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#avengers fic
merlinsupermarvel · 2 hours ago
Inked Hearts Chapter 12
Pairing: Bucky X OC
Summary: After Steve leaves, Bucky needs a change. Sam never gives up the shield and Bucky moves to LA. He meets someone at a tattoo shop. Could she be the start of his healing?
Soft! Bucky Barnes X Tattoo Artist! OC
Warnings: Light angst, mentions of death, profanity
(Endgame compliant)
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“Wake up!!”AH What the fuck?! Bucky was pulled out of his sleep by something jumping on top of him. He heard a fit of giggles erupt from above him. “Good morning Uncle Barnes!” Morgan greeted him with a big smile. Bucky playfully stuck his tongue out at the child and Morgan stuck out her tongue right back. “Guess what?” Morgan said. “What Moe?” “Mommy made pancakes and waffles!!” Morgan announced excitedly while bouncing on Bucky’s bed. Bucky gave her a smile. “Pancakes and waffles huh?” Morgan nodded her head happily in response. “Well, if that’s the case then what are we still doing here?? Let’s go!” Bucky got up and crouched down a bit so that Morgan could climb on for a piggyback ride. Morgan jumped on his back and held on tight. “FOR PANCAKES!” Bucky yelled, mimicking a war cry. “FOR WAFFLES!” Morgan yelled with her right fist in the air. They made their way to the kitchen and found Pepper at the stove with dozens of pancakes and waffles sitting on the table.
“Well hello you two. I’m assuming you’re here for the food and not me?” Pepper said with a pretend frown. “I’m here for you mommy!” Morgan told her before turning and whispering to Bucky. “But I’m here for the food too.” she told him in a not so quiet whisper. Pepper chuckled clearly having heard her daughter’s comment. “Morning Ginny.” Bucky greeted. “Good morning James.” Morgan tapped on Bucky’s arm. “Why do you call mommy Ginny? Daddy always called her Pep. It’s short for Pepper you know?” Pepper’s face slightly fell at the mention of Tony. “Well Moe, your mom’s real name is Virginia. So I call her Ginny for short.” Morgan’s eyes grew wide. “Mommy! Your name isn’t Pepper?!” Morgan asked in disbelief. Pepper smiled. “My name is actually Virginia but people call me Pepper because when I met your daddy, I told him that I had pepper spray and that I would use it on the security guards if they didn’t let me speak to him.” she replied. “Ohhh.” Morgan said. “Okay. Can I have a pancake?” Just like that her attention was brought elsewhere.
The rest of the team joined them in the kitchen a short while later. They talked and laughed as they ate. Damn these things are good. Taste just like Benny’s. Benny’s was a diner that he and Steve would go to for breakfast back before WWII. “Okay so I’m gonna be dropping Bucky off back to LA after breakfast.” Clint told the team. “You’re leaving already?” Morgan asked Bucky. “Yeah I’m sorry Moe. I gotta go back. But at least I got to spend some time with you and the team. And hey you can always visit me at my place if your mom allows. How does that sound?” Morgan smiled. “Sounds good Uncle Barnes!” She said before taking another bite out of her chocolate chip pancake.
After breakfast they all talked for a while. They told jokes and exchanged stories and the kids went off to play in the play room. “Alright, well we should get going.” Clint told everyone. Bucky exchanged ‘see ya laters’ with the team. Clint lead Bucky to the garage where Tony kept all his planes and jets. They got into a black jet and settled into the cockpit. “You know how to fly?” Clint asked Bucky. “Yessir.” he replied. Clint nodded and started up the jet. It was a smooth flight. It only took 2 hours to get there with the speed they were going. Clint arranged a space for them to land in LAX. “This is your stop.” Clint said giving Bucky a pat on the back. “Thanks for flying me back.” “Any time.” Clint replied. Bucky made his way to the door. Shit. I left the rental at Headquarters. “Hey Clint I’m sorry but do you think you could do me one last favor?” Bucky asked. “It’s the rental isn’t it?” Bucky nodded. “I got it covered.” “Thanks Clint.” Bucky said while tossing him the keys to the rental. Bucky left the jet and waited for the bus to arrive outside the airport.
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Can someone make a Loki fluff when him and the reader is on a field having a really cute picnic and it starts to rain so the reader drags Loki up and makes him dance with her in the rain. Then they have a really cute rain kiss. Can someone PLEASE do this I have been thinking about this for so long but I’m not a skilled writer.
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eloquent-vowel · 5 hours ago
05.05 "Comfortable" Bucky X OFC (#043)
Description: A series of attacks on Russian diplomats lead to Fury dispatching some members of the avengers to defend them. There they meet a very new threat- one they have never seen before.
Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC
Warnings: Canon typical violence
Thank you all for reading this far! Here is a little time skip for you and the first time some of the Avengers meet Eris. Time is probably going to be very disjointed after this part! <3
Part 4
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Bruce stared out of the Avenger's tower window, New York looked so small from up here. Looking down everyone seemed so unimportant, there were hundreds of people walking to the same place they always did, dressed in the same clothes they always wore. Were they happy with their lives? Were they living their dreams? What did they regret?
"See anything interesting Doc?" Tony's voice broke Bruce's trance. "Seen any muggings? Street fights? You know, I once saw a pigeon fly down and steal someone's sandwich right from their hand, the whole thing." Tony came into view, two cups of coffee in his hands. His eyes sparkled with the usual joy but under it all there was the slightest hint of concern.
Bruce took the offered coffee cup. "Buff pigeon."
"Perhaps it was a tiny pigeon hulk."
Bruce huffed a laugh before sipping is coffee. "The Incredible Squawk?" Despite Bruce's attempt at humour his voice came out as bitter as his coffee. Bruce watched the steam slowly rise before letting out a broken sigh. "She would have been 24 today."
Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, there was silence for a while. He had to think about what to say next, "We'll find her, Bruce. We won't stop looking I can pro-"
"Tony." Bruce turned to face Tony, the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual. "Thank you for trying to cheer me up but, let's be realistic, its been 20 years. The truth is either she doesn't want to be found or never will be."
"You are aloud to be realistic, Bruce, but don't lose hope."
The two shared an understanding stare, Bruce looked like he was going to say something but was interrupted by Natasha entering the room.
"We have a problem."
"When do we not?"
"Funny, Tony." Nat approached the two of them, she was staring down at the tablet in her hand very intently, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "A Russian diplomat was murdered at his safe house last week."
"And this concerns us how." Tony's tone was flippant.
"Because he as an informant for Shield but before he could talk he was beaten so badly they had to use dental records to confirm his identity."
Nat handed over the tablet to Tony who flicked through the photos of the crime scene. It was brutal. The guards that were put in to defend the diplomat were beaten to death, violently. It was obvious, even to his untrained eye, that whoever did this used their fists and no other weapon. Most of the guards had dents in their temples and some had broken knees. The path of the killer was followed by a nice trail of beaten corpses. Until they lead to the bedroom of the diplomat. Just like the other corpses, his body was beaten with blunt objects but unlike the others the killer really wanted to make sure he was dead. There was practically no skull that remains intact and there was blood everywhere. Tony blanched a bit and returned the tablet to Nat.
"What exactly do you want us to do? Bring a guy back from the dead?"
"No." Nat sounded tired, stressed, Tony kicked himself slightly for not being able to be serious. "We are being tasked for protecting someone we strongly suspect to being a second target." She turned the tablet around to show another angry looking man.
"Who pissed in his cornflakes?"
Nat ignored Tony. "This is Panin Rostislavovich, Russian ambassador here in America and more importantly mole for Shield. We think there is a large possibility he will be attacked at some point this week. Fury has asked that we personally see to guarding him. Something about improving relations with Russia."
"So, we sit in a room with someone and get paid for it?"
Nat just raised her eyebrow.
"Getting comfortable there, Mr. Rostislavovich?"
Tony quipped to the stern man who was currently pacing violently up and down the length of the room. Normally he wouldn't have commented on it but his footfalls were terribly annoying and Tony was nursing one hell of a hangover.
"Would you be comfortable in this situation? Would you Mr. Stark." Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes. "When your colleague has been beaten to death in his apparently 100% secure and safe house!"
"Panin, buddy, listen- we are just here on a hunch no one said for certain that they were after you."
Tony made eye contact with Natasha and Steve who were standing guard by the door. They both shook their heads, no signs of intrusion at the moment. They were in direct contact with the guards outside the house and inside of the house, if Tony said so himself, this place seemed pretty impenetrable.
"Team Delta. Team Delta, report."
Him and his big mouth,
Nat's voice was panicked as she began to check in with all the teams around the perimeter of the house. She got more and more intense with each team name.
"No one on the perimeter is responding. Tony get him to the safe room, be ready to take the back exit."
"You don't have to tell me twice, come on buddy, let's not get you killed."
With that the escorted Panin to the solid metal safe room leaving Steve and Nat to do what they did best, beat people up.
Natasha turned to Steve, he looked calm but the tight grip he had on his shield gave him away. The sound of fighting and violence started to be heard through the door.
"Hide and we get the jump on them." Nat whispered as she ducked behind one of the large sofas, Steve look up place adjacent to her. She began to count her bullets, double checking that she had enough ammunition.
There was silence for a moment.
Then a massive crash as the door flew off its hinges and into the wall behind Steve. She couldn't help the slight gasp that she let out as Steve slowly moved away from the rubble.
"I can hear you." A female voice, gravelly and harsh spoke in perfect Russian. It sent shivers down Nat's spine, Steve looked at her questionably. She just gritted her teeth and shot at the doorframe. She watched as Steve leapt out once she ran out of bullets. She reloaded as quickly as possible to cover Steve, as soon as she aimed her pistol over the couch she was stunned into inaction.
She could hardly keep track of who was hitting who as Steve fought the intruder. It was evident that this person was the same as Steve, they were a super soldier. Nat tried to find a pattern in their movements, an opening to fire a shot but every move they made was unexpected and chaotic. They were covered almost head to toe in black tactical gear, the only exception being their legs that reflected in the low lights of the room, metal legs? Whatever they were made of their legs were definitely strong as one well placed kick threw Steve back against the wall to joint the door.
Nat didn't hesitate to engage. Vaulting over the couch and throwing her gun by the window, she went immediately for a choke hold, swinging her legs over the other woman's neck. Nat felt some sort of pride as she succeeded to bring the intruder down to the floor, she squeezed tightly in an effort to choke them. Until the glint of metal over the intruder's fists slammed right into the back of Nat's knee, it didn't quite dislocate as intended but the force was enough to let the intruder get free.
The two women stood up once more and took a moment to size each other up. Nat realised that this woman was as tall as Steve and looked as strong. The bottom half of her face was covered in a protective mask and her hair was wild, perhaps from a previous scuffle? Now that Natasha had a good look she realised that both of the woman's legs were made of a shining metal, they whirred and clicked as she stood up. She glanced at Steve who was just beginning to stand up, clutching his ribs- the two exchanged a quick nod and together began to try and take down this new threat.
Unfortunately it was not as easy as either of them thought. Their opponent was brutal, unpredictable and yet seemed to predict every move they made. Steve would attack from behind and she was sidestep, only to throw a devastating punch at her. It was down right terrifying that one woman was able to take on both Steve and herself at once. Even worse was that this woman didn't seem to tire, while Steve and the woman were able to breathe normally Nat was beginning to falter. The intruder saw this and with one well timed switch kick Nat saw stars as a metallic leg collided with her temple.
Steve watched in horror as Nat fell, his opponent showed no sense of regret and did not hesitate to begin her brutal assault on him once more. Thrown by Natasha bleeding from the head it didn't take long for the woman to have her arms around his neck in a less than friendly way. Black spots danced in his vision, he thought this was it. He began to run through ways to get out of this but every time he struggled the edge of the brass knuckles dug deeper into his throat.
He thought he was gone until he felt her shift slightly and then let go of him altogether. He fell on the floor gasping and turned to see where the woman had gone. He saw her pick up Natasha's pistol and making a running leap out of the window. Shattering the glass into a hailstorm of chaos.
Tony had little warning other than the sound of glass shattering and the violent bang of a gunshot. The man who he had previously been talking to about his plans for the future fell to the ground, a bullet hole directly through the centre of his brain.
Tony turned around violently to just catch the sight of some meta glinting under streetlights and a figure darting off into the dark.
Fury was going to be so mad at him.
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obsessedwithseb · 5 hours ago
hey darling could you maaaaybe do 11. “I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown– shihit!!” with a peter parker and reader? we all know my love for peter is strong-
hey princess, of course i can! anything for you! <3
Not ticklish
pairing: Peter Parker x best friend!reader
warnings: fluff and tickles and a bit of threatening
words count: 834
prompt: I used to be ticklish when I was younger, but I think I‘ve outgrown- shihit!
summary: while peter and you played mario cart, he wanted to distract you so he would win, and he won twice, the race and a tickle fight.
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Peter and you, you both were really good and close friends. there's no secret unspoken between you and him, it's kind of scary how much you guys know about each other. well, not anything, but the most important things.
right now, you guys played mario cart, and you were the best known champion around the avengers, there's no race you didn't win the last times! expect you let them win...
"Y/N! play fair!" peter said while he struggled with overtaking you. you laughed evilly and threw a red shell at him. playing mario cart was always fun! you guys had bets, everytime, and everytime you won them!
"i'm playing fair! you just play bad!" you teased whereupon he gasped.
"you did not say that, did you?"
"oh i did say that!"
and after that, you felt a poke in your side, making you jolt away a bit. you just hoped he wouldn't have noticed, but he did...
"Y/N... are you ticklish?" he asked with a grin playing on his lips. your stomached dropped, that was the only thing he didn't know about you yet-
you shook your head. "I used to be ticklish when I was younger, but I think I've outgrown- shihit!" you felt peter's finger fluttering into your right side, he still played the game, but not that fair.
"not ticklish? i see." he teased and kept on going. you squirmed away, hoping he would end his torture soon.
"peheheter! fahahair!" you whined and tried to focus on the game, but peter really did what he wanted to, he wanted to distract and annoy you.
"i'm playing fair, you just play bad!" he mocked and overtook you. As he passed the finish line, you thought he would let go off you, but no, he threw his controller on the bed and straddled you down on it. your lips escaped a little surprised scream and you stared at him in fear.
“you won! it‘s okay you won! you don’t have to do this!“ you pleaded while a smirk glanced down at you, causing makes your cheeks heat up.
“don’t have to do what?“ he asked you and tilted his head.
“tickle me!“ you shouted immediately, not realizing what you‘ve just said.
“since you asked so nicely...“
“wait- whAHAHAT?!“ His finger drilled into your sides, letting a tickly sensation runs throughout veins and giggles flew out of your mouth. you haven‘t been tickled in a while, and no one knew, but after that you wouldn’t be safe anymore.
“why didn’t you tell me about that earlier? you‘re incredibly ticklish!“ he smiled and drilled his fingers a bit more into your sides, whereupon you arched your back a bit.
“behehecause ihiht’s embaharrissing!“ you giggled and tried to get rid of him, but that just made him digging into your ribs.
