freer and less tight. The mantle of responsibility still lay heavy his shoulders but the blame he used to carry had been shrugged off. The darkness in his eyes had gone, and though there is deep sorrow, there is also a brightness to his gaze that hadn’t been there six years ago, a galaxy unveiled in his tired eyes.

“I really am sorry, you know.” She murmurs quietly, half hoping he was too preoccupied in his thoughts to hear. His gaze catches hers and the vulnerability in them makes her breath catch in her throat. “There wasn’t enough time to – to think. I had to protect Madi.” His thumb strokes across her skin, giving her the strength to carry on and let her walls down. “I didn’t think Octavia would actually…” he gives a sardonic, bitter laugh.

“Yeah, bit of a hard pill to swallow when the sister you’ve given up your whole life for sentences you to death.” She can hear the undercurrent of anguish in his voice and she can’t stop herself from surging to him and taking him in her arms, bodies pressed together, her nose resting in the hollow of his throat, his head resting on the crown of her head.

“You deserve so much better than her.” She says fiercely, slightly muffled by the warmth of his bare skin. “You deserve…” she trails off, unable to find words to articulate just how incredible she thinks he is. “You deserve the world.” She finishes lamely, aware of how meagre it is, but the way his embrace tightens around her, like no one’s ever told him this before makes the hole in her chest widen. God, she wants to press her hands to his chest and push all the love she has for him into his skin so he will never forget it. “You deserve someone who adores you and knows what an incredible man you are. I hope Echo is that person for you.”

He clears this throat awkwardly and pulls away from her slightly, hands settling on her shoulders.

“Actually, Echo and I broke up.” She makes a small, shocked noise, searching his eyes for any sign of pain, feeling wretched for the wave of happiness and relief. “It just wasn’t working. Not with… everything else.”

“Oh, Bellamy. I didn’t know.”

“It is what it is.” He shrugs, and pulls her closer again. “Everything changed when we got to the ground.”

She tries not to let this knowledge change anything, but she can’t help but be hyper-aware of every point of contact between their bodies (of which there are many – she’s practically sitting in his lap). That same feeling of electricity hums under her skin and she grows hot when his hands brush the small of her back.

“I still can’t quite believe you’re here.” She says in a whisper, and hesitantly brings her hand to cup his jaw in the same place that – just a few short days ago – she had slapped. His rough stubble abrades at her sensitive palm. She can’t help the thrill that goes through her as, despite herself, she imagines what it would feel like on other, more sensitive parts of her.

“Madi told me you used to talk to me on the radio.” His voice is gentle but even so, her face burns at Madi laying her soul bare for him to see. “God, Clarke. If I’d known you were alive, I wouldn’t have stopped til we fixed that radio. I’m so sorry-”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry…” He places a finger to her lips, quieting her and she looked at him in surprise.

“Don’t apologise again. We’ve both done things that we would take back if we could. We can’t change the past, we just have to make a better future.” She swallows as the magnitude of his words hit her. He was granting her – not forgiveness, exactly – but a chance to prove herself to him and earn the trust that he had already given back to her.

In the light of the two suns, Bellamy’s eyes are sparkling, the golden light revealing flecks of amber. His eyes dart to her lips and self-consciously, she licks them, watching as his pupils blow wide.

She wants to lean forward, let their lips meet. She’s tired of fighting this magnetic pull between them but she doesn’t want to ruin the fragile, tentative balance they’ve found. If it was a choice between having Bellamy in her life as friends, or not having him at all, she’d choose his friendship every time.

“Clarke,” he breathes, and his voice is shot. Clarke has to dig her nails into her palm to ground herself, remind herself of all the reasons that this shouldn’t happen. But, Echo was out of the picture now and even though they’d both hurt each other more than they’ve ever done before, after laying it all out in the open, she knows it was never a question of whether they would find their way back to each other, only whether they would take the long way round or the short way. There was nothing in this world – in this universe – that would keep the two of them apart, not when they had both proved time and time again that they would fight their way back to each other through battles and betrayals and heartbreak. Bellamy was right, all they needed was a bit of time to just be Bellamy and Clarke.

But it was her who would have to take the first step, the first risky jump into the unknown. For all the times that she’d taken the first step away from him, all the times she’d turned her back and left him, it was her turn to take that first step towards him.

She presses her lips to his so gently it’s barely more than a brush of skin. She pulls back and stares at him searchingly. His hand comes up to cup her head and he pulls her back in for a deeper kiss, lips opening under hers, tongues sliding against each other desperately.

“It’s not too soon after Echo?” she asks against his mouth as she breaks away for air. She can taste his chuckle as he presses soft kisses against the corner of her lips.

“It’s been a hundred and twenty-five years, Clarke.” He murmurs. “And six years before that, and God knows how long before that.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Clarke. How could you not know?” and she did, she does. Six years ago, she knew without a doubt that he felt the same as she did. Six years ago, she saw the same love and admiration in his eyes that she felt in her chest every time she looked at him. Six years ago, she thought they would have had half a decade for them to reach their inevitable conclusion and their new beginning. But six years happened and so much had gone wrong after their reunion. She can’t help the burn in the back of her throat at the incomprehensibility that he’s loved her through it all, just as long, just as deeply as she does him. She burrows her head into the warm skin of his neck before he can see her eyes growing red.

He can sense her tears and nuzzles into her hair.

“What’s wrong?” he urges.

“I just… I love you.” She confesses, like it was ever a secret. His fingers clench on her waist and he brings one to tilt her face up so he can kiss her again, deep and searing.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too.”

Clarke draws his lower lip into her mouth, sucking with enough force that it makes him shiver and groan. His hands work their way under her shirt, deft, calloused fingers exploring the divots of her spine.

“I want this off.” He murmurs distractedly as his lips map out the expanse of her neck. He growls when her fingers twist tighter in his curls and she barely pulls back enough to let him wrestle her top off her.

Her heart beats unsteadily in her chest as he gazes at her, full of adoration and openness. She wants to say something, wants to tell him everything she’s kept locked up for so long, but no words will do justice to the enormity of her emotions, so she just pulls him to her again and locks his lips in hers, nibbling and licking, trying to pour the depths of her love into his mouth so he will taste it.

He hauls her onto his lap so she’s straddling him, wrapping his arms around her like a vice so tight she almost can’t breathe. She feels close to tears again, not quite able to process that he’s here, he’s in her arms and she can touch him like this.

“I love you.” She repeats, stroking the dimple of his chin affectionately and her eyes are so soft and so blue and heartache and happiness bloom in his chest. He can’t find his voice to return the sentiment so he presses a light, lingering kiss to the swell of her breast, right above her heart. He mouths his way to her nipple and takes the bud of it into his hot mouth over the threadbare bra. He sucks lightly and she arches into him, unable to quell the moan that slips out.

Suddenly, she needs to feel Bellamy’s skin on hers, needs to feel the reality of his presence, let his skin burn itself into hers and she tugs at his shirt until he lifts his arms obediently for her to toss it away.

Softly, like he’ll disappear if she touches him too hard, she traces the lines of his muscles, swallowing his huff as she traces over his nipples and mesmerized at the way his abs twitch under the gentle scratch of her fingernails. When she reaches the soft trail of dark hair under his belly button, he takes her hand and presses it to his lips, not quite kissing, just holding it there so she can feel his breaths, coming unsteady and shaky. His chest feels hollow and full all at once and he wonders how he can feel such contentment and sorrow at the same time.

“I missed you, so much. Every day.” And really, there is nothing she can say to that. She missed him too, so much she ached with it but he knows, and she knows and now all there’s left to do is to speak out loud everything that was raw and bleeding inside them so they could heal.

He runs his hands gently down her arms and up her torso, over the swell of her breasts, mesmerized by the soft skin of her and she sighs dreamily against his mouth. He can’t help but rock up into her, seeking friction and her sigh turns into a gasp as she feels his hardening cock against her centre.

“Bellamy,” she whimpers into the skin of his temple and he silences her with a scorching kiss. His hands snake around her back to work at the clasp her bra and he pauses to pull it away from her body, air leaving his lungs in a soft whoosh as her breasts are bared to him, nipples flushes and beaded. When he meets her eyes, his gaze is tender and soft and something in her heart feels bruised with longing.

“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters as his teeth nibble the sensitive skin, hard enough to leave a mark “I can’t believe I get to…” he trails off, closing his mouth over her nipple and caressing the other between his finger and thumb, watching her expression to see what she likes. Heat builds between her legs, the slow working of his hands and mouth not nearly enough sensation for her. She bucks her hips against him, feeling him hard and hot underneath her.

“Bellamy, I need – I need –“ she rocks faster desperately searching for the right angle to soothe the ache between her legs, but Bellamy places firm hands on her hips to slow her movement.

“Shhh, s’okay. I’m gonna take care of you.” He breathes.

She bites at his chin, hoping the dirty flick of her tongue over the cleft and the hard sucking will encourage him to speed up, to lose control a little but when her hand snakes down to dip below the waistband of his trousers and jerk him off, quick and hard, he grasps her face in his and peppers kisses lightly over her jaw.

“Wait, let’s just…” Bellamy trails off against her temple, unable to express what he wants, but she slows down and searches his eyes and seems to understand anyway. He wants to savour this moment, wants to etch it into his memory, wants to catalogue her every gasp and moan and shiver, wants to memorise exactly where he should touch her to make her twitch against him. He wants to hold her in his arms and never let go, he wants to climb inside her and make a home for himself in her chest, like she has in him. He wants to touch and touch and be touched and pour every ounce of himself out for her to see. He wants so much he burns with it.

When he looks up and meets her eyes again, he has to bury his nose into her heaving chest, breathing in her scent, unable to face the raw honesty and love. He busies himself with tracing a path across her collarbone with his tongue instead, sparks racing down his spine as she rubs his scalp with her fingertips.

They kiss again, a slow, sweet slide of tongues, biting and sucking. He lets himself get lost in her again, the slow roll of their hips keeping pace with their kisses, the friction maddeningly sweet; too much and yet not enough at all.

Soon, Clarke can’t stand it, the pressure between her legs too much to bear. She kneels enough that he can pull her leggings down. He ducks down to nose at her bellybutton as he does so, then dips his tongue inside so that she gasps with it. She has to do a weird, awkward contortion to remove her leggings completely whilst not breaking contact with Bellamy, but when his fingers brush over her wet cunt, she grasps his shoulders and dips her forehead down to rest on his. His fingers circle her clit, and she keens, low and lingering, keyed up so much that even just his gentle touch makes sparks fly behind her eyelids.

“I want your dick inside me.” She gasps as his fingers just barely dip into her entrance. She urges him to lift his hips so she can slide his pants down and when his cock springs free, she takes a moment to trace the vein with her fingertips reverently. His harsh gasp punctures the air, hand flying to her hip leaving a smear of her own wetness on her skin and she lets herself smile, meeting his eyes.

He pulls her to him again, resting his head in her neck, feeling her pulse against his temple. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here, I’m alive, it beats against his skin, and God, he thought she was dead for so long, but she’s not; she’s here in his arms, alive and warm and soft and pliant under his hands. If his eyes grow glassy with tears, she doesn’t mention it, just presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose as she positions herself over him, hovering, the head of his dick just barely brushing her centre.

“Clarke,” he exhales, that one word loaded with so many things she can’t begin to comprehend.

“Bellamy,” she responds softly, and sinks down on him, taking him completely.

She’s slick and tight and mind-numbingly warm. His mind blanks out for a second. Her arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair and he just wants to hold her and never never never let go.

“God, you feel so good,” she pants and jerks her hips so that he drags inside her.

They find a rhythm, her barely lifting off him enough for him to thrust back, instead just soft rocking of hips so he’s nudging a spot inside her that makes her vision spotty. She clenches around him and he moans with it, biting his lip to try and regain some semblance of sanity as she murmurs his name like a prayer.

Clarke begins to lose track of time, lost in the grind of his pubic bone against her clit and how the head of his cock is angled in just the right way to drag against her in just the right place. Her vision begins to grow hazy, her awareness narrowing down to just them, just this; Bellamy’s heavy breaths against her neck, his arms banded around her waist, holding her impossible close, the slick of sweat and her own wetness between them.

Her orgasm creeps up slowly, a fire in her belly that grows and grows until it encompasses her whole body, warm and slow like syrup. She’s clenching around him, breath stuttering in her chest and it’s drawn-out so much that she doesn’t know when it begins or ends, only that it grows hotter and more intense when she feels him twitch inside her, spilling out into her while his hands press so hard into her hips she knows they’ll leave marks.

They stay joined for a while, nuzzling into each other, basking in the afterglow. When she lifts off him, Bellamy hands her his t-shirt to clean off and then raises his chin expectantly with half lidded eyes for a soft, lazy, satisfied kiss, and they dress languidly, grinning at each other stupidly as they hand each other pieces of clothing.

“We’re okay, right?” she prods once they’re standing next to each other fully dressed once again. He tugs on a loose, sex-mussed strand of hair and nods.

“We’re okay.” He promises. “We’ll all be okay.”

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarkefanfiction #bellarke fanfic #bellarke #the 100 fanfiction #*#piniNG #SO MUCH PINING FOR SOMEONE WHO'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU #reverent touches and life affirming sex and a lot of feels

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gadgetgirl71 · 3 years

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Top Ten Tuesday 2 March 2021

Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:

Characters Whose Job I Wish I Had

(maybe not even because the job sounds fun, but maybe the co-workers are cool or the boss is hot?)

Daisy’s Run (The Clockwork Chimera #1)

I’d like to be Daisy I think she is a cool character and she has an interesting job on a spaceship that’s heading back to earth.

Synopsis: Life in deep space could be a drag sometimes, but Daisy supposed things could have been worse. They were still alive, after all, which was always a plus in her book. Now if only she could figure out who, or what, was endangering her return home, things would be just peachy.

It had been one hell of a way to start the day––being rudely snapped from a deep cryo-sleep, and in the middle of a ship-wide crisis to boot––but Daisy was pleased to note that the ship had not decompressed, the crew hadn’t been blasted into space, and, most importantly, they hadn’t simply blown up. At least not yet. So, they had that going for them, but being stuck on a damaged ship in the inky depths of space as it limped toward Earth was not exactly the relaxing trip home she’d imagined.