“i just started and i already can tell that there’s nothing embarrassing about it!“ he smiles and kept digging in.
“peheheter! plehehease stop!“ you begged, hoping he would have mercy, but of course he has not. his fingers moved all over your upper body, driving you and your giggles crazy as you squirmed underneath his weight.
“wow, does the others know about that weakness?” he asked and moved your shirt up a bit. you blushes deep red at his movement and pulled your shirt back down.
“noho they don’t and they also shouldn’t know about this!” you said, clawing into the fabric of your shirt. he smirked and hold both of your wrists in his hand and moved your shirt back up with his nose which also lightly touched your tummy.
“oh but especially mr barnes would love this information about you!” he smirked and blew a slobbery raspberry on your tummy. you laughed hysterically and squirmed from side to side as he set another raspberry right over your navel.
“PEHEHETER STAHAP!” you begged in laughter, but he still doesn’t stopped.
“it’s crazy how you react while i do this!” and again, he blew another raspberry on your tummy and you slowly went silent. he smiled at you and knew he had to stop before he would take it too far. he let you go and smiled at you, still being a giggly mess.
“i’m gunna tell them! that’s so cute!” he teased.
“do my homework” he quickly said to which you groan in annoyance.
“you said anything!” he chuckled.
“yeah alright, what subject?” you asked him, thinking he would mean only one subject.
“all of them.”
“i’ll tell them!” he threatened and smiled.
you smiled angrily at him and sat up, heading to his bag pack and getting out his homework. you would stay up all night because he really does nothing for school!
“and don’t write any bullshit! write the correct answers! otherwise i will tickle you in front of them!” he threatened again. he knows now how to put you under pressure, and he would totally use it to his advantage.
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marvelstuff-iguess · 7 hours ago
So, plan for today is to start on the second part of the Y/N Barnes fic which was requested, and I’m down to answer anymore ‘send in the first line of a fic and I’ll write the next five’ asks.
Also, prompts are open! :)
• sfw (keep in mind I’m a minor)
• platonic
• I don’t mind parent/sibling relationships with characters either, so request that if you want :)
• I can do both reader inserts or just canon characters
• I can write fluff and angst so keep that in mind too lol
• any character/s! (as long as they’re marvel :) )
• ask for specific scenarios if you want one more rules at the moment because I can’t think of any good ones :D
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 hours ago
Candy Coated 2
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), cheating, nothing much else to warn about yet...
This is dark!Zemo x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: You’ve always felt like you’re running from behind to catch up, but after a chance encounter with an enigmatic man, your life gets ahead of you.
Note: Here’s some Zemo to break up the Birch chapters, which we’ll have another of tomorrow, and more Zemo on Friday. Some breathing room for me but maybe I’ll just keep writing, hehe.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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You yawned over the new display of summer scents as you arranged the candles by colour. On the weekends, business picked up but with your new responsibilities during the week, you found it hard to keep up with the rush. 
The end of your shift would not be the end of the day. You had a stack of documents to go over before Monday and you didn’t want to be the stuttering rookie as you sat in on your first meeting. You kept up stocking as you wondered at how quickly your break passed.
You stopped as customers came in and greeted them, telling them about the two for one deal on any classic products. You went along the wall and explained to a particular curious customer about the benefits of the oatmeal soap bar.
You continued on and Cynthia bid you goodbye as she slung her bag over her arm. She was all too eager to leave you to deal with the mob of customers. You had bartered with her to re-arrange your schedule around the internship and that meant overtime on the weekends. 
You checked out several people at the till and managed to sell some of the overpriced candle holders Cynthia always pushed. She’d be happy to know that the twisted gold dishes were finally moving off the shelves. 
As the afternoon wore on, traffic slowed and you hungrily inhaled the scent of the Korean barbeque from across the road as it wafted in now and again. You regretted skipping lunch for a nap.
You leaned on your elbow, chin in your hand, ready to doze off as the cinnamon-y scent of the lip balms lulled you. Suddenly the old door creaked and you stood straight as a figure appeared on the other side of the glass and pushed inward. You blinked and shook your head as you were certain you were dreaming.
It was that man. This had to be some twisted trick. You hadn’t seen him since your first day almost a week before. You’d only heard about him in passing from the Deputy Minister and an incognito Google search. It turned out, he was rather famous among the outdated nobles.
“Hello again,” his low tones assured you he was real.
“Hello, how are you today?” you put on your chirpy customer service voice but hesitated to come around the counter.
“Very well, and you, my dear?” he asked.
“Good,” you lied and wrung your hands, stopping yourself as he noticed. You pushed your arms down and came out onto the floor, “we’re having a sale for the weekend, two for one on all classic scents.”
“Hmm, I see you sell some perfumes, you haven’t any colognes by chance?” he asked.
“No, but we sell an aftershave. Two scents, sandalwood and cedar,” you pointed him to the small section marked out for the rare male customer.
He neared and stood beside you as you grabbed the sampler and uncapped it. You offered one and then the other and he sniffed each. You put them back on the shelf and took a step back.
“I like the cedar,” he reached for the largest bottle, “any favourites? My wife might like a candle? Maybe a new soap?”
You tried to hide your anxiety as you led him along to some floral scents. Your mind raced with questions; how had he found you? Was it a coincidence? How did you keep running into him?
“She is not very… flowery,” he mused, “something, I don’t know, deeper?”
He stepped back and let you pass between him and the shelf and you went to the muskier scents. “This one is called Bali,” you grabbed the bar of soap, “it’s… a heavy scent but not too heavy.”
He smelled it and shrugged. “You know, she never really likes my gifts,” he put it back, “what about you? Do you have any favourites?”
“Me?” you almost laughed, “I don’t know, it all smells pretty good to me. Blends together after a few hours.”
“Oh, come on, you must have your preferences,” he prodded, “if you could have anything in this whole store, what is it?”
“Well, uh, we can look at something else for your wife--”
“Show me what you like,” he insisted and unscrewed the cap on the aftershave, sniffed again and hummed.
You swallowed and leaned back on your heel. You pivoted carefully and led him over to crackle candle that smelled of coconut and cinnamon. It reminded you of your mother’s baking and you liked to sniff it whenever you were alone and bored. 
“This one isn’t too strong,” you said, “I don’t mind it. These candles last ages.”
“Oh, very nice,” he bent to smell it then stood and swiped the largest size from the shelf. “Well, I think I found enough to make this trip worthwhile.”
“I’ll ring you up over here,” you quickly retreated to the counter and logged in to the till.
He placed his purchases on the wooden top and you keyed in the product codes. He swiped his card without concern and slid it back into his wallet. He paused and looked up at you with a smirk.
“A congratulations on your new position,” he nudged the candle towards you as he kept his wallet open, “oh, and uh, I thought it best this not fall into the wrong hands.”
He wiggled a card from his wallet and placed it on the lid of the candle. You stared and picked it up. It was yours. You realised you must’ve left it at the dress shop and you were too clueless to even notice. You cringed and smiled at him.
“Oh my god, thank you,” you said, “but I, uh, I can’t accept anything else from you.”
You went to push the candle back to him and he covered your hand with his, “my wife doesn’t want a candle. Keep it.”
“Please, I--”
“You know who I am, yes?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, it wasn’t hard to figure out,” you quivered and you knew he noticed as his hand lingered on yours.
“I have a habit of being generous. It gets me into trouble,” he grinned and reluctantly withdrew his hand.
“I can pay you back… for the dress,” you said, “just not all at once--”
“I don’t want your money,” he waved you off as he took the aftershave and slipped it into his jacket pocket, “but if you feel as if you owe me, perhaps you might treat me to your company over a drink?”
“I…” you were dizzy. You weren’t asked out often and usually when you were, it wasn’t by sauve noblemen. “I don’t think I…” you looked at the candle and remembered the price tag on the dress, the gift card buried in your top drawer, “I guess.”
“You close at, uh, five?” he checked his watch, “I can assume you will be done then?”
“Mhmm,” you picked at the belt loop along your plain black pants, “five.”
“I will be back then,” he assured you as he finally folded his wallet away, “there is this cute little place I passed just down the street. They have a patio on the roof. My wife hates those types, you know-- ah, well, here I am rambling.”
He bowed his head in a very antiquated manner as he pursed his lips.
“Until then, my dear,” he backed away, “let me not embarrass myself further.”
You just nodded at him numbly and when he disappeared beyond the door, you looked at the candle and sighed. You ripped the receipt from the machine and set both aside. You were still shaking as you did and leaned heavily on the shelf behind the counter. 
You were having a drink with a married man. You barely had the confidence to assume it was anything more but you couldn’t guess any other reason for his offer. You just had to be strong enough to tell him no. You hadn’t asked for any of it. Surely, he couldn’t hold his own kindness against you.
Usually, you’d be thankful for the last few hours of work to fly by. That day, the ticking of second filled you with dread. The what-ifs were met with yeah rights in your mind and yet you felt in your gut that it was more than just an innocent drink. The man had already spent enough on you to pay one month of your rent.
You locked the back door as you finished up early, too restless to leave all the little details to the end like you always did. You wrapped the candle and shoved it in your canvas bag. You locked up as you came out on the stoop, the keys slipping from your hand as you were spooked by the voice behind you.
“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” The baron asked as you bent to grab the keys and turned to look down at him from the top step.
“Slow,” you answered as you adjusted your bag and began your descent.
Two steps from the ground your heels slid on the edge and you squeaked as you prepared to crack your head on impact. The baron was quick to catch you as he hopped up the lowest step and he pulled you against him with a chuckle.
“Careful,” he chided, “first the train, now this. We can’t have you covered in scars… you’re too pretty for that.”
You giggled nervously, more a pathetic croak, and he set you straight. You pulled away from him and stepped down onto solid ground.
“Thanks,” you said as you played with the strap of your bag, “um, you know, I’m really flattered but I don’t think I should go for a drink. I have a lot of reading to do and--”
“It’s early yet. Dear, trust me, I will have you home at a respectable time,” his smiled, “you wouldn’t send me home after I spent so long waiting on you. Patiently, of course, but eagerly.”
“Well, um, erm…” you tried to think of a better excuse but his dark eyes sank into you like knives. Even if you could come up with a lie, he would likely be able to see right through like he did you, “okay, but I’m not much of a drinker.”
“One drink,” he offered his arm and you stared awkwardly. It was an old-fashioned gesture, the type you saw in period dramas. You stiffly hooked your arm through his and he turned to stroll along the sidewalk, “besides you’ve been working hard at the ministry, yes? You deserve a treat.”
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, ever the conversationalist.
He seemed content enough to walk with you in silence until he reached the bar with the brick walls painted a bright blue. He greeted the hostess cordially and had her show you to the upper tier, an open patio on the roof with a boho style bar. You sat by the edge, a view of the city sprawled before you as the sky paled in the summer eve.
He picked up the drink menu and turned it to you. “They have cocktails. Perhaps something sweet is more to your taste.”
You tore your gaze away from the high-rises and the steaming gutters. You took the leather folio and glanced inside as you felt him watching you. You sat uneasily with your bag in your lap, teetering at the front of your seat as if you would run out. You didn’t know what to order, you didn’t go out, you didn’t drink, even when Whitney and Drew begged you.
“Why don’t you put that down?” he stood and came around to take your bag from you. He set it under the table carefully and pulled his chair closer before he sat.
“Um, I don’t know…” you ran your thumb down the side of the menu, “I don’t know what any of this is.”
“Hmm, do you trust me?” he asked as he took the menu back.
“Um, I don’t even know what to call you…” you nibbled on your lip.
“You can call me Heli,” he said smoothly as he set down the leather folder.
“Well, I…”
“Let me order for you,” he said, “you just relax. Such a long day it must have been.”
You murmured some acquiescence but even you weren’t sure what exactly it was as it garbled in your throat. You lowered your chin and stared at your palm as you poked it painfully with your thumb and traced the lines. You felt jittery. He was so domineering but so subtly so that it was hard to deny him anything. Or maybe you were that weak.
He signaled to the waitress and ordered but you weren’t really sure what. At your age, you shouldn’t be so stupid, you rebuked yourself. When she went away, he turned and stretched his arm between your chairs, his hand just behind your shoulder.
“You enjoy it at the ministry so far?” he asked.
“Yeah, I…” you peeked around at the other customers. They didn’t seem to notice you or the baron. No one cared about how uncomfortable you were or that he was a married man. “It’s my dream.”
“Really?” he said as you felt a brush against your shirt, “just an intern or something bigger?”
“I don’t know,” you chewed your cheek.
The waitress returned with two short glasses and set them down. No ice in either and only thin straws with a slice of lemon with the fizzy clear liquid. He shifted yours closer and himself. He leaned in and sipped. You took yours and sniffed, wincing as you tasted it. You coughed and set it back down as you apologised.
“Tell me,” he urged, “tell me why you wanted so bad to work at the ministry. I know Georges very well and I wouldn’t line up to be his intern. I am hardly his friend most of the time.”
“You know…” you stared at the table, the bubbles rising in your glass, “er, well, it’s not likely and you know I wouldn’t hate a desk job, probably better for me but… if I could work as a diplomat, maybe…” you laughed at your own fantastical confession, “I don’t know, do something to change the world… or a little piece of that change. I’ve never been more than an hour out of this city, jeez.”
“Oh no? Travel is… enlightening and a privilege for sure but you seem very intelligent. I can only imagine you will have your share of it with Georges. A woman like you running around the world, you’ll be hard to catch,” his eyes fell from your face and he quickly corrected himself with a gulp from his glass, “you mustn’t have much time between the ministry and your work.”
“Just enough to sleep,” you said and took a drink just to keep from fidgeting.
“It might sound ignorant but I almost envy you. I never had to worry much about all that, I feel as if I haven’t had to struggle at all. It is almost an inhuman existence, not that I expect pity,” his hand settled on your back and drew circles through your shirt. You tensed and held back another cough, “but I feel as if I lack a significant perspective, something I can never know.”
“Really, it’s nothing special,” you wanted to roll your eyes, “I only wish I was born--” you stopped yourself, “well, I guess I wouldn’t know.”
“Ah, let’s not be so grim,” he sighed, “do you like your drink?”
At last, you stood from the table as Zemo lifted your bag and carried it on his shoulder. He waved you ahead of him and followed you out of the restaurant. The night air was cool but still thick and humid. The front of his hair was curling from the damp summer.
“Well, thank you,” you said as you stopped on the sidewalk, “here, I’ll take that.”
“Oh, dear, no, I cannot let you take the train so late. I will have my driver take you home,” he turned so that you could not grab your bag, “that would be reckless for both of us.”
“You’ve really done enough,” you said, “I can’t take anything else--”
“There he is,” he ignored you as the pristine white luxury car pulled up to the curb. The driver got out and came around to open the door, “ladies first.” 
“Really, I have a pass--”
“Get in, dear,” he said more firmly.
You sniffed and turned. You hated arguing. You bent and angled yourself through the car door and slid over the seat. He swiftly glided in next to you and set your bag on his other side. The door closed and the driver returned to his seat, though you could hardly see him through the tinted divider.
You rubbed your palms together and fidgeted. You stared ahead as you felt his arm against yours. You felt tired and a little dazed. Your stomach was sour from the alcohol and you hadn’t eaten since that morning. Finally, you sorted through the words jumbling through your mind.
“What are you--”
You didn’t finish the question as he grabbed your chin and turned your head. He crashed his lips into yours and kissed you hungrily. He leaned against you until you were forced against the leather seat, your body twisted awkwardly beneath his. Finally he parted and you gasped for breath as your eyes rounded at him.
“You know why I did it,” he slithered, “why I want to keep doing it, dear.”
He caressed your cheek with his fingertips. You trembled and caught his hand. You wriggled but he did not budge.
“You’re married,” you rasped.
“Inconvenient but not tragic. She doesn’t love me,” his eyes lingered on your lips, “she is cold and you are sweet.”
“I can’t--”
“She has someone else, too. She got her baby and never touched me again, never alone, only for show,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “it isn’t wrong.”
“Please, I just-- I couldn’t,” you breathed.
His mouth thinned and for the first time, he looked unhappy. His hand danced along your jawline and to your throat. He watched it and traced the crook of your neck.
“I would hate to retract such a shining reference,” he said quietly, “really, any other candidate would be enviable to have such a name attached to theirs. They’d be grateful.”
“I didn’t ask--”
“But you took,” he leaned in and his nose touched yours, “I can take too.”
He pressed his lips to yours again and you laid paralysed beneath him as his thumb stretched across the front of your neck. His tongue poked inside your mouth and you let it, you didn’t resist, couldn’t, as your heartbeat deafened you and every ounce of blood pulsed in your head.
It was too late to find your voice now.
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odetolove95 · 12 hours ago
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- “This place is meant for both of us."
- “I know."
- “You ever think what would become of me if I lose you? Because I almost did back there. You’re lucky we had Shuri on our side.”
- “Yeah... I know.”
- “I don’t think you do. You’ve always been so reckless. This wasn’t the first time you came close to death. Every time you do something stupid, it’s not you who goes through hell.” 
- “I’m sorry."
- “I don’t need your apology.”
- “Then tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything, to make it right.”
- “I just need you to stay with me. Forever. Don’t think about leaving me again.”
Short fic on AO3.
Stucky AU - Our Forever Place (2/2).
part 1
(Finally got around to finishing this. Sorry for the delay. Not my best work of art. It was a rough sketch🙈)
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sloppybicths · 17 hours ago
Pairing(s): Avengers x platonic!reader
Summary: The reader has some very unhealthy eating habits that they avoid sharing with the team. One day, however, it catches up with them and the team expresses their support and concern.
Warnings: Disordered eating, food intake restriction, mentions of body insecurities, brief mentions of nausea and vomiting 
A/N: This fic is in NO WAY meant to promote or glorify eating disorders and/or disordered eating. As with all of my fics, this is based off of my personal experiences. The feelings and things I experience/have experienced may be different from those of other people. Please do not consider this to be a 100% accurate representation of disordered eating. Everybody experiences these things differently. 
If you feel that this fic may cause you any distress, anxiety, relapse, etc. PLEASE do not read it. You know yourself best, make the choice that is right for you. If you ever want to talk about anything, my inbox is always open and I’m more than willing to talk about anything. 
135.4 lbs
The number flashed at you from the LED screen of the scale. “Ugh, it’s mocking me,” you thought to yourself. You turned around and stared at your reflection in the mirror. You stood in just your underwear, as you ran your hand over your relatively flat stomach. You had worked very hard to obtain this figure- and you were damn proud of it- when you looked in the mirror and saw your flat stomach and thin body reflected back at you, you felt a surge of confidence- you felt content. However, no one’s body always looked like that, and of course whenever you would eat a meal your stomach would expand, making that slim, fit looking stomach disappear. 
Realistically, you knew this was normal- it happened to everybody- and you also knew that if you were to gain weight, it wouldn’t be the end of the world; you would still look perfectly fine no matter how your stomach and waist looked. But it was an obsession, and no amount of logic or reasoning could assuage the immense terror and nausea you felt when you even thought about gaining weight. You were at a healthy weight for your height and age- and you weren’t anorexic or bulimic- you still ate.
However, your diet and eating schedule were terrible. And honestly, you did it on purpose. You knew that in the long run, eating (or more accurately, not eating) like this would probably have the opposite of the desired effect on your body. But you just couldn’t explain the dizziness, nausea, and anxiety that filled your body when you considered having a normal diet and meal intake. 
You were actually a little worried that you may have completely screwed up your body with your unhealthy habits. You had been doing this for years- and now, you hardly ever got hungry anymore. Sometimes you felt those aches and pangs of hunger in your stomach, but for some reason you liked it. It made you proud of yourself in some sick way, because you knew you were depriving your body of what it needed, and slowly causing your ribs to become more visible and your wrists to become bonier. You knew that something was wrong with your mind- you were sick- but you had no desire to fix it. Oftentimes, even the smell of food was enough to make you feel sick and nauseous. 
Had you lived by yourself, this would’ve been fine; however, you were a resident of the Avengers compound and were almost constantly surrounded by at least one person, if not more. This meant it was very difficult for you to hide your incredibly unhealthy eating habits. 
Most days, you forgot to eat until 3 or 4 pm; the thought genuinely slipping your mind because you just didn’t feel hungry. You had no want or need for food, so you generally forgot. Until you got a splitting headache, that is. You rarely ever drank enough water- you basically survived off of coffee. 
As a team member of the Avengers, you were required to attend training sessions several times a week. Your skills were mainly in physical combat and working with technology. You usually brought water to these training sessions- you weren’t that foolish- but the lack of substantial nutrients in your body made the sessions that much harder. 
You had periods of time when you would eat slightly more food and on a semi-regular basis. But after screwing with your body for so long, your desires and cravings (or lack thereof) for food were unpredictable. 
Today was a training day and you were set to work on hand to hand combat with Steve. You often cursed the super soldier for his intuition and knack for observing others and picking up on their feelings and concerns. This had nothing to do with Steve being a super soldier, he was just a naturally observant person; which meant that he always noticed when you felt worn down from having little to no food or water that day. 
Today was a particularly intense training day, and after 30 minutes you were already drenched in sweat. It didn’t take long before your movements and reflexes became sluggish. It was 3:30 in the afternoon at that point and you had eaten nothing but a few almonds today. Steve seemed to notice your exhaustion, and called for a five minute break. You both walked over to a table and chairs off to the side of the training area and took a seat. 
“Hey Y/N, are you sure you’re alright? Did you get enough sleep last night?” Steve wearing a concerned expression and staring at you with that intense gaze of his. You looked away from his eyes because you found it very difficult to lie when making direct eye contact with him. Something about his expression and demeanor made you feel nervous and heavily scrutinized. You settled for simply nodding. 
“You sure? You seem like you’re dragging a little today. We can take a break if you need to and come back to this tomorrow,” Steve offered. You panicked, fearing that it would raise suspicion if you agreed to that.
“No no, I’m fine, I wanna train. Come on, let’s get back to it,” you said, standing up quickly. That was a big mistake; not only were you running on no food, but you were also anemic, which meant that standing up too quickly was never a good idea. 
Your ears began to ring and you felt as though you had put your head underwater. Everything sounded muffled and distant and your vision swam before your eyes. You felt your breathing pick up and saw spots in your vision as you felt your body grow incredibly warm. Oh no- this is how your body reacted whenever you were going to pass out. You didn’t want to do that- that would DEFINITELY raise suspicion. Your brain sluggishly decided that you should try and sit back down. And with that, you collapsed to the floor, as everything went black. 
When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was a lot of bright light. You squinted, your head aching from all the lights and sounds. You groaned and rubbed your eyes, yawning. 
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up!” Tony said jovially. Your eyes were closed, but you could tell that he was smirking at you, just from the sound of his voice. 
“Y/N, what the hell happened?” another, gentler voice asked. You knew that voice- you were still groggy, so it took you a second to place who it was. Bucky, that was Bucky’s voice. Slowly, you opened your eyes and saw the entire team gathered around you, all packed tightly together. You stared at them, looking slightly dazed and confused. 
“W-what happened?” you asked, struggling to recall what you had been doing before waking up here. 
“We were training and you stood up and then just passed out. You probably would’ve hit your head if I hadn’t caught you,” Steve said, the worry evident in his voice. Slowly, it all started coming back to you and a look of complete horror made its way onto your face. Suddenly, Bruce spoke up. 
“Y/N, you passed out from dehydration and a lack of food; were you starving yourself?” he asked. You quickly turned your head towards your left to look at him. 
“No, no I wasn’t!” you protested quickly. You technically weren’t lying; you had been eating, you had just been eating in very small increments, on an incredibly irregular schedule. 
“Come on Y/N, seriously. We’re not mad at you, we just wanna know the truth. We’re worried about you,” Sam said, sounding as though he was trying to avoid scaring you off. 
“I know, I know. I promise you guys, I’m not starving myself and I AM eating. I mean look at me, have I lost any weight? I still look the same as always. I was just being stupid and forgot to eat enough before training that day, alright?” The team scrutinized you with suspicion, exchanging looks. 
“I’m FINE guys, I promise,” you said again. After a minute of silence, Bruce just sighed. 
“You need to be more careful in the future Y/N,” he said, still eyeing you suspiciously, as though he didn’t believe you were being completely honest. 
Ever since that fateful day, the team kept a much closer eye on you, especially in the kitchen and during mealtimes. You tried to follow your same routine as you usually did: take a small amount of food, eat that (to avoid getting a headache), grab something small and unhealthy with very little nutrients, make yourself some coffee, and escape to your room. But the team wasn’t having it. 
On Wednesday, Sam made some dish with rice, which he said was a family recipe. Everyone piled their plates with food, gathering around the island in the kitchen where the food was sitting. You filled your plate with a small portion- truthfully, it did look good- but today was one of those days when even the smell of food made you feel queasy and nauseous. 
You scooped a bit of rice, and you were about to head to the table, when you felt Bucky gently- but firmly- grip your arm to prevent you from walking any further.
“Nope,” he said casually, reaching around and grabbing your plate with his other hand. 
“Hey!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with irritation. He released your arm, so he could add more food to your plate- a lot more- and handed it back to you. Holy shit- there was no way you were going to be able to eat all of that- and it wasn’t just due to a fear of gaining weight. Your appetite had shrunk A LOT since you had first started restricting your eating. You honestly couldn’t remember when it started, but you knew that you definitely couldn’t eat as much food as before. Bucky seemed satisfied with himself, and you made your way back to the table quietly. 
You noticed as you sat down that your hands were shaking slightly. You hid them under the table, hoping that no one would notice. You ate the amount that you would normally eat- which was about as much as you could stomach- and left the rest of the food untouched. 
“Hey,” Tony said, using his fork as a pointer and directing it at you. “Finish your food,” he said, sounding jokingly stern. You felt like a child being reprimanded. 
“It’s super good Sam…” you said, trailing off as though you were preparing to add a ‘but’ in there. 
“Oh what, so now you’re saying my food isn’t good?” Sam said, pretending to be offended. 
“What no- I-” 
“No no it’s fine, I know what you were about to say. You were gonna say ‘it’s super good Sam, but I’m so full’ or something. The classic excuse!” he exclaimed overdramatically, as Steve and Bucky laughed at his antics. You knew he was just joking, but you were already so anxious and hyper-sensitive that you suddenly felt the burning sensation of tears build behind your eyes. Oh fuck no, you were not going to let yourself cry in front of the entire team. You blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears that were forming. Only Wanda and Natasha- bless their hearts- seemed to notice your growing distress. 
“Hey guys, cut it out,” Natasha said. Her tone was stern enough that the three men stopped their laughter and glanced over at you. 
“Hey, Y/N/N I was joking, you know that right? I know you don’t hate my cooking,” Sam said, his voice kind and gentle. You didn’t say anything, just nodding and continuing to stare at your plate. Wanda rubbed your shoulder gently. She leaned close so that only you could hear her and said,
“You okay? Do you want to go to your room?” You nodded and she got out of her seat and took your hand, helping you up and guiding you out of the room with her hand on your shoulder. The rest of the team (with the exception of Natasha) stared after you in stunned silence. As you walked away, you heard Bucky mumble,
“Wow, way to go Sam.” 
“Me!?” Sam exclaimed slightly louder. “You stole her plate!” 
“Will both of you knock it off?” Steve said. 
Several hours later, there was a knock at your door. Wanda had stayed with you the whole time, talking about your eating habits and why you felt the way you did about your body. Wanda glanced towards the door, and then back at you. 
“Do you want me to open it?” she asked. 
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s probably Sam,” you said, sounding tired. Wanda got up from the bed and walked over to the door and opened it. 
“Oh- hello- okay you’re all here,” she said, sounding slightly surprised. 
“Can we come talk to Y/N?” you heard Bucky ask. Wanda looked back at you once again, silently asking if you were okay with it. You simply nodded and sat back against your wall, clutching a pillow to your chest and hugging your knees. Bruce, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha all entered and stood a couple feet away from your bed. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Sam finally spoke.
“Hey Y/N/N, we just came to apologize for everything. I’m sorry for messing with you and I hope you know I’m not really mad at you. If anything, we’re all pretty worried about you.” You nodded and said, 
“Yeah, I know. That’s not what it was about.” You looked at your knees and began picking at a thread on your jeans. After another moment of silence, Steve said,
“Well… could you tell us what it was about? I understand if you don’t want to, but we just want to know what’s going on so we can help you.” You turned to look at Wanda, who nodded at you. Even though no words were exchanged, you could tell she was saying: “You should tell them. You can trust them, they’re your friends.” Sighing, you nodded back at her and turned to face the team once more. 
“Okay. But you have to let me explain everything before you say anything,” you said, your tone cautious. The team all nodded and gave various responses of understanding and agreement. 
Sighing, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself to share one of your biggest secrets/insecurities. 
“Okay, well… I don’t know when it all started- I remember figuring out that weight was something people were insecure about- and by 7 years old I had started scrutinizing my appearance a lot, and keeping a close eye on how I looked,” you paused, still picking at the strings on your pants and refusing to look up at your friends. 
“I remember I had a crush on this kid in 7th grade who used to make jokes about my weight and jokingly called me fat. Realistically, I knew I wasn’t fat, but since I cared so much about that kid’s opinion I began to wonder what they saw when they looked at me. What everyone saw. If they could make jokes about me being fat, I figured that that meant there had to be some truth to it. Otherwise, why would they joke about it? When I finally hit the 100 lbs mark somewhere between 7th-8th grade, I started to panic. Even though I knew it was normal for my age, I didn’t like the fact that I was gaining weight even if it was healthy. My weight would fluctuate a lot and if I complained about it, my parents told me I should exercise more or eat healthier foods, or snack less after school. I rarely ever had breakfast, and the school lunches weren’t very filling. So after school, I would go home and basically eat a small meal, and my mom would criticize me for it. 