With the powerful AI supercomputer guiding the craft beginning to show some disconcerting quirks of its own, and its unsettling cyborg assistant nosing into her affairs, Daisy’s unease was rapidly growing. Add to the mix a crew of mechanically-enhanced humans, any one of whom she suspected might not be what they seemed, and Daisy found herself with a sense of pending dread tickling the periphery of her mind.

Something was very much not right––she could feel it in her bones. The tricky part now was going to be figuring out what the threat was, before it could manifest from a mere sinking feeling in her gut into a potentially deadly reality.

Dark Lover (Black Dagger Brotherhood #1)

I think it would be really exciting to be Beth Randall as she eventually becomes the Queen and is surrounded by sexy elite vampire warriors.

Synopsis: The only purebred vampire left on the planet and the leader of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, Wrath has a score to settle with the slayers who killed his parents centuries ago.

But when his most trusted fighter is killed — orphaning a half-breed daughter unaware of her heritage or her fate — Wrath must put down his dagger and usher the beautiful female into another world.

Racked by a restlessness in her body that wasn’t there before, Beth Randall is helpless against the dangerously sexy man who comes to her at night with shadows in his eyes. His tales of the Brotherhood and blood frighten her. Yet his touch ignites a dawning new hunger one that threatens to consume them both…

Dead Witch Walking (The Hollows #1)

I’d like to be Rachel Morgan a witch that apprehends criminal creatures from vampires to werewolves and any other magical creature that breaks the law.

Synopsis: Forty years ago a genetically engineered virus killed half of the world’s human population and exposed creatures of dreams and nightmares that had, until then, lived in secret alongside humanity.

Rachel Morgan is a runner with the Inderland Runner Services, apprehending criminals through out modern-day Cincinnati. She is also a witch.

Used to confronting criminal vampires, dark witches and homicidal werewolves, Rachel’s latest assignments – apprehending cable-stealing magic students and tax-evading leprechauns – have prompted her to break her thirty-year contract with the I.S. and start her own runner agency.

But no one quits the I.S.

Marked for death, Rachel is a dead witch walking unless she can appease her former employers and pay off her contract by exposing the city’s most prominent citizen as a drug lord. But making an enemy of the ambiguous Trent Kalamack proves even more deadly than leaving the I.S.

Dead Witch Walking (The Hollow #1)

I think Ivy Rachel’s friend and colleague would be a really cool person to work with along with Jinks. Who couldn’t love Jinks?

Rachel Morgan is a runner with the Inderland Runner Services, apprehending criminals through out modern-day Cincinnati. She is also a witch.

But no one quits the I.S.

Flatlines (Medicine & Magic #1)

I think Kate has an interesting job being an ER Doctor who sometimes uses a bit of her magic to help people recover. Not that I’d be any good at her job as I can’t stand the sight of blood!

Synopsis: I hide from death trying to save lives, but I can’t hide from my magic forever.

I’ve avoided the magic on the this side of the Veil, staying within the realm of the nonmagical while training as an ER doctor. It’s a way of hiding my dark magic from the mage council. If they discover my type of magic, the chances are good they’ll burn it out of me, and in doing so, destroy my mind.

Everything changes when I make the mistake of saving a sexy knight of the mage council from a magical attack. Not only am I revealed to the council, but when a high-ranking member of the council is poisoned, and no magical treatment is effective, I’m called upon to figure out what happened—and how to save him.

Now I’m caught up in a magical plot beyond my abilities. Survival requires I use the dark magic flowing within me, but can I do it and avoid detection? And can I learn why my magic is so different than others with dark magic?

I’m used to living on the edge of the magical world, but when I’m thrust into the heart of it, I need to use my training to protect me, or I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for.

Flatline is a fast-paced fantasy mystery with a mixture of medicine and magic that will leave you breathless.

Full Moon Rising (Riley Jenson Guardian #1)

To be Riley Jenson a hybrid Vampire/Werewolf and to be able to kick ass while protecting humans from supernatural races would be a great job.

Synopsis: A rare hybrid of vampire and werewolf, Riley Jenson and her twin brother, Rhoan, work for Melbourne’s Directorate of Other Races, an organization created to police the supernatural races–and protect humans from their depredations. While Rhoan is an exalted guardian, a.k.a. assassin, Riley is merely an office worker–until her brother goes missing on one of his missions. The timing couldn’t be worse. More werewolf than vampire, Riley is vulnerable to the moon heat, the weeklong period before the full moon, when her need to mate becomes all-consuming.…

Luckily Riley has two willing partners to satisfy her every need. But she will have to control her urges if she’s going to find her brother….Easier said than done as the city pulses with frenzied desire, and Riley is confronted with a very powerful–and delectably naked–vamp who raises her temperature like never before.

In matters carnal, Riley has met her match. But in matters criminal, she must follow her instincts not only to find her brother but to stop an unholy harvest. For someone is doing some shifty cloning in an attempt to produce the ultimate warrior–by tapping into the genome of nonhumans like Rhoan. Now Riley knows just how dangerous the world is for her kind–and just how much it needs her.

Glinda of Oz

Who wouldn’t want to be like the good witch Glinda, with her kindness, beauty and magic?

Synopsis: Peace, prosperity, and happiness are the rule in the marvelous Land of Oz, but in a faraway corner of this magical domain dwell two tribes–the Flatheads and the Skeezers–who have declared war on each other. Determined to keep her subjects from fighting, the Ruler of Oz, Princess Ozma, along with her dearest friend, Princess Dorothy Gale (formerly of Kansas), embarks on a quest to restore peace.When the Supreme Dictator of the Flatheads refuses to cooperate with Ozma, she and Dorothy seek out Queen Coo-ee-oh of the Skeezers, hoping she will be more reasonable. But the queen imprisons Ozma and Dorothy in her grand city and then traps them by submerging the whole city under water. Now it is up to Glinda the Good to save the day. She assembles all of Ozma’s counsellors–including such beloved Oz friends as the Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Cowardly Lion, Patchwork Girl, Shaggy Man, Tik-Tok, and Wizard of Oz–and they set out to rescue their friends. Will the magic powers of Glinda and the Wizard combined be enough to free Ozma and Dorothy? A rousing tale of suspense, magic, and adventure, Glinda of Oz is the fourteenth and final Oz book by L. Frank Baum. It’s a grand conclusion to his chronicles of America’s favorite fairyland. This deluxe gift edition features all twelve of Oz artist John R. Neill’s beautiful color plates, along with his nearly one hundred black-and-white pictures, making it a perfect gift for all Oz fans, new and old.

The Billionaire Needs a Bodyguard

Well to start of Lex (Alexandra) has a really cool name! But to be a kick ass private undercover security consultant protecting a sexy billionaire must be an interesting and challenging job.

Synopsis: Alexandra “Lex” Granger is a private security consultant who has to go undercover to protect billionaire businessman Michael Thornton, pretending to be an escort. Michael does not think he needs a bodyguard, despite the death threats he has received from protesters against his takeover of a Danish company, but he does need protection against the predatory wife of the Danish ambassador. Lex knows that this assignment is dangerous, made more so because her client does not even know that he is being protected.