When my anxiety got really bad in high school and I got diagnosed with anemia, I felt nauseous a lot, so I usually didn’t want to eat much because I felt so sick. And then, I realized that my body was starting to look the way I wanted it to since I was eating in very small amounts. I could never completely stop eating… I was afraid of what would happen to me, and it tended to cause really bad migraines. So I always ate at least a little bit. But there were…” you hesitated, and then corrected yourself. “There ARE days when I don’t eat for a full 24 hours- sometimes even longer- and I’m proud of myself. I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. Of course, no one has noticed because I still eat, so as long as no one looks too closely, they can’t tell that anything is abnormal. Which is what I want, because anytime someone tells me to eat more or criticizes my eating habits or tells me that what I’m doing is really unhealthy and dangerous, I start to panic. Because I don’t WANT to fix it. I know I should want to- and I should do something about it- but I don’t want to.” You were quiet for a moment before adding, 
“Today was the first time I’ve ever passed out. I’ve never gone that far before. I don’t know what happened. I think my appetite has changed a lot since this all started. I can’t eat as much food as I used to and oftentimes I just don’t feel hungry. There are a lot of times when I can’t think of a single thing I want to eat- everything makes me feel sick- even though I can tell I should probably have something. So, yeah, that’s everything,” you finished quietly.
The room was silent for a minute before Tony sat down and pulled you into a side hug. 
“I get it kid. For me, it has nothing to do with weight or insecurity- I just forget to eat. I get so wrapped up in my work and everything I have to do, that it just completely slips my mind. I don’t even feel hungry, so I don’t notice until I start to feel really weak and tired. Or until Bruce or Pepper remind me to eat or bring me food,” he added, with a grin in Bruce’s direction. Bruce chuckled a little.
“Yep, that’s what I’m here for. Reminding Tony to eat, sleep, and shower; if it weren’t for me, he would look like a homeless man,” Bruce said jokingly. The team laughed a little, glad to have something to break the tension a little. 
“Hey, I know I won’t ever fully understand what it is you’re feeling, but I do want to help you. Can you promise me something kid?” Tony asked, giving you a serious look. You stared back at him curiously. 
“Can you promise that you’ll try something for me?” Slowly you nodded, not entirely sure what you had just agreed to. 
“Let’s help each other out. I won’t push you to eat a huge meal or criticize what you’re eating, but I want to check in with you a few times a day to make sure you’ve had something to eat and some water. And in return, you can help me make sure that I don’t forget to eat. Pepper’s been on my ass about it for years, telling me how unhealthy it is. So, if you let me help you, I’ll let you do the same for me. How does that sound?” Tony asked. You bit your lip and considered it for a moment. You did want to help Tony, and holding each other accountable for your eating habits didn’t seem so terrible. And he did promise he wouldn’t judge you or tell you what to eat. You still had control- you didn’t have to feel so trapped- like a small child being reprimanded by their parents. 
“You promise you won’t judge me or get mad at me?” you asked with uncertainty. 
“I promise,” Tony said, giving you a light squeeze. You thought about it for another moment before leaning your on his shoulder and saying, 
“Okay. I promise.” Tony smiled down at you. 
“Good. I’m proud of you kiddo,” he said. 
“Would you feel okay about the rest of us checking in on you sometimes? Just making sure you feel okay and you’ve had some water or something?” Bucky asked. You considered him for a minute, looking at his concerned expression and let out a barely audible sigh. 
“Yeah, okay. Just don’t judge me or make me feel bad, okay?” you said, looking around at the group. They all nodded, still wearing various expressions of concern and sadness on their faces. 
“Alright, now stop looking at me like I just told you I have a terminal illness. I don’t need any pity,” you said, your tone playful. The group laughed at your joke, glad to see you were starting to get back to normal again. 
“You know we love you, right Y/N/N?” Sam asked. You nodded and smiled at him. 
“Yeah, I know. I know you guys are just looking out for me and I appreciate it. I love you guys.” 
“We love you too Y/N,” Steve said with a smile. Smiling contentedly, you leaned into Tony’s shoulder again and closed your eyes, feeling calm for the first time in a while.    
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marvelstuff-iguess · 19 hours ago
"i'm not ticklish" for the send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic thingy, if you're still doing these
((I am still doing these!))
This caused Steve and Sam to both glance at Bucky with a brow raised.
Steve knew Bucky was indeed ticklish, and Sam had his theories after giving the soldier random pokes as he walked past the man around the facility.
Sam chuckled and shook his head at Bucky, finally speaking his mind "That is complete bull-"
"-a lie! That's a huge lie, Buck." Steve cut the Falcon off, knowing he was about to use foul language, causing the other two men to chuckle slightly before Bucky started to deny again.
Sam and Steve both stood up, and so did Bucky, who gave them a good long chase around the compound before they finally caught him and gave him the wrecking of a lifetime - that shows him for lying to them.
. . .
send me the first line of a fic and i'll write the next 5
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spider-twords · 20 hours ago
Send me the first sentence of a starter and i'll write the next 5
seeing this around and i'm bored so feel free to send me some. keep it sfw and platonic.
send in the first sentence and i'll write the next 5
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kadeuuijib · 22 hours ago
lord forgive me... but i need sub!andrea marowski content 😳pls and thank you for your service to the daniel brühl fan club 😼😌
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(hes so cute i wanna choke him)
sub! andrea marowski headcannons
god i just love him as andrea such a sweet little boy, not a thought in his head. he’s always so attentive to your needs, always doing things for you and thinking of you when out and about. he’d even bring you flowers hand picked or sea shells just because he thought you would enjoy them. hes all around such a sweet baby.
i feel like he’s very inexperienced, but he tries his best. he knows he likes you being in charge more than the opposite. he doesn’t have much confidence when it comes to taking a leadership position, especially in bed, so if you assumed the role he would be extremely grateful.
little andrea would definitely be the type to pull on your sleeves, tug at your belt loops, or even be touchy feel-y in public if he were needy. he wouldn’t outright tell you, but he would send you visual cues to let you know.
he would first whine about wanting to go home maybe, even offering to cook you a fantastic meal, rub your back, whatever you needed as long as you could go home. and you were out having such a good day you didn’t understand why he was so eager to head home.
after his advancements did not take, he would tug on your sleeves, pull on your belt loop to pull you against him, wrapping his arms around your torso as you walked through the village. “andrea? what has gotten into you? are you feeling ill?” you questioned, partitioning yourself from the group. he whines, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear, grabbing your hand and placing it right on top of the growing buldge, and with a dumbfound face mumbling out a, “mommy.. i.. i need to go home.. i need help.”
and of course you couldn’t deny him! who could with those puppy dog eyes and a willingness to serve? after bidding your goodbyes to the group, he tugged you all the way back to the house, and upstairs to his bedroom before you locked the door and sat him down in the chair in the corner. “you know, andrea.. that was really bad if you to do. couldn’t you have taken care of yourself before we left? or did you need some extra time you weren’t granted, hm?” you cooed, hands grazing up and down his legs as your blouse dipped down.
this poor boy would have absolutely no coherent thoughts coming out, just absolutely dumbfounded, trying hard not to stare at your exposed chest, but also not wanting to think to heavily about the fact that you were merely inches away from his tightening buldge. “i.. i.. mommy, i just... i need you to take care of me.” he cried out, breathing heavier than before.
and with that, your cue had begone. it was only a matter of time before andrea was a moaning, whimpering mess beneath you. he was quick to close his eyes and turn away, but with you in charge you would grab his jaw, pulling him down to face you as you swallowed his cock whole. pulling off with a popping sound, you muttered, “what? doesn’t mommy look pretty like this? cum all over her lips?” and it absolutely sends a shiver down his spine as without even being touched for mere seconds, he feels his body starting to shake. biting down onto his lip he pleads for more, granting the wish was the easiest part, your nose touching the base of his cock as he cries out your name, with some strings of polish and pleas for a certain mommy.
after swallowing his load, and finding your lips stained with his cum, coming back up to kiss andrea was no foreign choice. neither was the kisses after he spent hours eating you out. neither was the sweat dripping down his forehead as you rode him, his nails digging into your hips as you went harder, finding pleasure for your own self.
andrea wouldn’t know what to do besides whine, plead, and cum. he’d try his best to do something new, but, you always helped him out if he wanted to do something he was unsure of.
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darke-15 · 23 hours ago
Quotes from Aftermath // 22
“When Danny proposed, how did you know that he was the one?”
You cocked your head to the side, “Duke, Danny proposed during a bar fight in Belgium.”
“ did you know?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed with a shrug, “I was in the middle of shanking a guy with a broken beer bottle when he asked. And he was hitting another guy over the head with a pool cue. It was chaos. We were chaos.”
You paused, your breath hitching in your throat, “It was just...right. Like we were meant to be together.”
| Battle Scarred : Aftermath | »Darke15
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demxters · 23 hours ago
we were in screaming color
i. “don’t want no other shade of blue but you” 
bucky barnes x reader; soulmate!au
summary: the rest of the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate. you and bucky barnes lived in color. that is, until you lost him.  (inspired by this ask) 
wc: 9k (also the longest thing i’ve written wtf??) 
warning(s): swearing, light descriptions of blood, some descriptions of panic/panic attacks, and pain 
main writing masterlist ☼ marvel masterlist
a/n: this will have multiple parts! i didn’t plan on this being that long, but here we are…. ty so much to the lovely anon who requested this, i had so much fun writing this and i cant wait to continue y/n and bucky’s story! also i apologize for the ts references, i saw the opportunity and ran with it hehe 
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(gif credit @aavengingbucky)
People say meeting your soulmate will open the mind’s eye to a world full of color. The situation was rare, finding the one soul out of a billion who’s made for you. The world is so vast and there are so many people to encounter that you’d think meeting your soulmate would be impossible. And yet at the ripe age of eighteen, you were lucky enough to have met yours.
The day James Buchanan Barnes and his little friend Steve walked into the general store your parents owned was the day that changed your life forever. You remember that day as if it were yesterday. You remember the way his boisterous laugh met your ears, pulling you from the newspaper in your hands. You remember meeting his piercing gaze from across the store and seeing the world around you burst into a plethora of beautiful colors; each color being named as you stared around in wonder. When you met the boy’s stare again, the word blue formulated in your mind and you felt yourself go weak in the knees. It was then that you decided that of all the colors you could now see, blue was your favorite of them all. 
“Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?” 
You look up at your favorite pair of baby blues from where you lay on his chest and let out a heavy sigh. Eight years later and it still felt like you were seeing the color for the first time every time you looked at him. “Just thinking about how pretty your eyes are, Barnes,” you reply dreamily, readjusting yourself so you were now sitting besides him against the headboard of your bed. 
He lets out a soft laugh at that and turns to you with a smile. “They’re nothing compared to yours, doll.” 
Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you let a smile fall upon your features. “Stop it…” 
“You started it!” He looks down at you bashfully and playfully pokes at your sides, making you jerk. 
You yelp, trying to pull away from him, but he only brings you back to him and wraps his arms around your waist. You stop moving then and settle into the comfort that his hold brings you. Your positions are now reversed as Bucky rests his head on your shoulder, slightly lying down. The two of you lay together in silence as you bask in each other’s presence. You close your eyes as you try to memorize the pattern of his breath and the feeling of his skin on yours. 
Bucky gently rubs up and down your back as his fingers lightly trace your spine. He hated himself for thinking it, but he wanted to remember what it felt like to hold you like this without any other care in the world. He wanted to relive this moment for as long as he could, in case this would be the last time. 
When you open your eyes, you look down and notice the way Bucky’s brow was furrowed and the worry lines on his forehead. Taking your hands that rested on his chest, you delicately grab his face and focus his gaze on you. You give him a small smile before smoothing your thumbs over his cheekbones and forehead. “Don’t go there,” you tell him softly. 
“I can’t help it.” Removing his arms from around your waist, he grabs onto your wrists and grasps them tightly. “I-I can’t…” Bucky’s breathing quickens. 
“Shh,” you coo. “No need to rush, Buck.” 
He nods, slowly taking a deep breath. You continue to rub your thumbs across his cheeks and under his eyes in a soothing manner. He swallows harshly before speaking again. “I can’t leave Steve and Ma and my sisters. I can’t leave you. Not when I don’t know if I’ll even come back.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You’re going to come back, you hear me? You’re too stubborn not to,” you argue, feeling your heart shatter as Bucky’s body shook in your arms. You knew how much it hurt him to leave. You saw it in his eyes every time the war was mentioned. He wore his uniform with pride, gloating here and there that he was going to be a sergeant. And you couldn’t be prouder. But it was behind closed doors when you saw his doubts and fears slip through. 
“But in the case that I don’t-”
“No. You will. I know you will.” You shake your head in denial, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere deep down you knew he was right. Not everyone came back from the war, no matter how hard they tried. Families got torn apart, friends were separated, and soulmates were lost. You refused to think of it. You didn’t want to. Not when he was still here with you. Releasing his face from your hold, you turn away from him with a frown. “Can we not talk about it please? I don’t want to think about this. You’re still here, aren’t you? I don’t want this to be my last memory of you before you leave.” 
Bucky sighs in defeat. “Ok,” he finally complies before wrapping you up in his arms once more. He rests his head atop yours and presses a kiss into your hair every now and then as you hug him just as tight, almost as if you were afraid to let go. “Hey, Y/N?” he says softly after a couple minutes of silence. He hears you hum in response and continues. “I love you.” 
Looking back up at him, your eyes soften and you let a small smile grace your features. You lean up and capture his mouth with yours as your lips fall into a rhythm they’ve performed one too many times before. “I love you too, soulmate.” 
While he was gone, you dreamt of him in color. You dreamt of the way his crystalline blue eyes would light up when you reunite. You dreamt of the red stains of your lipstick on his skin, as you’d kiss him over and over again. You dreamt of his military greens that he’d be wearing when he got back. Steve would make his presence known every now and then in your dreams as well, the yellow of his hair as bright as the sun. You dreamt of a glorious reunion with your soulmate and your best friend. After Steve told you he was miraculously cleared to join the army as well, your heart shattered.  You were happy for him, knowing how badly he wanted to be involved. Except you couldn’t help but want to be selfish just this once. You just wanted your boys back. 
The days came and went at a snail’s pace as each day stayed routinely the same. You started your mornings with your shift at the General Store. Then you’d have lunch with your mother before going to the post office to mail off yet another later to Bucky. You mailed one everyday, but you got one from him at least once every two weeks. You didn’t mind though knowing that he’s out on the field. Just being able to receive a letter from him once in a while was enough. At least you knew he was still out there. Evenings consisted of visiting the Barnes’ as you were a familiar face and some form of comfort for them. You’d talk with the girls and do Rebecca’s hair and help Winifred tuck them into bed. Then you’d have a cup of tea with Mrs. Barnes before heading back home and doing it all again the next day. It may have not been much. But at least it gave you a small sense of calm before the storm. 