She doesn’t know that he thinks she is a con-artist a gold-digger who takes rich men for everything that she can get. As sparks fly, and the attraction between the two go stronger, they face a deadly danger from an unknown assailant. Lex and Mike embark on a turbulent affair in the beautiful city of Copenhagen, with Mike realising that there is much more to the sexy seductress, her bewildering vulnerability evoking unfettered passion and feelings that he has never experienced before. Lex realises that she has committed the ultimate folly, that of falling in love with a man who despises her. Will she overcome the dangers to Michael to her breaking heart?

The Black Widow Agency (Case #1)

Another one with a cool name Alexandria who is a cyber geek and can uncover anyone’s secrets. I’d love to be able to do that job.

Synopsis: The misfit ladies at the Black Widow Agency aim to bring justice to wronged women like themselves using a lethal blend of technology, surveillance, and women’s intuition.

Katie, the ex-cop, appears sexy, strong and tough as nails, but is battling her own demons from the past. Alexandria, the mysterious cyber geek, can uncover just about anyone’s secrets, but has her own. Margot can cook up a storm in the kitchen, or cook up trouble with her lethal tongue. Jane crunches numbers and avoids confrontation whenever possible, but can’t avoid the incessant hot flashes that plague her.

This raucously funny group of women search for justice, but often find trouble instead.

Join them for their first adventure as they come to the aid of a woman who got set up by her ex, causing her to lose custody of her child.

Watch the ladies serve up justice Black Widow-style!

Wrong Number Right Guy (The Bourbon Street Boys #1)

Being May Wexler who ends up working with the sexy Bourbon street boys has my dream job. Who wouldn’t like to be able to surrounded with eye candy as well as being protected by them. Yes Please!!

Synopsis: When a mysterious text message summons May Wexler to a biker bar in downtown New Orleans, she knows something is very wrong. Her sister has sent out an SOS, but when May gets there, she’s nowhere to be found and May is the one in trouble—she’s wearing pink espadrilles, she’s got a Chihuahua in her purse, and she’s in the middle of a shootout.

After tall, muscular Ozzie comes to her rescue, May has no choice but to follow him to safety. At the headquarters of his private security firm, the Bourbon Street Boys, she finds a refuge for the night—and the offer of a job. But it’s not long before a gun-toting stalker isn’t the only complication in May’s life: the more time she spends with Ozzie, the less she can deny that they’ve got some serious chemistry. A wrong number got her into this mess…Will it also get her the right guy?

Until next week.

#JustForFun, #Top Ten Tuesday, #TopTenTuesday, #TTT

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riskeith · 3 years

Note

heya! <3

yes! despite everything bkdk understand each other very well which usually only happens by being around each other for so long and growing up together. not to go back to that ep again but what bakugou is basically saying throughout the episode is that he now sees midoriya as a threat (someone equal). aaah man i really miss that ep now. and that makes sense! todobaku is such a force to be reckoned with shsjsjsj. at the end of the day all those ships are great on their own. and yeah! i’d say kiribaku has been my main from the get go. i just Love their dynamic yk? how bakugou acts around kirishima just ahh.... <3

literally bruh... we have to wait a couple days for that like come on... give us the floating babies man. that sounds so cool?? he’s like towering over us? also why did that give me villain vibes? like corrupted chongyun.. yes please.. DON’T SAY THAT I’LL CRY. PLEASE DON’T SAY THAT I’LL LITERALLY CRY. ilysm just the thought ahh...

your barbara is like: ready for battle! and you’re like sweetie just gimme your bandaids please.. thank you now go back home... <3 i respect that. DILUC IS SO HOT. he’s so confident and cocky like ugrhrh 🥴 if not sexy why red themed? 🥴

no males here! feminist rights! bennett is our little special boy whom we love... <3 now that you put their names next to each other, i feel like xiangling would be such a good sidekick to the boy scouts don’t you agree? like you know how some friend groups have that one person that clicks with their dynamic well? that could be her! sjsjdksj can’t believe we’re making up whole ass headcanons about this game on tumblr asks.

that elements ranking is super legit. i agree with it mostly tbh!! maybe pryo higher though because everything burns and it’s pretty useful. i’d switch it with cryo tbh! otherwise we’d have the same ranking i believe... <3 and the diluc comment!! same!! this is based of the little characters i have and what i’ve seen on youtube tbh shskshdk so that might change when i get more characters.

oh no!! 😭 i’m actually super sad for you aaah you were so excited. hopefully you get him anyway and the gacha gods back you up hehe. honestly these 4 star characters seem so weird though? like noelle and xiangling...? that’s so odd. and no i need to save for venti i only have like 1k primogems rn so even i wanted i couldn’t haha.. i do like xingqiu but nah.

172 is super average here that’s even like... a bit on the smaller size KSKSSJSK (at least the white people ofc it’s different depending on the ethnicity) i’m not that ^ tall but i’m close! 167 cm! and god you’re so tiny holy shit my little pocket sized cluna...... you’re adorable my word 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 btw when’s your bday? just wondering 😏

notes app like the proper gay i am! i just think it’s gay culture to write everything down in the notes app tbh. (i don’t wanna say us bc i don’t know your sexuality but if you relate then change the i am to we’re hskshdskdh)

interesting. how long does your writing sessions last? do you write, write, write or do you have more of a set schedule?

i just listened to control and GOD???...... literally clone shiro tbh? can you find the edit perhaps? i’d love to see it. ok i took a break from writing this response to listen to show & tell and ooooh??? i LOVE this song instantly going to my playlist kshdjdksms. melanie has such dark pastel vibes how eerie. thank you for the recs!

yes ya books!!! i don’t think there is a series i haven’t read of those popular ones. dude i still only read ya books tbh shskdhdkdb. i find it harder to visit a library though so i can’t read as much anymore but i still love them. have you read carry on? simon and kaz has that relationship dynamic we oh so love.

xiao x venti has such a large fan base on twitter it’s so Insane. not complaining tho they look perfect together. idk if you’ve seen but look 🥺 https://twitter.com/bambzart/status/1346115096045441024?s=21 can’t believe we went from not knowing about ships to sharing daily fanart of ships shskjdjdk help

love u xx m.a.

hi hi~~

AHAH honestly talking about it makes me want to rewatch it too idk that i’ve ever done that in full.. yeah I get you! well deserved kiribaku is a good ship 😤 if not canon why so many good moments? lolol

omg wait villain vibes... corrupted chongyun.. YOUR BRAIN??????? FHDSKJFHSDKJ i legit wanna try!!! need to offer something anyway and surely changing the colour from white to black won’t be that difficult... that being said i’m still just playing the game rather than doing literally anything else lollll

LMAOOOOO yeah i really am sorry barbara.... but I really do appreciate being able to heal! since I don’t have a healder on my normal team it’s like wow? I don’t need to eat food or always visit the statues? LMFAO. HFDJFHKS IF NOT SEXY WHY RED THEMED!!!!!!!!!!! you’re so correct and you should say it .

yes!! xiangling would get along so well with them... the boys would probably love guoba too 😩😩 ugh that reminds me I saw someone say xiao’s banner should have had xiao + xingqiu + xiangling + xinyan.... could you imagine 😭😭. FSKFHDSJ look. we’re having fun and that’s all that matters!

everything burns but so do you!! hfkdsjfkhsfd. but nice nice nice you 🤝 me having the same rankings.. I’m just Attached to cryo bc of chongyun and also bc i went around with both him and kaeya in the same team for so long hfskdfjs.

yeahhh not sure LOL but people are saying they rotate the 4 star rate ups and it’s just their turn now.. hm. AHAH yes save for venti!! and then by the time he returns youll have like 200k primogems 🤪🤪

FSHDKSKJF yeah i was gonna say... i feel like people from sweden are probably pretty tall..... bc white people... HFKDSJFHDSFJKSDHFKSD. god that’s a solid 10cm+ compared to me..... wow story of my life........... hfsdkhfkdsjfhsdfks. and my birthday is october 20!! spring babie 🍃 when’s yours!!

(hfkjdshksdh it’s kinda complicated.... LOLOL but i appreciate the effort/offer hfsdkjfhsdkfjsdfhks)

hmm that kinda depends? if i have the time i’ll continue writing until it’s the AM hours and i force myself to go to sleep fhskjfds. but sometimes if i’m not particularly feeling it i’ll just stop and go to something else instead AHAHHA. (actually i do that even when i’m motivated lmfao) but yeah no actual schedule! if i’m writing a fic in response to something (a trailer, a new chapter, a new ep etc) I’ll just drop everything and write until I’m done with it. hbu?

IT IS LITERALLY!! CLONE SHIRO!!!!!!!!!!! i wish i could but i’m pretty sure it got deleted :(((( i had it saved back in the day but could never find it again so :(((((( fdhskfjs she does!! like it’s definitely a different mood for sure.. and no problem! it makes me happy you liked them 🤗

FJSFLJDKS i mean they’re good tho so makes sense 🤪 oooo do you always borrow your books? and no i haven’t!! but i’ve heard so many good things about it....... (have you read the legend series? i don’t think it’s as popular as the other YA novels out there but it’s definitely one of if not the top favourite of mine)

AHAHAH that’s what we call growth and character development! hfdskfs. and yeah i’ve seen that one!!! i remember twt going crazy that day over xiao and his flute.... also look at this https://twitter.com/yilong0416/status/1348383649050324992 <33333 (if you ever want ship arts of a ship - mostly xiaoven lol lmk i have some bookmarked!!)

loveee u 2 <33 c.r.

#marriage anon #wowclunaanswers #long post

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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years

Text

Chapter 11; Life in Wakanda

And here we go guys the first official bonus chapter and this is all I have for you guys right now until the end of my first semester of college. I hope to post the next chapter within the next few weeks but if not I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story and until the next chapter when we all meet again :)

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Wakanda. On the outside in the face of the public, it’s known as a third world country. Filled with textiles, shepherds, the strongest metal on earth, and to some people, very cool outfits. But as we all know, everything is not what it seems at first glance.

For behind closed doors, Wakanda holds a sacred jungle where the best known warriors and spies train, it is also where they build the most highly valuable technology and scientific instruments far advance than any other country in the world. And it is here that the Wakandan jungle also hides another secret.

Running through the jungle was the famous warrior the Black Panther. The Black Panther also known to a certain few, was also the King of Wakanda T’Challa. He lept over logs and rolled over steep hills as he ran as fast as he could for chasing behind him was a giant figure.

The sound of the leaves shaking as the beast chased after him, getting closer and closer. But due to the thick jungle brush and the black fur it had, the beast was all but unseen by T’Challa but he could hear it panting and growling behind him. T’Challa knew if he let this beast catch him, he’d be dead.

Quickly thinking, he saw a tree up ahead and began climbing it. Once he was high above the trees, he kept skillfully lept over branch to branch. T’Challa almost appeared like an Elf with his gracefulness as he skillfully and swiftly lept over each branch and even managed to leap from one tree to the next.

But T’Challa became so distracted that he didn’t notice he was about to step on a branch that was showing the early signs of rotting and as soon as he stepped on it, he came crashing towards the ground but he managed to catch himself by rolling forward and getting back up on his feet. When he looked behind him, he knew he was dead.

The beast lunged at him and knocked him towards the ground and snarled in his face.

‘This clearly isn’t the same kitty cat who tried to hunt me down’. A voice came from the beast that stood over him. Of course this was no ordinary beast, in fact she wasn’t a beast at all, and can you guess who this creature really is?

Yep, it was me. (Y/n) (M/n) Maximoff, the former Bad Wolf but now renamed Mother Wolf Raksha.

“Clever girl, but if the branch hadn’t break, I would’ve had the upper hand” T’Challa stated as he reached behind his head and took off his Black Panther helmet. I released my paw from him and he stood up and as the two of us walked I said to him.

‘But you were running downwind of me, my sense of smell would’ve still easily located you. Not to mention I’m not an ordinary wolf. I could’ve easily used either my super bark or my resonance howl to get you down either way’. I guess I should explain why I can talk to T’Challa without having to turn back human.

It’s been less than a month since the events of Civil War and ever since I had been here, T’Challa had asked his sister and her team to develop a new collar for me with I turn into my wolf form, the collar is connected to me telepathically so whatever I’m thinking in my wolf form, it’ll come out as words through the speakers on the collar. Think of it like the collars the dogs wore in the movie Up.

“Alright that I will admit but you remember your promise about your super powers?”

‘Yes T’Challa no need to get your kitty armor in a twist, I remember. Besides I wouldn’t even want to cause any damage to a place this beautiful’. I stated as we stopped by a nearby waterfall that looked over the rest of the jungle. ‘I hadn’t seen so much green like this since I was a child’.

“You miss your old home, don’t you Miss Maximoff?”

‘Everyday, but it was a long time ago no need to bring it up now. Come on we better get going, it’s almost sundown’. I then lowered myself down and T’Challa got on my back and I took off running back towards the lab.

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The Wakandan research and science facility, the place where all the really good stuff is made and built to help defend Wakanda’s homeland and the place that had been my home ever since the dreaded Civil War between Stark and Steve.

As we arrived at the doors, T’Challa got off my back and the two of us walked in together. T’Challa went to change while I went to the cryo-room. When I arrived, I turned to see Maku and Maz working their shift.

“Miss (y/n) welcome back” Max said.

‘Hey Maz, Maku. Have you two….’

“Unfortunately not yet Miss Maximoff, but we promise we’re trying our best in finding a way to help him”. Maku said. My ears lowered showing my sadness as I turned towards the cryotube that held my brother James Buchanan Barnes.

“We’re so sorry” Maz began but I told them.

‘No, no I understand, I just hope we find a cure soon and not make him wait another 70 years just to be healed. He doesn’t deserve to remain in a frozen prison forever, he didn’t deserve anything Hydra did to him, and I myself would know that all too well’. I stood before Bucky-bear’s cryotube and placed my head right against it as I heard T’Challa’s voice say.

“We’ll help him Raksha, one way or another. We’ll help Barnes regain his lost memories, until then he has you to protect him”. I nodded then he continued, “Get some rest, you’ve earned it. And I thank you again for helping me with my endurance training Miss Maximoff”.