It started with Steve’s unbelievable transformation. You have never seen anything like it. When you received an invitation in the mail from the man himself to attend something called, “Captain America’s USO Show,” you were puzzled to say the least. Yet you went anyway, curiosity getting the better of you. Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw that night. The theatre at which the event was being held was decked out in an array of red, white, and gorgeous blues. You looked around in awe. The venue looked like something straight out of an Independence Day decoration catalog. People were ushering around you left and right as they tried to find a seat and you followed the flow. Your eyes flit across the sea of people, trying to find a vacant seat. Spotting one in the center section of the theatre four rows away from the stage, you make your way down the row and into one of the vacant seats. You smooth down your outfit as you take a seat as you continue to stare around the room. A banner for the event a little ways from where you were catches your eye. Well doesn’t he look familiar, you think to yourself as your gaze focuses even more on the so called “Captain America.” 
“Excuse me, miss, is this seat taken?” a sweet voice pulls you from your thoughts. 
You turn attention to the voice to see a lovely elderly woman dressed in a lovely lavender pantsuit. “Oh no,” you kindly respond, gesturing to the seat. “It’s all yours.” 
She gives you a nod and a smile before taking the seat. 
The two of you wait for the show to start in silence as you continue to take in the sight around you. 
“So, I’m guessing you’ve met your soulmate?” the woman questions you, intrigued. You send her a look of surprise and she chuckles. “I could tell by the way you’re looking around. Most people would’ve just stared straight ahead, but your eyes are wandering all over the place!” 
The two of you share a bout of laughter prior to your reply. “Yes, I have actually. I met him when I was eighteen.” 
She sighs dreamily and gives you a soft smile. “You’re lucky to have met him so young. Is he with you tonight?” 
The expression on your face falters at her question. “Unfortunately not. He’s somewhere out there serving the country…” 
“Ah, a military man. My Harold was a military man too. He fought in the first World War as a sergeant.” 
You find yourself smiling at that. “My fella’s a sergeant too.” 
“Oh, what a small world!” she exclaims with a giggle. The woman turns to you and gingerly places a gloved hand atop yours that lay on your lap. “Even the war couldn’t tear us apart. It was the scarlet fever that took my love away from me…” She trails off, staring longingly into space. “A word of advice, dear. Cherish every moment you have with your soulmate, you hear me? People like us, people who find our soulmates, we go through hell just to be with them. Because once they’re gone, it’s harder to find that light the world once had when you were together.” 
The woman’s words feel like a stake to your heart as you think about Bucky. Your throat goes dry and it takes everything in you not to rush out of the theatre right then and there and demand the US military for his location. You just sit there, staring at the woman beside you with teary eyes. You open your mouth to speak but are cut off by the dimming of the lights and the deep voice of the announcer. 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, Captain America!” 
The red, white, and blue clad man runs on stage with an award winning smile and a wave. The crowd erupted in applause at the sight of the man and you let out a chuckle in amusement. You thought it was silly how much the people praised this man for parading as the face of America when there were men at the forefront of the battle right now. You continue to watch, eyes narrowed in suspicion as you stare at the man. Something about him struck you as awfully familiar as he spoke. Yet, you couldn’t put your finger on it. So you just sat back and watched the show. You’ll admit, you were more than slightly entertained, but the nagging in the back of your mind that you knew this Captain America occupied most of your thoughts. 
The show came to an end with an extravagant finale with the Captain giving quite a “punch” to a man who was supposed to be Hitler and more war and weaponry propaganda. Which was expected, considering the times. But it still made your stomach turn nevertheless. After an applause from the crowd at the show’s end, the theatre audience began to trickle out with just a few sticking around to meet with Mr. America himself. You bid goodbye to the woman who sat next to you during the program, wishing her the best, before going to wait by the side of the stage where Captain America was shaking hands with fancily dressed men. You stand there for a few minutes before the men leave, waving enthusiastically at the Captain. 
He sees you standing a few feet from the front of the stage and a gigantic grin crosses his face. He rips off the mask he’s wearing with his costume and you let out a large gasp as a hand goes to cover your mouth. 
“Steven Grant Rogers!” you exclaim with such shock going through your body you can barely move. 
Steve laughs and hops off the stage. He heads your way and gathers you up in his arms with a wide grin. “Y/N!” he beamed. 
Your arms wrap around his muscular form as you gasp again and how easily he picks you up off the ground and spins you in a circle. When he places you back down on the floor, you pull away from him and are met with him smiling widely at you. “Wha… how?” you stutter, barely able to conjure up the words to describe what happened to him. Steve Rogers was the lanky little boy from Brooklyn no more. He was now Captain America, large, buff, and extremely charming. 
“It’s a long story,” he tells you with a shake of his head. “Gosh, I’m so glad you came. I was afraid you wouldn’t get the invitation.” 
“So it was you?” 
“It was,” Steve responds proudly. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“I wanted to keep the element of surprise.” He sends you a wink and you find yourself laughing again. 
“Well, it most definitely worked.” Your eyes rake over his form once again, taking in the miracle before you. “I still don’t understand what’s going on here,” you mutter in disbelief. “But it’s so good to see you again, Steve. It’s been too long.” 
“Yeah, it has. Hey, how about I take you out to dinner tonight? Let me change out of this get up and we could go to Lottie’s just for old times sake?” Steve pleads. 
You agree without hesitation. This sense of normalcy would be good for you, especially with how lonely you’ve been feeling lately. Going out with Steve would be a good form of comfort and familiarity. 
Sitting in the diner with Steve is a breath of fresh air. The last time you felt the least bit content was back when Bucky was here. Thinking of Bucky, the smile on your face subsides and you find yourself staring longingly out the window next to your usual booth. 
Steve notices your sudden silence and could tell exactly what you were thinking from the look in your eye. “I miss him too,” he tells you softly. He reaches across the table and gently takes your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. “Buck’s one hell of a fighter. He’ll do everything he can to get back home.” 
You send him an appreciative smile. “Thanks Stevie. What about you? Care to tell me how all this happened then?” 
He only smiles at your question and shakes his head. “I’d love to, Y/N/N, but I’m not sure how much I can exactly tell,” Steve tells you remorsefully. The way your lips tilt downward pulls at Steve’s heart. “But I promise once all of this is over, I’ll tell you everything. How about when Bucky gets back, so I can fill the two of you in?” 
Steve walks you home just like old times. The walk to your house is mostly quiet other than your occasional teasing comments on Steve’s new bod. For the first time in months, things felt relatively normal. But it was Bucky’s absence that reminded you otherwise. When the two of you get to your front door, you give Steve one last hug before parting ways. Your walk upstairs is a sad one as you reminisce how a night like this would have looked months ago. Making your way into your room, you let out a sigh and sit at your vanity. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize the person looking back at you. She was tired and disheveled, with her hair in disarray and a lack of powder on her face. She was nothing like the proper lady her mother raised her to be. Your eyes scan over your features once more when your gaze catches a glimpse of a familiar brown hanging from your open closet. Getting up, you walk over to your closet and pull the clothing off its hanger. You bring the jacket up to your nose and inhale its familiar scent. You wrap it around your shoulders, pretending that you’re in Bucky’s warm embrace. If you pushed yourself enough, you could almost imagine that this was a night like any other, and you were coming back home wrapped in the arms of your lover. 
Something was wrong. If the lack of letters from Bucky didn’t worry you enough, the feeling in your gut that did. The letters stopped coming a few weeks ago. The worry was normal, your mother had told you. She also told you that sometimes there were mailing delays and maybe the month’s shipment hasn’t come through. You considered this for a moment, until the dream you had a few nights ago. 
All your dreams start the same, with you in your rose red dress and Bucky in his military uniform in the dance hall downtown. Tommy Dorsey’s “Daybreak” is playing in the background as Bucky holds a hand out for you to take. But instead of being pulled into his familiar embrace, your dream took a different turn. As you take his hand, the scene shifts, and you find yourself in a dark and empty room. The air is cold, though you can’t feel it. The sight of your breath as you exhaled told you there was a drop in climate. You turn around, finding yourself in what looked to be a mix between a prison cell and a laboratory. Then the faint sound of his voice catches your attention. His words were incoherent, but you could recognize his voice anywhere. 
You receive no response back. Looking around the room, you try to gather your senses and scan your surroundings. Where the hell were you? You hear him again, only this time, his voice is louder. More intelligible. 
“Bucky?” You call out again, voice laced with a sense of urgency. 
He doesn’t respond to you again and you find yourself barging out of the room and into a dark hallway. You let out a shaky breath, listening again for any sounds of his voice again. The next time you hear him shakes you to your core, making your stomach turn. 
He screams. He lets out a heart wrenching scream that seems to vibrate through the hall, causing you to drop on your knees as tears begin to fall from your eyes. Pain was the only thing you could feel. He was in pain. He screams again and you let out a sob as you bring your hands to your head and cover your ears. You’re not sure how long you stay there, before the screams finally stop. 
Suddenly, you’re jolting out of bed drenched in sweat. Your throat is dry and you have dried tear stains on your cheeks. You shiver as you remember the horrible dream you had. The tears well up in your eyes once more as the sound of Bucky’s screams echo through your head. It may have just been a dream, but everything about it felt completely real. From the sound of his voice, to the feeling of the cold concrete against your knees and the musty smell of the corridor. You had to figure out a way to reach him. You had to make sure Bucky was ok. 
Bucky sat in the infirmary tent, still shaken from all that has happened within the span of a couple of hours. Just hours ago, he was in Hydra’s clutches. Too sudden movements from the nurses around him made him flinch and loud noises around the camp made his heart rate raise. Steve stayed with him the entire time. For moral support or for his own reassurance, Bucky wasn’t sure. But he appreciated the company. He just wished you were there with him too. 
Being poked and prodded at by the scientists at the Hydra compound he was held at almost made him lose hope entirely. Grasping onto the thought of seeing your smiling face again, to be able to hold and kiss you as he pleased, was the only thing giving him the motivation to stay alive. So much so that he could’ve sworn he heard you calling his name once or twice while he was there. Bucky knew he must’ve been hallucinating, but your voice had sounded too real. He could’ve sworn you were right outside his cell. And the  thought alone, scared him more than anything. There’s an unsettling tug in Bucky’s chest that ached every time he thought of you. An ache that could be resolved only by you. Bucky couldn’t stand the aching any longer. He needed to find a way to see you. 
He sits up, hastily yanking the IV out of his arm and attempts to climb out of his cot when it squeaks beneath him, alerting Steve of his consciousness. 
“Buck?” he questions, a bit aloof from sleep. 
“I’m fine, Steve, go back to sleep,” Bucky brushes him off. He tries to get himself up on his feet once more when Steve grabs him by the elbows and steadies him at the edge of the cot. 
“You’re not fine, Bucky. Get back in bed. You need to rest.”
He shakes his head with a heavy sigh, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I can’t. Please, Steve, I-I need to see her.”
“The nurse?” Steve questions. His blue eyes sweep through the infirmary in search of a nurse when he feels Bucky grab his hand. 
“No, not the nurse. Y/N. My Y/N, I need to see her,” Bucky frantically pleads as he tries to get out of the bed once more. 
Steve shakes his head with worry and pity for his friend. He knew what Bucky just went through was traumatic. And he knew that Bucky needed all the comfort and support he could get. Which is why he wasn’t surprised when he asked for you. It pained Steve’s heart that no matter what he did could cure his best friend’s want. “I’m sorry, Bucky. But Y/N’s not here.” 
“No, Steve.” Bucky shakes his head, eyes constantly darting back and forth. “I need to see her. I need to know that she’s ok.” 
Steve’s brow furrows at Bucky’s words. “What? Bucky, Y/N’s fine. She’s in Brooklyn, remember? Right where you left her. I even saw her before I left. She’s ok. She’s safe, I promise.” 
The worry on Bucky’s face doesn’t fade. His muscles are still tense and his forehead is beaded with sweat. “Steve, please.” 
Seeing the panic on Bucky’s face, Steve knew he just wasn’t going to let it go. Steve didn’t blame him. If he were in his place, he’d need reassurance that his loved ones were ok too. So Steve nods, giving Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “Ok. Ok, Buck. I’ll see what I can do.” 
After what he did for the troops and being Captain America, Steve was able to pull some strings and get you on a privately escorted flight to Italy. When you got the phone call from Steve, your mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. But after some explaining from Steve, you were able to let out a breath of relief. Though you were a bit confused as to why Bucky was begging to see you, Steve promised he’d explain everything when you got there. Without any care other than the thought of your love, you threw your clothes in a suitcase and scribbled a note to your mother explaining your whereabouts. 
The camp was anything but comforting. People were running around left and right and you could hardly grasp onto your surroundings. The camp was loud. There were shouts coming from all directions as you stepped off the jeep that picked you up from the airport. You must’ve looked as lost as you felt because a man in uniform sauntered up beside you with an amused smirk on his mouth. 
“Are you lost, miss? A military camp isn’t exactly the place for a dame like you.” He sends you a mocking smile as he pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket. 
The man offers you a cigar, which you politely decline, tightening your grip around your bag on your shoulder. With your eyes scanning across the camp, you tell him, “I’m actually looking for Sergeant Barnes of the 107th.” 
“Barnes? I don’t know where he is, but I do know someone who does. Stay here.” He jogs off to one of the tents. The man comes back with a woman who dismisses him with a nod. He gives you a nod before walking off. 
“Ah, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” the woman observed with a warm smile. She had a strong English accent and striking red lipstick. “I’m Agent Carter, but please call me Peggy. Steve said he’s expecting you. Come, follow me.” 
As Peggy leads you through the camp, you find yourself feeling nauseous at the sight of how the men around you were damaged by the war. There were men with lost limbs and men with cuts and scars galore. Men who were sprawled out on the ground in tears, clutching pictures of their loved ones, and men who were drinking through the trauma brought upon them. The sight almost brought you to tears. You couldn’t begin to imagine what they were going through. Then you think back to Bucky and you think you’re going to be sick. Steve hadn’t told you much over the phone other than Bucky begging to see you, leaving the rest up to your imagination. You’re pulled out of your thoughts at the familiar call of your name. 
Steve approaches you and Peggy with a relief filled smile which you gladly return before giving him a huge hug. When you pull away, Steve observes the pinch of your brows and the way your lips were pursed. He sees the look of worry in your eyes as he gently grabs you by the shoulders. Steve smooths a hand down your shoulder and carefully takes your bag from your hold. 
“Steve-” you start with teary eyes. 
“He’s here, come with me,” he tells you gently, guiding you by the arm to another tent. 
You suck in a deep breath, trying to keep yourself steady as best as you can. For Bucky’s sake and Steve’s sake, of course. Though the way you clenched your fists and attempted to blink the tears from your eyes suggested otherwise. Walking into the tent was just as horrendous of a sight as the camp outside. With men sprawled everywhere, and nurses shuffling left and right, everything about it made your heart drop. As you carefully followed Steve, your eyes flit all over before finally landing on a cot at the very back end of the tent. He was sitting up with his back facing you, but you knew it was him. You’d recognize him anywhere. You don’t even register that your feet are moving quicker than Steve’s until you’re standing directly behind the man you’ve been longing to be reunited with for months. “Bucky?” 
At the sound of your voice, oh your sweet angelic voice, Bucky is up faster than anyone’s seen him move in days. He almost trips over his feet as he runs over to you, his military boots loose from his undone laces. There’s no hesitation in his movements as Bucky runs over to you and tackles you in the largest hug. His arms wrap securely around your waist and he tucks his head in the crook of your neck. He inhales your familiar scent that sends a wave of calm over his entire body. Bucky feels your arms come around his neck and he pulls even closer to him, afraid that if he let go for just a second, you’d slip away from him. He was afraid that the second he let go, he would find himself alone in that cold, dark cell and back in Hydra’s hands. Burying himself further against you, he lets out a breath. “You’re ok. You’re ok…” he repeats over and over again. 
“Bucky,” you sigh, voice filled with relief. You feel his hold on you tighten and you reciprocate the action, finally feeling the longing you’ve had subside at the motion. When Bucky mumbles your name into the skin of your neck, your heart stutters at the feeling of finally being able to feel him again. You pull away from him ever so slightly, just enough so you could see his face. His blue meets your y/e/c eyes and you let out a breath of relief. You were finally home. “Are you ok?” you question, cupping his face delicately in your hands. “When Steve called me on the phone, gosh Buck, I thought I lost you.” 
Your voice cracks at the end of your statement and when he notices the tears that have begun to stream down your cheeks, his heart almost breaks in his chest. He grabs your wrists and leans forward, placing his forehead against yours. You let out a shaky breath and Bucky’s grip tightens. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers softly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 
You shake your head with a frown. “Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for.” You softly place your lips upon his and Bucky lets out a quiet moan against your lips before you pull away. Brushing the pads of your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks, you slightly bump the tip of your nose with his, eliciting a smile from the man. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re here and that’s all that matters to me.” 
Bucky and you were so caught up in each other that you didn’t notice Steve and Peggy slip away or the nurse who changed Bucky’s sheets for some new ones. The only thing that existed was each other. 
“Stay,” Bucky pleads with a sad smile. “Stay with me tonight. I know the cot isn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on but-” 
“Ok. Ok, Buck, I’ll stay. For you, I always will.” And it was true. You would stay with Bucky Barnes for as long as he pleased. 
Bucky fell asleep in an instant that night. You held him in your arms as if it were any other night; as if he didn’t just come from the forefront of a raging war. You begged him to tell you what happened to him. Though him nor Steve told you directly, you knew there was something they were hiding from you. The way that Steve wouldn’t meet your eye and the vacancy behind Bucky’s eyes told you so. There was more to the reason why you were here. But Bucky requested you wait. You reluctantly complied. 
When you first saw the color yellow, you automatically noticed how it filled you with joy. The yellow of the sun, the yellow of the flowers Bucky bought you on your first date, and the yellow of the overly buttered popcorn at the cinema Bucky always took you to were just a few of the things you associated the color with. And even now despite the circumstances, the pale yellow glow from the moon above filled you with joy as it shone through the half opened tent flap like a spotlight, illuminating your lover. The light accentuated Bucky’s features in a way that you would describe as heavenly. You could see every freckle and blemish and the curve of his cheekbones. But with it came the view of every cut, scar, and bruise on his skin from where he lay on your chest. Your chest tightens as your gaze lands upon the purpling bruise and dark spots that gathered under his eyes. Biting your lip, you will yourself not to cry. Just the thought of Bucky being out there fighting a war that seemed impossible to win made you want to run up to the general and beg him not to let Bucky back out there. The tiny, selfish part of you wanted to beg the general to let your Bucky come home. But you knew that wasn’t possible. Bucky would hate it if you did. He was never one to back down from a fight, always being the person who needed to see justice be served to be satisfied. You knew that dragging him from this fight wouldn’t be fair for him. But what about you? It wasn’t fair for you to be the one at home wallowing in your own pain and sadness as you wondered when (or if) he’d come home. It wasn’t fair that you had to go through it all alone. You blink away your tears, letting out silent curses as you do. Bucky was only doing what he thought was right. He always did. It’s not fair for you to get mad at him, not after all he’s done for you. 
Bucky stirs in your embrace as a soft whimper leaves his lips. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were shut tight. So tight that the corners of his eyes began to crinkle. He lets out another noise of distress, pulling you from your thoughts and back to him. Your lips turn down in a frown at the sight of the man in your arms as you gently brush a strand of stray hair from his forehead. His skin is clammy at the touch and beaded with sweat. Pressing the back of your hand carefully against his forehead again, you let out a soft gasp at how hot he feels. He must be close to running a fever. You try to lay him down on the cot so you could get up and call a nurse but his grip on you only gets tighter. “Bucky,” you murmur. 
He lets out a string of incoherent words and flinches. 
“Bucky, honey, you’ve got to let go,” you shake him slightly, trying to get him to wake. He stirs once more, letting out another whimper of pain and you touch his shoulder a bit harder this time. “Bucky!” 
He jolts up, heaving for air as his arms fall from your waist. A chill runs through his body as his mind flashes back to the horrors that were bestowed upon him not long ago as his eyes frantically dart back and forth as he tries to gather his surroundings. Bucky was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. A delicate hand on his shoulder stopped him from spiraling as you breathe out his name. “Christ,” Bucky sighs, collapsing into your arms. With his eyes squeezed shut, he winds his arms around your waist and peppers sweet kisses against your neck. “I’m here. You’re here…” 
Wrapping one arm around his shoulders, you use the other to run a hand through his hair that was partly damp from sweat. You nod placing your lips on the crown of his head. “Of course you’re here, my love. You never left.” 
Bucky shakes his head in a panic. “No, no. I was there. I was back there and I couldn’t-I couldn’t move.” He pulls away from you and his eyes vigilantly rake up and down your form. “I can’t go back there. I can’t.” 
You swallow harshly as he continues to babble about not going back. Back where? What possible could have happened to him while he was away to make him react this way? You gently rock him back and forth as you try to subside his frantic words. “Oh, Buck,” you mumbled into his hair. “What did they do to you?” 
His movements still and his gaze darts away from yours. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows harshly. The bright blue of his eyes suddenly go dull at your words and for a moment you’re afraid that you might have crossed a line you should have stayed behind. Then it’s as if something in him snaps, and Bucky tells you everything. And the whole time all you could do is sit there with tears flowing down your cheeks as he tells you about the unimaginable. When he finally finishes his story, you throw yourself at him with such a force that Bucky could swear he felt his heart bump against his rib cage. Your sobs tear Bucky’s heart in two as you apologize for something that you never could’ve prevented from happening. Bucky takes this as his turn to comfort you. He wipes away your tears and kisses you everywhere his lips could touch. Each brush of his lips was enough of a reminder for both you and him that he was here with you. That despite it all, Bucky still came home. When you eventually collapse in his arms from exhaustion, Bucky silently thanks the heavens above for bringing him back to you. He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to lose him in a way worse than the war. As you nestle yourself in Bucky’s arms, the yellow glow of the moon gives itself a different meaning for the two of you, no longer emitting joy, but rather a sign of sorrow. 
Since that night, you and Bucky haven’t spoken about either of your breakdowns, opting to specifically focus on his recovery in the meantime. It was a mutual agreement between the two of you-- him not wanting to discuss it any further and you keeping quiet in fear of making him even more upset than he already was whenever someone mentioned the incident. So when the rest of the Howling Commandos suggested having a celebratory night at one of the local pubs, you eagerly agreed. 
It’s been awhile since the last time the two of you were able to have a somewhat normal night with one another. Perhaps it was before you even knew Bucky was drafted for the war, before either of you had any knowledge of your impending doom. To think those were the good old days… Straightening out the dress Peggy lent you, you step out of the car with Peggy giving you a bright smile at your side. “Ready for your date?” you tease. 
Peggy’s cheeks gather a light pink dust on her porcelain skin as she brushes your comment off. “It isn’t a date. The whole unit is going to be there.” 
“True, but come one, you totally got dressed up for Steve!” You bump her playfully with your elbow as the two of you head to the pub. 
She exasperatedly rolls her eyes at you before nudging you back. “So what if I got dressed up for Steve? We’re not like you and James. He’s not my soulmate or anything.” 
“So?” You let out a groan as you pulled her aside before she could entire the pub. “Just because he’s not your soulmate doesn’t mean you can’t give it a try! Look, soulmates are rare. Bucky and I got lucky enough to have met each other. But my philosophy is, if you haven’t met your soulmate yet and you think you love Steve, maybe the universe is trying to tell you that you should give it a shot.” 
“Oh, I don’t know, Y/N…” 
“I believe in “everything happens for a reason” Peggy.” 
“Aren’t you quite the optimist,” she retorts. 
“I get it from Bucky.” Hooking your arm with hers, the two of you walk into the pub. “Now, show the captain what he’s missing.” With a small smile, you give her a playful wink. 
Making your way through the room, you spot the Commandos gathered around a table drinking and laughing like there’s no tomorrow. The sight makes your chest bloom with warmth as Dum Dum Dugan animatedly waves his hands around as he dramatical tells one of his infamous stories. You giggle as you and Peggy make your way to the group, exchanging greetings with the rowdy (and incredibly drunk) men. Over the course of the couple of weeks you’ve been at the camp, you’ve gained a soft spot for the P.O.W.’s Bucky bonded with. You admit, they were terrifying at first glance, but once you got to know them you enjoyed their company. 
“Looking for the lover boys?” Gabe Jones smirks at the two of you. Wolf whistles and chortles erupt around the table at Gabe’s teasing. 
“Oh, shush, you,” you feign anger before joining in on their laughter. 
“They’re over there,” Jones replies, pointing to the back room with a grin. 
You mouth a quick thank you to the man before pulling Peggy along with you to find your boys. Just as Gabe said, the two men were seated at the bar with a glass of whiskey in hand, looking as carefree as ever. Letting go of Peggy’s arm, you make your way over to Steve and Bucky and motion for her to follow. Walking up behind the two, you gingerly wrap your arms around Bucky’s shoulders and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but I’m here to steal your Sargeant.” 
At the sound of your voice, Bucky breaks into a huge grin as his hands grasp onto your hands that rested near his chest. The tip of his nose brushes against the skin of your cheek as he turns, giving you a sweet kiss on the skin. 
“He’s all yours, ma’am,” Steve cheekily replies, laughing as you pull Bucky up from his seat. 
With Bucky in tow, you pass Peggy and mouth her a silent ‘Go to him!’. Her eyes darted from yours to Steve’s figure at the bar. You shoot her an encouraging nod and make your way out of the pub. The cold Italian air nips at your skin as you step outside for some fresh air. You close your eyes and dramatically take a deep breath, crinkling your nose as you turn to Bucky. His crystal gaze was already set dreamily on your form, his lips pulled into a sweet smile. “What?” you ask him. 
Bucky exhales as he shakes his head. Taking a step closer to you, he holds your face in his hands as he rubs small circles into the hinge of your jawline with his thumb. “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are tonight,” he confesses with a charming grin. “I’ve never loved the color red more than when it’s on you.” 
Your chin drops to your sternum as you avoid his intense stare, fiddling with your fingers and bashfully staring at your feet. “You use that line on all the ladies?” 
“Only on you, my love,” he declares softly, grazing his fingertips faintly down your neck and to the sides of your ribcage. 
Your knees buckle at the sensation his touch sends through your body. Goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin from his touch, rather than from the cold as he continues to move downward until his hands are resting lowly on your waist. With a tug, he smoothly brings you flush against his chest and your arms instinctively drape themselves on his shoulder. “You sap,” you whisper into the cold air. “Wait ‘till the boys hear their sergeant’s gone soft for little ‘ole me.” You lightly tap him on the nose with the tip of your finger, eliciting a chuckle from the man. 
Bucky keeps you against him as he subconsciously sways the two of you underneath the Italian night sky, keeping you tucked snugly beneath his chin. “Daybreak, another new day, the mist on the meadow is drifting away…” 
The softness of his voice surrounds you as he begins to sing your song, making your eyelids flutter shut. The tension in your muscles subside as you continue to sway and you let the lull of his heartbeat bring you home. As he continues to sing, you hum along as you imagine the two of you standing in the dance hall in Brooklyn. 
Bucky’s grip loosens as he rounds the end of the song and he pulls back to take you in. “As the white clouds sail on through the blue, at daybreak I did dream of you…” The last words of the song linger as he gently caressed your lips with his. 
You let out a sigh of relief as Bucky’s mouth meets yours. You push against him with one of your hands snaking into his hair as your heart tries to claw its way out of your chest through the all too familiar dance of your lips. His movements have you drowning in the taste of whiskey and the scent of his cologne. He was the only thing that your mind could focus on. You didn’t need alcohol to get drunk, not when you had him. His kiss was intoxicating. To taste him, feel him, and love him awakened a feeling inside of you that no words could ever describe. Bucky Barnes lit the match that set your heart ablaze. Your love for him spread like a wildfire through your entire being as you tried to convey this all through your declarations of love on his lips. And yet, even then, it wasn’t enough to put out the flames that scorched your heart. If you didn’t need to take a breath, you could’ve gone on to kiss Bucky forever, but your lungs were screaming for air so you reluctantly pulled away. 
Bucky was panting heavily from the passion filled kiss you shared. Even with swollen lips, smudged lipstick and slightly mussed hair he still thought you were the most incredible thing he had ever seen. Nothing, not even the colosseum of Rome, could ever compare. The way that the stars reflected your wide and soulful gaze almost had Bucky on his knees. He doesn’t let go of your waist as he presses another quick, yet fervent kiss to your lips. “You know I love you with everything I have, right?” 
“I do,” you reply without a second of hesitation. 
Resting his forehead on yours, Bucky lets out a shaky breath before he continues. 
You notice the tremor of his shoulders as he does so, causing you to grab his face in your hands. 
“And because I love you, you know I have to do this,” he lets out slowly. 
“James, what is this about?” Fear overcomes the absolute bliss you were feeling just moments ago at his words. 
“Steve, the Commandos, and I-- we’re leaving again first thing tomorrow morning for the Alps. Steve has a lead on another Hydra base.”
“The Alps,” you repeat, slightly untangling yourself from his hold and crossing your arms against your chest. Tears well up in your eyes and cascade down your cheeks as you look up at Bucky whose eyes are glossed over as well. 
“Y/N, I know. I know, sweetheart. I know I said last time was our last but-” 
You shake your head as you wipe away your tears. “But you have to go, I know.” 
“Hey, once this is all over you and I are finally gonna start that new life together. Just you and me. Ok?” He takes your hand and brings them up to his lips. “I promise.” 
“That’s quite a big promise to keep James.” 
“Darlin’, have I ever let you down?” 
You shake your head no. 
“See?” He tries to lighten the mood with a watery chuckle and a smile, but you could see the pain behind his eyes. 
You return his stare, noticing the way his eyes look brighter in the moonlight because of the tears gathered at his lash line. Using your other hand to caress his cheek, you keep your gaze on his as you try to commit the beautiful blue of his eyes to memory. “Come home to me, James Buchanan Barnes. God knows what I’ll do if you don’t.” 
With his hand still in yours, Bucky pulls you into him and keeps you securely in the crook of his neck. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll always find my way back to you.” 