‘No prob, though I wouldn’t call it training if I keep catching you. I’ll say you pass my class whenever you finally outrun me your highness so I expect to see you a week from Tuesday, 6am sharp’. I stated to him making him and the others chuckle.

“Goodnight Raksha” he said before he left the facility.

‘Goodnight your Highness’. I then turned to Maz and Maku and told them to take their dinner break, I could keep an eye on Bucky and knowing my promise I had made that day, the two of them left to go eat their dinner.

I set myself down and lay in front of Bucky’s cryotube and said to him.

‘I promise Bucky bear, we will free you of Hydra’s grasp once and for all’. I then laid my head between my front legs and decided to go to sleep after a long day’s training as well as patrolling the jungles keeping out any intruder that may get a little too curious for my liking.

The next day it was now early afternoon and I had decided to just wander around the jungles just to get a change of scenery from the lab and so I found me a good spot nearby one of the many rivers that was surrounded by what felt like an oasis.

“It sure is beautiful here, isn’t it Wolfie?” I smiled and lowered my head and said.

“It sure is Big Grey, I wish you could really see it with your own eyes though”.

“But I can see it, though you Wolfie”. I turned to Pietro and smiled softly.

“I’m sorry that I broke my promise, I know I vowed to stay by Wanda’s side but I—”

“She understands, as do I. Barnes is the only one who ever truly understood the pain Hydra ever caused you. That’s also why you called me here”.

“What do you mean?”

“You can fool many people (y/n) but you can’t fool me, not even back zhen I was alive. You and I both know I come to you whenever you’ve felt alone and broken, so just come clean and say it”. I sighed solemnly and turned away from him.

Pietro was right. Ever since the Civil War and after Bucky went into the cryotube, I have been seeing a lot of Pietro lately and I knew it was because I wanted a friendly face to talk to about my heart’s true desire.

Sure T’Challa and his people have been kind to me, allowing me to stay here and even train me as a part time Dora Milaje, but none of them seem to really want to sit down and have an honest heart-to-heart talk.

They were either too invested in their work, busy ruling a kingdom, or were so focused in their training and protecting the king that they think it’s inferior to even have a sentimental side and talk, especially Okoye.

Now I don’t know what her deal is exactly but it seems like she’s refused to allow herself to appear sensitive or show feelings like love or happiness, just the duty of protecting the king.

So in the end, my mind has produced Pietro to come to me and that gave me someone to confide in, even though no one else could see him.

“I just don’t know what else to do Big Grey. I know finding the way to help Bucky isn’t gonna come just like that but I—I just want someone to talk to without being looked at like I’m going insane”.

“I understand your pain Wolfie I truly do. I wish more than anything that I can be there for you, but I am only a figure in your heart. Barnes will be saved, and the doctors are doing everything they can right?”

“I guess”.

“Then have faith in zhem sestra, believe in them, they won’t let you down”. I could see Pietro reach out for my hand and saw him place it on top of mine but of course being a figment of my imagination I barely felt anything. I remembered his touch but it just wasn’t the same when he was alive.

“I’m sorry Pietro”.

“You have nothing to apologize for Wolfie”. When I looked up again I saw that Pietro was gone. I looked out to the jungle and sighed solemnly once again before leaving to start my 3 hour training with the Dora Milaje.

3 excruciating hours later, I came into the lab with aching everything, there wasn’t a place on my body where I wasn’t sore. I won’t go into detail but this girls are stronger, and more brutal than even Nat was. I got into my bed and groaned in agony and just stayed there as I looked out to see the sun just beginning to set.

So yeah, that’s pretty much how my days are here in Wakanda, training in a new fighting style, patrolling the jungle when T’Challa’s too busy being king, and remaining in the lab talking and guarding Bucky.

#captain america civil war #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x teen reader #steve rogers x teen reader #wanda maximoff #bad wolf

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[SF] Vaporwave Therapy for the Weak-Willed... Or, simply: Stronger

Dallas folded the paper note back up and placed it on his night stand before falling to sleep. It lay there, next to him, all night. When he woke up, it stayed there on his nightstand while he took his shower, got dressed, and eventually headed to work. When he locked his door and closed it on his way out, the note was still laying there, a small piece of paper, folded in half.

His drive to work felt normal. Dallas got to be himself, play the soundtrack to his morning and let it drive him. He nodded his head and sang too loud with the windows down. He smiled out the window at the sun. Today would be different. He would make sure of it.

“Good evening, doctor!” Athena cheerily greeted Dallas as he walked into the lobby of the 91st floor.

“It’s the morning, Athena…” Dallas said, pausing.

“I’m sorry doctor, Daylight Savings Time always seems to throw my programming off, I will re-synch my internal clock to the company server’s clock immediately. Additionally, Mr. Fukunaga left a message on your voicemail approximately half an hour ago. I will make sure it autoplays as soon as you get into your office.”

“Thanks Athena, do you know when my first appointment is?”

“Ahh yes, doctor, your first appointment is… No wait, that is Doctor Horvath… Hmm, that one as well… It looks like he is actually taking three this upcoming hour, I had no idea how he plans to do that… Goldfarb, Dukes, and Kerfling. You don’t have one until 12 actually… However, I will make sure that you take priority on the queue for any walk-ins this hour as it seems that all fourteen of the other doctors are booked.”

Dallas momentarily clenched a fist that he released instantly. Today wouldn’t be like yesterday.

“Thank you, Athena.”

Dallas headed to his office, he hung his jacket on the hook behind the door as he shut it behind him. It was only a small space, an eight foot by eight foot square, but it was his space. And he had hanged up three different signed prints of the Simpsons, now on its 105th season. Besides, how many other precocious 26 year old Cyber Therapists had their own office? Probably not many. Dallas actually didn’t know. He and his friend Kit, who was also another therapist here, had both gone to school together. So, in this building, definitely only those two. The small office was cool.

Like Athena had said, Mr. Fukunaga’s message began to play as soon as he got to his desk.

“Good morning Doctor, this is your boss, Charles Fukunaga. Ahem, yes, well, after our conversation yesterday, I trust that you will be working your hardest this week to meet the expectations summary that I Net-Messaged over to you. I’ll be checking in with you later to see how things are going so expect another call. Fukunaga out.”

Dallas sat at his desk for a moment, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. One hand slowly clenched and unclenched over and over for a minute.

Goddamnit.

A short knock rapped at his door followed by the door opening almost immediately.

“Dallas, buddy!”

“Horvath, hello.” Why’d even you knock if you just planned on walking in?

“Hey, so are you coming to my party Wednesday night? It’s going to be at Dave and Buster’s! And I gotta tell you, I think I’m going to eat my own weight in cheese sticks!”

Be stronger.

“Horvath, look, I don’t want to go. So I’m not going to.” Dallas forced himself to look up from his computer and meet Horvath’ gaze. Horvath held it for a moment, he really did, but then he looked over at the Simpson’s print of them dressed like The Beatles crossing Abby Road. It was signed by former US President James Buchanan’s last living relative who bore no connection to The Simpsons but it was impressive all the same.

“Dallas, buddy, look you gotta come! If you don’t then Kit won’t and if Kit won’t then Jaime and Alex won’t! Please! It is my birthday.”