“I love you,” you sigh. 
“I love you too, soulmate.” 
Your eyes were burning. You could feel it through your closed eyelids from where you lay inside the small tent that you and Peggy shared. It felt like nothing you have ever felt before. The pain slowly made its way down your face, to the side of your throat, and finally stopped at your heart. Letting out a cry you fall onto the floor on your knees as you claw at your eyes. 
Your cries alert Peggy who’s out of her cot and by your side in an instant. “Y/N?”
Another pained cry makes its way from your lips when suddenly the pain just stops. The aches and burning disappear just as quickly as it came. You try to open your eyes and for a moment, you’re surrounded by complete darkness. As you continue to blink away your tears and your blurred vision, your senses finally come back to you. The world is still a bit fuzzy, you’re able to see again. When your vision clears, the first thing you notice is how bleak the world looks. You scan the area of the tent as Peggy continues to fret over you. But you can’t hear a word she’s saying. The only thing your mind could process was the lack of light, no, color around you. The tent that you used to know was a deep shade of green is now a blanket of black. Your eyes darted to a tube of lipstick on the side table that you knew was the most gorgeous shade of pink only to find it reduced to a dull grey. Your body is moving faster than your mind could follow as you stumble out of the tent and outside. You look up at the sky expecting to be met by the most beautiful shade of blue that reminded you of your lover, only to be met with dullness once more. The heaviness on your chest seemed to grow as you frantically sucked in breathes of air through your mouth as if you were using a straw. 
Various nurses and soldiers are rushing past you in a frenzy causing you to turn around to see what the commotion was about. Pushing through the crowd was Steve and the rest of the Commandos who looked like they had just gone through hell and back. Your eyes flit around, trying to find the comfort of your favorite shade of blue, when Steve stops right in front of you. 
“Y/N…” he whimpers with his shoulders sagged and head hung in defeat. 
You look to the other men for an explanation but they only dodge your gaze with a forlorn look in their eyes. 
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, no, no, no…” 
Steve catches you as you let out a gut wrenching sob before falling to your knees. He holds you tight as his own sobs are muffled by his face hidden on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he cries over and over again as he holds your shaking form. The only thing you could cry out to him in response was the name of your lover as you clung to Steve like he was your lifeline. And in a way, he was, being the only thing you had left of Bucky Barnes. 
A wave of rage and anguish washed over you at the loss of your other half as you cried in Steve’s arms until you felt absolutely numb. The world was bleak as you realized you had nothing left to live for. The light, color, and beauty of it all left with the one you loved. Until Steve told you that he was going to take down Hydra once and for all. Your anger and grief clouded your judgement as you practically forced yourself onto the mission with him. Gripping onto Steve’s shoulder as he looks at you with sadness in his eyes, you give him one last reassuring smile. Helping take out Hydra and its leader was the least you could do after all the pain they had inflicted upon you and others. If you could, you would take out every last follower of Hydra standing for taking away your other half-- your soulmate. 
Closing the compass in his hand, Steve looks up at you one last time with a bittersweet smile on his face. “For Bucky?” 
Letting out an exhausted laugh, you close your eyes and brace yourself for impact as you envision the smiling face of James Buchanan Barnes. “For Bucky. ‘Til the end of the line…” 
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kadeuuijib · 23 hours ago
Hi, love you work ❤️ Could you do anything with sub!laszlo? 🥰
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whenever i think of sub! laszlo this image comes to mind and reminds me , yeah im not the only one thinking these thoughts.
sub!laszlo kriezler headcannons
i think laszlo is an interesting man. he is often caught up in his own head, usually too busy to tend to his own needs as he is tending to others so i think in bed, he would relinquish full control - which would be hard for such a perfectionist.
as far as everything goes, he never is not a gentlemen, being polite.. almost too polite. he’s very obedient and likes to follow orders for that structure he so desperately craves.
he has a definite praise kink, with an overstimulation & mommy kink. (at least, i think so. look at him.)
his approval for praise runs so deep he desperately craves being acknowledged for his hard work, and for listening to his mistress.
im imagining a late night at his desk, skimming through files and misplaced projects, papers, etc. when he finds himself thinking of his partner. the way they laugh, their crinkles near their eyes as they smile, the way they know just how to turn him on with just mere words. and with his brain turned off, he would go ahead and start teasing himself, because if he didn’t get to work soon - no work would be done.
after walking in on the site, and slipping quietly behind laszlo, a simple kiss against his neck, or his ear would send him into a whimpering mess. “laszlo, dear? is there something wrong?” you’d ask, not glancing beneath the desk. his head would shake yes, frantically muttering out a quick, “yes darling! no worries..”
“laszlo i can tell when something is bothering you, please tell me darling.” you pleas, softly, catching on to what is going on simply by the tone of his voice. your hands linger across his arms, pressing your chest against his shoulders. “well.. what have we got here?” you whisper, glancing down at the wet spot on top of his trousers.
he lets his head hang in embarrassment, not facing you as he mutters out a quick, “i’m sorry...” you instantly felt like taking charge as you pull the chair out, balancing on your knees between his, prying his legs open even through his disdain. “laszlo, darling don’t be embarrassed. this is natural. mommy will take care of you, yes? like i always have.” you reassure him, his eyes slightly glancing upwards as you spoke. “mommy?..” he repeats, moving his hands off of his trousers where the stain laid. “yes, laszlo. for such a smart boy, you should know i’ll be here to tend to your needs.” you praised him, fingers tugging at the belt around his waist.
i also think he would be into dumbification but maybe it’s a personal preference, he’d want to be fucked into submission, almost stripping him of his title as dr. he wouldn’t want to worry about anyone or anything, all he wanted to worry about was you, your pleasure, and how he can serve you best.
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buckybeardreams · 23 hours ago
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Pseudo-Incest, Daddy Kink, Implied/Referenced Sex, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Established Stony, Adopted Peter Parker, Harley Keener is Tony Stark’s Adopted Child
Series: Part 1 of Love in the City
Steve has a daddy kink, but that’s a hard thing to explain to your eight year old, or so Tony learns when he finds out that James overheard them roleplaying. As it turns out, Bucky develops a bit of a daddy kink of his own as he grows up. What happens when their little boy, now fully grown, returns home?
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thundering-barnes · a day ago
Forgotten Love - part six: no longer one of them
chapter summary: the truth will set you free, if it doesn't kill you first. The team interrogates you and your past.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
words: 2.3k
warnings: language, mentions of torture, needles
A/N: sorry it's been a while but finally got around to finishing this chapter. Pls like, comment and reblog as always! :)🤍
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You look around the blank, boxy room. Then down at your hands, where your wrists are chained to a table. Then down at your ankles, where they are chained to the chair you’re sitting on. It’s been at least thirty minutes since you were left in here by yourself, struggling in your restraints. Your breathing becomes rugged and you can’t hold down the panic rising within, no matter how hard you try. Even closing your eyes, all you see are them. In a sudden rush of emotion you manage to yank yourself free from each chain and stand, pushing the chair from behind you and sending flying back, hitting the wall and crashing to the floor. You look up to the wall opposite, noticing your disheveled reflection in the mirror, fists balled up tight. A one-way mirror, no doubt.
“No, no, no, no, no.” You repeat to yourself. Your hands fly to your hair, raking through it and grabbing while your chest heaves and your head spins. Steadying yourself with the table for a moment to calm yourself as best you can. You tread carefully towards the door but stop in your tracks, physically frozen in place as you try and place how many footsteps are heading towards you now.
There are seven of them. Three, you notice, stay at the door whilst the others carry on, presumably to whatever room is behind that mirror.
The door opens.
“What in the-” Fury begins, seeing you standing before him and noticing the mess you’d left. “Let me see your hands.” He brings up a gun that seems to glare straight at you, as if to say there’s no getting out of this. So, you show your hands.
Tony and Nat are behind him and Natasha walks to the chair that is on its side, picks it up and sets it back down at the table, then motions stoically for you to sit back down.
“Take a seat. We’re gonna be here for a while. And before you try anything stupid, don’t.” Fury states. You sit back down and suddenly notice the dryness of your mouth and throat.
The three of them now stand before you, looming over like the shadows of your past.
“There’s a lot to unpack here, so I suggest we start with whatever the hell just happened upstairs.” Tony begins. His face is forbidding, as are the others, and his arms are crossed.
You remain silent.
“This is the part where you start talking.” Your gaze shifts to meet a single, harsh eye. God knows he only needs one to get the job done.
“What Barnes said. Was it true? Did you help torture him as the Winter Soldier?” Natasha’s voice is demanding, needing.
“No.” You say, finally mustering up a word. “Well, yes. No and yes.”
“What do you mean no and yes?” Fury leans forward on the table.
“Not exactly.”
“Cut the crap. Did you, at any point, help HYDRA in torturing Bucky?”
Silence. Then,
“Yes.” It came out as a broken whisper.
Behind the glass, Bucky takes in a sharp breath. Deep down he knew it was true, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it not to be.
Someone begins walking towards the door from the opposite room. Steve enters and switches out with Tony. Steve looks more disappointed than anything, which makes your heart ache more.
“Why? Why were you with them?”
“Just answer the question.” Steve closes his eyes in exasperation, letting his head fall forward. He can barely look at you.
“I was alone, back when I joined.” You begin. “At the time I was sheltering in an abandoned warehouse that was half blown to pieces. They found me. I was vulnerable and they knew it. So they took me in, fed me, gave me a roof over my head, a proper one. I thought they were good people, at first.” You’re looking down at your lap as you speak, not wanting to risk looking anyone in the eye.
“And how do we know this isn’t some bullshit story you’ve made up to get us to sympathise with you?” Nat chimes in, brows knit together by the thread of betrayal.
“For all we know you could still be one of them. Feeding everything back to them since you got here. Is that what you’ve been doing? Gaining our trust in order to have inside information? This whole goddamn time.” Steve is angry. More than you’ve seen him before. But it’s not the kind of anger that him and Tony might share when the other gets on their nerves, no. This anger is the one that comes from deep within you, that only shows when you’ve been stabbed deep enough in the back for it to come seeping out all crimson red.
“No, it’s not like that. I’m done with HYDRA, I promise.”
“Well that promise doesn’t mean much to us.” Fury comments.
“I know. But it’s all I have.”
Fury holds his fingers up to his ear. “Hill, bring it in.” A moment after Fury’s request she is heading round and into the room. She passes him a folded piece of paper.
“This,” he begins to unfold it. “was surprisingly easy to find. Inside a book? Really?” He leans onto the table and slides the paper forwards. You are now face to face with yourself; the file page you'd retrieved from the first mission. You rub your hands together, as if hoping for a genie to appear so you could wish for this to have never happened.
“That’s not me. Well, it is me. But it’s not who I am. The person you’ve come to know since I joined this team is the real me. I’m not that person.” You look back down at the photograph of your deadened self. “Anymore.”
“Care to explain?” Nat asks.
“After a while with HYDRA, I realised that some others from the rooms near me were being taken somewhere else. I didn’t know where, though; they wouldn’t tell us. Eventually I was the only one left, and none of the others had come back yet.” Your throat is dryer than ever. “They took me to a room. A dark one. And they sat me in a chair. Strapped me down. I could hear some screams from neighbouring rooms but they dismissed it, said people were hurt and they were treating them. They were lying, of course, but at the time I was naive enough to believe them. They stuck a needle in my arm and released an acidically blue liquid into my bloodstream. At first it was excruciating. It felt as though someone was searing my veins as it moved from my arm and into my chest, then up my neck and down my torso. Then it was everywhere. My mind was so clouded with pain, until it just… stopped. I felt numb. And after that, HYDRA turned me into their own personal weapon. Because I was their success. I was the one who survived. They had used a different serum on all twelve of us, trying to find one that worked. And it finally did. At first I felt special to have been the one that survived. Proud, even. But soon it turned into something more sinister, and I realised how lucky the others were…”
The silence in the room is deafening. To a point where you have to start shuffling in your seat just to rid it. It’s hard to gage anyone’s emotions at this point. Natasha leaves, silently, without glancing back. Though she doesn’t head towards the others behind the mirror, she walks away in the opposite direction. Your heart hangs heavy in your chest with the thought of having hurt her this much.
“So, you’re telling me, the serum we found on that mission last week hasn’t just been created? They’d already figured it out and used it on you?” Steve’s question is spoken as more of a statement, everyone already knowing the answer.
“Yes.” You whisper.
“And that’s where these powers came from? The serum?”
“Another supersoldier. ‘Cause we don’t have enough of those.” Fury scoffs. “And why do they always have to come from HYDRA?”
“The serum made you stronger and faster. But it doesn’t explain your extra power. Where did that come from?” Steve interrogates.
“The serum as well.” Your voice is weak and strained by guilt as you speak. “When they were recreating it they also… experimented with it. Once they knew they perfected the original serum they started tampering with additional elements and quantities. It wasn’t until me when one of them worked. The serum they’d created managed to grip on to certain sensory nerves and cells and increased the sensitivity, or… something about exteroreceptors, maybe? I can’t exactly remember the science of it all-”
“So, just like that, we’re supposed to trust you?” Steve cuts you off, his vigilant tone as unnerving as his stare.
“Send Barnes in.” Fury motions to agent Hill, who exits the room, only to return with him: the one person you thought could get you out of this situation.
Bucky keeps his head down, making sure to avoid any eye contact. You desperately want to yell the truth at everyone - the whole truth - but you know that wouldn’t be wise. Especially since they’re already sceptical of everything that’s coming from your deceiving lips. They would never believe that. He would never believe it.
Not until he remembers it all.
“Bucky, do you know if this is the truth?” Hill cautiously asks him.
“No, you don’t know, or no, it isn’t the truth?” Fury inquires.
“No, I don’t know.” He states, finally looking up and meeting your gaze. You can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s evident that these newly found memories haven’t treated him well. Especially since he’d started to take a liking to you, which he never let be known. He didn’t know what to make of it when he began to feel a strange, but strong, pull towards you. As if there was some invisible string that was pulling, connecting, the two of you together.
It frayed and snapped as soon as he remembered.
But knowing that he’d felt it in the first place makes his head hurt all the more.
“So, number 12, what is your real name?” Fury looks straight into your eyes, almost burning through your skull with his intensity.
“And don’t even think about lying to us again.” Steve snarls. You hesitate for a moment, drawing heavy breaths.
“My real name- my real name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Let’s put it to the test, shall we?” Fury proposes.
A few moments later, you’re being hooked up to a lie detector by Bruce. He then sits diagonal to you with the polygraph machine in front of him.
“We’re set.” He states.
“Perfect. Let’s get started, shall we?” Tony is now back in the room. A full house.
They don’t hesitate with the questions, getting straight into it, yes or no.
“Before you joined this team, were you a HYDRA agent?” Hill begins with. There is no way for you to escape this, no stopping the rollercoaster from plunging down as you reach the top.
“An assassin?”
“Do you still work for them?” Steve’s turn.
“Do you still associate yourself with them in any way?”
“Are you in contact with them?” Tony asks.