Get what you want.

“Horvath, you have three clients coming to see you in 15 minutes.”

“Oh yeah, you’re trying to pick something up from the master, eh? Alright, I’ll let you in on how I run it, I give them each 17 minutes and I count their time in the warm-up chamber and their times in the cryonics bath all as a part of the appointment. I only spend a little more than a quarter of an hour on the holo-therapy for each of them. Pretty sweet scam, huh?”

“No, I can’t imagine the Ethics Department for Fukunaga Mental Health and Ameridata would be happy about something like that.” Dallas had trouble pacing himself here, “I want you to transfer Kerfling to me. Tell her that you messed up the schedule and that you need me to substitute. You do that and then I’ll go to your party. See, we both win.”

“You… Dick!... Fine. But not cool and you’d better bring a gift!” Horvath huffed as he slammed the door behind him.

“I won’t.”

Dallas exhaled deeply, relief jetting through him, racing against the impossible pace of blood pumping alongside it. It had worked. He had worked. It was working! He had already gotten more than what he had started the day with!

Dallas hit down on the intra-office page system, “Athena, when Mrs. Kerfling gets here, please just go ahead and page me when you set her up in a therapy chamber. Dr. Horvath realized the mistake in his over-booking and requested my help with handling some of his workload.”

“You got it, Doc!” Athena said back cheerily.

Dallas pulled up Grandiana Kerfling’s file on his Data-Net and reviewed it while he headed upstairs to one of the Holo-Therapy rooms. Being careful while winding his way through the labyrinthine office halls to make sure he avoided the anti-gravity wing. Even though the zero-grav environments were supposed to be contained to the pods, he swore he got nauseous every time he walked by. He signed in on Suite 14 and made ran some pre-diagnostics to make sure all of the modules loaded up correctly. Everything booted up fine, even the premium add-ons.

Dallas’ Data-Net activated a notification alert, it wasn’t Athena, it was Kit.

“Just saw Horvath and he was throwing a tantrum at one of his patients. What a baby.”

Dallas quickly messaged back so that he wouldn’t be looking at his Data-Net when Mrs. Kerfling arrived. “Yeah, I might have done that, I’ll tell you more later.”

The page from Athena popped up and Dallas dismissed it before snapping his Data-Net shut. Moments later, Grandiana was vogue-ing her way through the security checkpoint. Dallas greeted her politely, despite the fact that she seemed nonplussed about the change in therapists, and then ushered her into the Holo-Suite but he waited to engage the holograms.

“So, Grandiana—”

“You may address me as Ms. Kerfling, Doctor...?”

Decide right now, Dallas, decide to take what you want.

“You can just call me Dallas, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, Grandiana, but if you keep me at arm’s length then the therapy just isn’t going to be as effective. Now, I can call you Ms. Kerfling but you need to ask yourself how much you will really get from this session if you are so guarded.”

“Yes Doc… Yes Dallas, I’m sorry, Grandiana is fine… I just, I’m just not used to seeing anyone but Doctor Horvath.”

“That’s ok Grandiana, I understand that, but I was looking at your file and to be honest I feel like you were being slighted by Doctor Horvath anyway. I feel like you’d be much more receptive to the Dragons and Elves scenario so for this session I’m actually going to give you a free upgrade over your standard Castle Siege scenario. It is skews a little more towards fantasy then you’re used to but after reading your file I am sure that you’re more than equipped to handle the nuance of this kind of therapy. It might leave you a little more drained than usual but we will worry about that after the session, alright?”

“Oh my, Doctor Horvath has never taken this much interest in our sessions, I actually do think I am more excited about this… Very well then. Let’s run the scenario! I want to keep my sword from the Castle Siege Scenario though!”

“Absolutely, Grandiana, I can make sure that Scarblade is in the Dragons and Elves Scenario.”

“Wow, Dallas, you really did read my file, didn’t you!”

“I sure did!” Dallas chuckled as they engaged the scenario.

An hours and fifteen minutes later, Dallas had let the session run on long for a couple of reasons, the two stepped out of the Holo-Suite. Grandiana was actually out of breath but her expression read of exhausted contentment.

“That was fantastic Dallas! I thought the goblins had us for sure! What a relief it was to find out that Scarblade actually had a flame enchantment the whole time! I gotta say though, I am beat. Do you think it would be ok to schedule some extra cooldown time in the cryonics bath?”

“I won’t lie to you Grandiana, it will tack more onto your bill but as your therapist I would absolutely recommend it as well. It is good to be able to fully relax and decompress in an environment like that after all the action that you just experienced.”

“You know what, I actually don’t mind at all, sign me up for a double cryonics treatment! And while you’re at it, schedule me another appointment with you next week! I want to keep running the Dragons and Elves scenario and you’ve proven to be a much more capable therapist than Doctor Horvath!”

“I’d be more than happy too, Grandiana.” Dallas said, sending her into the cryonics room while totaling how much more the commission for all of that was going to look on his numbers. Just today’s double cryo would be a sizable increase in his numbers from last week! Horvath was an idiot, Grandiana was a whale and he wasn’t doing his due diligence to service her enough. He deserved to have Grandiana poached out from under him.

Dallas pulled out his Data-Net and saw that Kit had messaged him:

“Hey, meet me in the cafeteria for lunch after your next session! Just had the wildest experience with Chubbs!”

Chubbs was the nickname that Kit had for one of her patients who was not overweight (so the nickname wasn’t insensitive jeering). Chubbs was obsessed with Carl Weathers’ character from the Adam Sandler cinematic universe, Chubbs Peterson, the one-handed retired golf pro. He had only appeared in two films, Happy Gilmore and Little Nicky (the second appearance was really only a cameo) but Chubbs (real name Carl Dagonovich) was completely fixated. Every session with that guy was a scene-for-scene retake of Chubbs Peterson’s cinematic chronology. It hardly seemed therapeutic but the business of mental health takes many paths.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs sounds like the title of an overly-produced porn… So yeah, obviously I need to hear about this. I’ll meet up with you in about an hour and a half!” Dallas messaged back.

Dallas coded his notes on his session with Grandiana Kerfling while waiting for his next patient. But he kept glancing down at his Data-Net the whole time he was typing up the report. When Kit finally responded he spun his chair completely away from his desk to read her message.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs is also sadly the story of every time I’ve ever masturbated in front of a mirror but PIZZA JUST TASTES SO GOOD!” Kit messaged back.

Athena sent Dallas a page, notifying him that his next patient had arrived. Dallas started walking towards the Holo-Therapy Suites but he didn’t look up from his Data-Net, he just walked while typing a reply.

“Ewww… Why are you tasting pizza while masturbating in front of mirrors? Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything… I’d actually recommend you speak to Doctor Horvath because that guy is like, real good.” Dallas chuckled to himself as he typed it out.

“I meant pizza in the royal sense, stupid, obviously I don’t eat pizza while masturbating. I eat pot roast because I am a class act.”

Dallas stopped in the middle of walking to let out a short chuckle at Kit’s response. He smiled as he began typing back.

“Yeah, well have fun with your royal pizza or whatever you are doing with it, I’m about to start a session.”

Dallas snapped his Data-Net shut and watched his next client stalk through the security post. Daisuke Hernandez was a complicated man and Dallas hadn’t quite pinned him down yet but he was able to get along with him well enough to sell him a premium scenario for every visit.

“Darasu-San.”

“Hernandez-San, I trust you would like to run the same scenario today? Samurai and Banditos fight off the Giant Killer Praying Mantis?”

“Hai.”

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot planned for you, I think we’re going to make some real progress. Who knows, by the end of today’s session, I might even upsell you from your usual zero-grav pod to a electrolysis massage for your decompress and debrief regimen.” Dallas said as they went into the holo-therapy room.

An hour and two minutes later and Dallas had done exactly what he had set out to do. Dallas had filled the scenario with so much nuance and subtlety Daisuke agreed to the upcharge. Another sale, two in one day for Dallas was unheard of. This was his personal best. All because he was strong enough.

Dallas checked his Data-Net once he had sent Daisuke Hernandez on his way. He had a message from Kit that was just a pot roast emoji and he grinned at that. Another message from Athena told him that he needed to call his boss back. The grin faded slightly, but only slightly. Mr. Fukunaga wasn’t so bad, really. His advice seemed to really be helping.

“Hey, I’ll meet up with you in ten minutes, I just have to make a real quick call!” Dallas messaged Kit as he rushed back to his office.

Once he was situated he initiated the call with Mr. Fukunaga.

“Ahem, hello? Who is this?” Charles Fukunaga demanded.

“Yes sir, this is Dallas, the doctor from Branch 7 that you spoke to yesterday, I was returning your call.” Dallas responded hastily.

“Yes! Dallas! Well, yes, fantastic! I was just looking at everything you’ve accomplished today! I swear, you’ve done better just this morning than you did all last week! I see you took my pep-talk to heart then, did you?”

“Yes sir, I—”

“Good, that’s good… Ahem, you know, the company, and by extension me personally, just want the staff of all Fukunaga Mental Health branches to be happy, comfortable, and loved! I want to make sure you are as fulfilled as you can be by working for us…

Can I get real with you for a second, Dallas? Just really real and raw and uncut? I want you to be really fulfilled! Just in every, ahem, EVERY way.

You know, I’m something of an older man. I’m hitting the ass-end of my fifties now. And I’ve started something new. I’m now the… well… I’m an active participant in a polyamorous relationship with two trans-women and a hyper-sentient android with three separate personalities. The six of us are very happy and VERY fulfilled.

I just, well, I just want to make sure that you are as happy as I am. I want you to find your polyamorous six-way! Do you have that, Dallas? Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?”

Dallas hesitated. For a lot of reasons.

“No, sir, I guess I can’t quite say that I do have what you have.”

“Well, m’boy, I want you, right now, I want you to really evaluate yourself. Ahem, and I want you to take that advice I gave to you and I want you to really apply it across every part of your life. You do that and I know that you will be the best Cyber-Psycho-Therapist that this company has. You’re good at what you do but I know you can be great at what you do. Now go back out there and do what you do! Fukunaga out!”

Dallas sat at his desk, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. It seemed endless in a way. It was so empty that it was able to completely consume him and remove him from the reality of the conversation that he just had with his boss. The blank spot was comforting for just a few moments. And then he remembered that he had just told his boss that he was alone. He told his polyamorous boss that he was alone.

Goddamnit.

“I’m on my way now… I’m… This day has been weird. Be right there.” Dallas messaged Kit.

When Dallas got to the cafeteria, he looked around until his eyes landed on a secluded corner with one solitary doctor eating her lunch. Kit’s hair was down, she was peeling a fresh orange, she was wearing the white lab coat that she swore made her look “more like a doctor”. Dallas had known her for so long and she had never looked better than right that moment. She was like if his eyes could drink hot chocolate.

Dallas grabbed himself a neon meal shake that advertised “all the power of lasers in one bottle” before sitting down next to his best friend. She told him about Chubbs, he told her about Horvath, Kerfling, and even Hernandez. He left out his talk with Fukunaga. She was so happy that he was getting his numbers up. She was always happy with him. Dallas liked to chase that feeling.

“You’re pronouncing that wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re pronouncing Chuck Palahniuk’s name wrong.”

“Bullshit, I watched the special edition blu-ray with commentary and Edward Norton prono—”

“Yeah, he pronounced it wrong too.”

“Well how do you know, genius?”

Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?

“Because I met him. He signed my copy of Choke. I asked him to write in the inside cover how to phonetically pronounce his name and he did. See, here is a picture of it right here.”

Kit pulled up a picture of the book on her Data-Net and there it was, plain as day. Chuck Palahniuk’s autograph right next a pronunciation key in his hand-writing.

“Wow… Ok, well that is wild.” Dallas said, incredulously.

“Yeah, well you should know better than to doubt me.”

“I didn’t doubt you… I was just hesitant to immediately doubt Edward Norton. He just seems so smart… Also, figures that you would have him sign Choke. I haven’t even read that.”

“Yeah, well I own a signed copy that I am not going to let you borrow so good luck never reading it.” Kit laughed, her eyes always shut when she laughed, it was this moment of sincere vulnerability any time she laughed. Dallas had learned to appreciate that. She was a licensed Cyber-Therapist, any of the smart ones knew to never be vulnerable.

You will get everything you want because decided to take it.

While her eyes were closed, Dallas leaned in and kissed Kit on her smiling lips. He felt her tense up for the fraction of a second but immediately relax as she kissed him back… for almost a full second before pulling herself away.

“Dallas, what the fuck? I’m… I’m… you can’t do that! You know I’m with Jiro!” Kit was blushing, her smile was down-turned into a scowl, and her brow was furrowed. Her tone was both panicked and indignant and… yes, angry. An individual’s whose career was based around interpreting human behavior might say that this was a wholly negative reaction.

Dallas began to feel shame injected into his face and neck and start to run down his back. He felt it seep closer to his extremities with each heartbeat until he finally felt it in his fingertips.

“Kit, I’m…” Dallas trailed off. He knew there were no words that could ever make this alright.

“Please don’t tell Jiro.” Dallas said numbly. He stood up and walked out of the cafeteria while Kit was flustering. She called after him but he kept walking. He went past his office, past the Zero-Grav Pods, past the Cryo-Bath Tanks, past Athena the android assistant, down the elevator, out of the building and began to walk home. There was no saving that situation. Probably.

Dallas, Kit, and Jiro had been friends for the last 15 years. They had gone to school together as three best friends until a year and a half ago when Kit and Jiro started dating. Dallas had never had a single romantic feeling for Kit for thirteen and a half years until she was with Jiro.

Why did I do that? That wasn’t strength… That was weakness. I am pathetic.

Dallas made it home when he realized his car was still at work. And that he was still supposed to be at work. And that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to get his sales up or he would be fired. And that… No. Nothing mattered right now.

Dallas lay down in his bed, fully clothed. His eyes landed on his bedside table where he had left the note. That note that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to write to himself. Back when Mr. Fukunaga was threatening to fire him still.

Dallas reached over and unfolded the note and read it.

“Tomorrow, you will be stronger and you will get everything that you want because you decided to take it.”

Dallas tore the note into pieces, rolled over, and began to cry into his pillow.

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