“Do you plan on going back to them? Becoming one of them again?” Steve begins again.
“No.” You answer through gritted teeth now.
“Bruce?” Fury chimes in, and all heads turn to him, as he reads the coloured lines on the paper.
“She’s telling the truth so far.” He confirms.
The questions, the interrogating, it continues for several more minutes. Questions like: Are you loyal to this team? Are you really here to make good of your past? Is that life with HYDRA over for good?
Yes, yes, and yes.
“Did you assist in the torture of a Seargent James Barnes whilst you were a part of HYDRA?” Fury reads from a sheet, making sure to leave no stone unturned. A stone that it feels as if he just threw at your stomach. You force your eyes upwards and to Bucky’s, brimming with sadness.
“Yes.” Your answer feels so sour against your tongue. You pry your eyes away and they fall to the floor once more.
“All true.” Bruce confirms once more.
“Last question.” Fury walks forward. “How did you manage to get through our system, without us finding any trace of who you really are?” He speaks slowly, deeply, sounding like he has gravel in his throat.
“The old me was classed as dead. I had nothing to my name, not even a life. And HYDRA didn’t make it their first priority to give me one. So, technically I was no one. It wasn’t that hard to create a completely new person. A clean slate, if you will.”
Everyone’s faces are stern, yet utterly mindfucked. No one knows what to think. Fury stands tall and motions his head to the door whilst looking at the others. Everyone exits the room in a disappointed silence.
Bucky is the last to leave. He stands, with his arms crossed and brows furrowed, directly in front of where you sit. The prolonged eye-contact is laced with an unknown, but oddly familiar,  tension.
“Bucky, I-” As soon as you begin to speak he follows after the others and shuts and locks the door behind him.
Once again, you’re left with just yourself in the vacant room, besides the company of the chair, table and your infinite, anxiety-ridden thoughts of what the hell is going to happen to you now.
@buckysjuicyplums @901seconds @walkwithfluffyangels @infernal-fire @ohashley101 @mrs-fanfiction-2001 @buckys2thicc @freigeistundanderes
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wxnda-maximxff · a day ago
strawberry pancakes // bucky barnes
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DESCRIPTION: Lily Osborne and Bucky Barnes were never blessed with an easy relationship. Whether it be emotional trauma, or Lily's parents trying to be evil scientists. But they somehow made it work, after coming together once again after the birth of Lily's nephew. They were smooth sailing for a while. He proposed, they got engaged, but have yet to marry. While also juggling raising a teenager together as Hunter reaches the age of 16 now. All the while struggling with adjusting to their new lives in Long Island, balancing careers. Meanwhile, Lily struggles with the new found fame of being the fiancé of The White Wolf; and handling the tabloids critiques on her life and gossip columns digging up any information they can on her. While trying to maintain a low profile; and handle her life as it is. And becoming parents. Lily for the second time, while Bucky, well, this is his first attempt at a biological child. All the while a new threat from their past rises up once again, blind siding the family. Bringing forward old hatchets that had been buried, and putting their relationship at risk once more.
DISCLAIMER:  I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else
STATUS: Unedited
NOTES: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.
Chapter One: The One With His Outburst
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2241
    The mix of barking and meowing stirred Lily Osborne from the depths of her sleep. The feeling of a warm body pressed close to her back earned a content sigh from her, his warmth beckoning her to pull back into her sleep. But the melodic noise of animals fighting kept her wide-eyed. A groan vibrated in her throat as she slid from her fiance's grip, stepping into her slippers. The blonde glanced behind her and chuckled lowly at the peaceful face of her hopefully, soon-to-be husband.
The howling continued and Lily stood to her feet, sneaking from her bedroom and down the stairs of their home. She began shushing the noisy animals when her feet hit the bottom, rounding the corner and separating the three animals.
"Why must you three do this every morning," Lily whispered, picking up the bright white cat the two dogs had been harassing, "I know they're so mean to you, Alpine." She cooed, scratching the cat's head, "Poor boy."
The cat cooed before hopping out of Lily's arms, racing down towards the small cat door that led into the expansive backyard. Lily followed close behind, watching the white fur dance along the boards of the dock, before perching on one of the posts near their boat.
Turning on her heels, Lily glanced down at the two dogs that stared up at her, wide-eyed and ready for their breakfast, "Well aren't you two just a sight to see." She grinned, bending down and scratching the Bernese's ear.
Along with the ever-loving cat that they had adopted, the small family rescued a Bernese mountain dog that was being used for dog fights in an underground ring in New York. They named him Chandler, coinciding with the german shepherd they had, Joey. Lily had made sure that the names matched, for only having Joey just didn't make any sense. She tried to name the cat Ross, but her lover was not having it.
After Lily made her coffee and fed the dogs, she found herself stepping out onto the back porch, finding a seat on the swinging bench. She curled into the light blue and navy pillows, allowing the warm sun to seep into her skin as it rose higher above the lake. Glancing at her phone, she saw a few texts from her best friend and chuckled at what was contained.
"Did you know Leo spits bananas at people? Rose forgot to tell me that while I was babysitting."
Typing back her response, notifying Gen that she did indeed know that, Lily chuckled. It was moments like these that reminded her just how lucky she was for the life she led. A loving fiance, great pets, a beautiful home, a perfect job, a son that she wouldn't trade for the world, and-
"Mama!" the young girl's voice rang as she pushed open the back door, walking over towards the blonde with a bright smile on her face.
"Well good morning Stella," Lily chuckled, placing her mug down and lifting the four-year-old to the swing with her, "What are you doing up so early hm? It's only 7." The blonde asked, kissing the dark brown curls on her daughter's head.
"Loud noises." Stella shrugged, looking over at the two dogs playing on the grass.
"And daddy was snoring."
Lily lifted her head and smiled at the man that had emerged from the house. He had a cup of coffee in his hand as well, and walked over towards his two girls and took a seat next to them. The blonde smiled up and pressed a quick kiss on the blue-eyed man's lips. Bucky Barnes. War hero. Ex-assassin. Avenger. Fiance. Father. Love of her life. Despite the obstacles that were continuously thrown in their path, the two found each other each time. And hadn't parted since.
"How do you think mama feels, having to sleep with him every night," Lily teased, tucking a strand of her daughter's dishevelled hair behind her ear, "Might just have to join you in bed tonight."
"Haha very funny," Bucky chuckled, plucking the four-year-old from Lily's arms, "you wouldn't dare steal mom from me would you?" he teased, kissing the brunette girl's cheek, "C'mon, let's get you fed and then get you off to school hm?"
"I wanna stay hooome," Stella whined, leaning her head on Bucky's shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Lily scoffed as she watched Bucky's face fall and grow softer as his daughter stared up at him with those bright blue eyes she inherited from him. The three fell silent for a moment as Bucky tried to keep his will intact long enough to tell Stella she had to go to school. But it was when he looked up at Lily with puppy dog eyes, she realized she was gonna have to play bad cop with the young girl this morning.
"Sneaky girl," Lily chuckled, standing from her seat and scooping the four-year-old into her arms, "Giving daddy those eyes. Y'know, I invented those eyes. You're welcome." She teased, turning and walking back into the home.
Lily sat Stella down in her chair at the table, before wandering into the kitchen and pouring her daughter a bowl of Cheerios with strawberries on top. Stella had an allergy to blueberries, meaning that Lily and Bucky had to work around the attachment they all had to them to accommodate the newest addition to the family. Hunter just about threw a fit when he realized that they wouldn't be able to have blueberry pancakes as often anymore.
"Morning grumpy," Bucky grinned as Hunter walked into the kitchen when he came back in from the porch, "Looking as excited to be up as ever." The supersoldier teased, ruffling the 16-year-old's blonde hair.
Hunter gave a disheartening grunt in response before popping two pieces of toast into the toaster, staring at it dead-eyed as he attempted to wake himself up. Lily chuckled and poured the boy a cup of coffee, sending it his way before placing the cereal down in front of Stella for her.
"Hey can you promise me not to be late for class this morning," Lily sighed, bumping her elbow on Hunter's arm, "I don't need another call from Ms. Humphrey in the middle of an examination again."
"I make no promises." Hunter quipped, giving his mom a tight smile before sliding into the seat adjacent to his younger sister.
Lily sighed and sent a quick glance towards Bucky. Hunter had been acting up at a continuous pace, furthering his attitude towards Lily specifically. The room fell silent as everyone resumed eating or drinking their coffee. Bucky sent Lily an apologetic smile when he caught her staring at Hunter with a saddened look on her face. When finished, Lily plucked Stella up and carried the dark-haired girl up to her room to get her ready for school.
"Hunter come on!" Lily called after buckling Stella into her car seat, "I don't want Stella to be late!" The blonde sighed, chuckling as Stella pointed out that Lily had a coffee stain on the corner of her mouth.
"I don't get why I have to go to school so much earlier just because Stella's starts earlier," Hunter sighed, climbing into the front seat of the car, "Can't I just get a ride with Bucky when he goes to work?"
"No, because Bucky is going the complete opposite way of your school," Lily hummed, taking a seat at the wheel, "Plus, it puts me at ease knowing that there's less of a chance of your dad calling me wondering why he keeps getting emails that you're late."
"Why do they even email him, it's stupid," Hunter muttered, popping one of his earphones in.
"Don't say that word around Stella, we've talked about this."
"Right, always have to watch out for Stella." The sixteen-year-old muttered, staring out the window.
"Don't start this right now, Hunter. Please."
Lily muttered a few unflattering words as she pulled into the driveway of the large beach house that she was fortunate enough to call home. However, she knew the teenage boy that sat inside the house would not feel fortunate that his teachers were so vocal with his mother. Slamming the car door, Lily stormed up towards the front door, throwing it open with such frustration she thought she herself had become a supersoldier like her fiance.
"Doll hey," Bucky smiled, jogging forward with Stella in his arms, "I know it sounds bad but let's get Hunter's side first- "
"Hunter's side?" Lily scoffed, dropping her purse, "What side, Bucky? He swore at a teacher today. What validates that?"
"Maybe the teacher said something to provoke him." Bucky smiled slightly, a weak attempt to calm down the fuming blonde.
"Have you talked to him?" Lily asked, sliding her coat off and hanging it up on the stand.
"He won't come out of the attic." He sighed softly, bouncing Stella in his arms.
Lily stormed past the brunette holding their daughter, running up the first flight of stairs to the second floor, before mounting the ones leading to the attic. She stopped at the top of the stairs, glancing around the attic in search of the dirty blonde boy she was hunting for. Lily spotted him at the birchwood desk, staring at a blank computer screen. Dropping her bag, the blonde walked over, not attempting to be quiet as she pulled a chair around next to the boy, arms crossed over her chest.
"Something you want to explain to me, Hunter?" Lily stated voice calm and collected as she waited for her son's response.
"If you listen to my side of the story, maybe," Hunter responded, shutting his laptop and turning in the chair to face his mother.
"I'm all ears."
It didn't take long for Lily to end up on the phone with Syosset High School, fuming with a new type of rage that Lily only ever summoned when these specific issues arose. She paced around the back deck, waiting for the line to be picked up so she could let the teacher have a piece of her mind. Though she was sure when they did, the school would've wished they hadn't messed with the Barnes-Osborne family. Especially when it came to the former name in the equation.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Tyler. It's Lily Barnes, Hunter's mom," Lily began, her lips stretched tight, "And I would like to speak with Ms. George about the things that were said to my son today in class."
"Why don't you, Hunter, and Mr. Barnes come by the school. I have Ms. George in my office here." The principal commented, her voice as calm and cool as Lily's.
That was the first mistake on Mrs. Tyler's end. See, over the years, Lily found that fire that burned deep within her. She had allowed herself to feel loved and confident, with the help of therapy and her fiance encouraging her. It only amplified the fact that Lily was the common mother bear that would not hesitate to go to war for her children. Specifically when it came to people spitting on the image of her family.
"Want to tell me why you called my son's father a terrorist?" Lily snapped as she stormed into the office of the high school, making a b-line towards the principal's office, "Because as far as I'm concerned, that's crossing a line."
"Ms. Barnes, please sit." Mrs. Tyler smiled, a tight one that made a shiver run down Lily's spine.
"Relax, love," Bucky whispered, hand finding the small of Lily's back, "You blowing up won't help the case."
"If I may-" Ms. George piped up, earning the coldest glare that Lily had ever dished out.
"No, you may not. You, Ms. George, have crossed a line here," Lily snapped, walking further into the office, "You may teach American History, but clearly, your mind is stuck in the 20th century. My fiance has saved this world more times than you can count, and if you think for a moment I would sit by idly and allow you to say that to the father of my children? You're as dumb as you sound."
A sigh escaped from both Hunter and Bucky's lips as they took a seat behind the roaring Lily, Stella situated comfortably in Hunter's arms. Both knew better than to step in between Lily when it came to this sort of topic. Bucky was the one person who made Lily feel genuinely safe in the world and hearing someone say he was anything but a hero made her stomach twist into violent knots that set off the fire within her.
"I agree the comment was inappropriate," Mrs. Tyler began, "but we are concerned about Hunter's response. We do not tolerate that type of aggression here at Syosset High."
"I don't care what you tolerate, Maria. Ms. George has insulted my son's father and the man that has helped raise him. And has thrown the term terrorist out like it was nothing," Lily continued, chest heaving, "My son had every right to lose it on her. It was a personal attack and insult. So if you think I will be disciplining my son for defending his family? You're mistaken. Suspend him, I don't care. Because I would prefer to teach him myself if this is the education he will be receiving here."
"It's Ms. Barnes, to you."
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eloquent-vowel · a day ago
04.05 "Type of" Bucky x OFC (#043)
Description: After two years of upgrades, #043 is finally woken up permanently. Just in time for her fight with the Winter Soldier.
Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC
Warnings: Canon typical violence
Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the first meeting between #043 and the Winter Soldier. <3
Part 3
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The lights were bright. Too bright, the ceiling was blindingly white and it burned. The light burned. Her eyes were dry, so dry, blinking hurt but having her eyes open hurt.
Everything was loud, not everything, some things were quiet, the things that were loud were meant to be quiet. The buzzing of the air conditioner, the static sound of electricity, footsteps that sounded close but felt far away. It was overwhelming but she couldn't speak, there was something in her mouth.
A high pitched whine filled her ears, they began to ring, louder and louder, until it drowned out the buzzing.
"#043, you have finally woken up."
The ringing in her ears ceased and she could now hear the chatter in the room. A face blocked the light from her eyes, a familiar one.
"It is likely you don't remember but you have been up before." Dr. Leeb began to fiddle with some restraints on her wrists. "We had to wake you up to test if the enhancements worked. It may have taken two years but I believe we have made the latest breakthrough in mechanical enhancements."
#043 was finally able to sit up, disorientated and confused. She had never seen the room she was in yet it felt familiar. White walls and medical equipment surrounded her, there were a couple of men in white coats chatting by the door.
"You are a stunning success #043, almost enough to atone for your previous mistakes." Dr. Leeb undid the restraints on her ankles, as #043 sat up to face him. "Now I want you to do something for me. Listen to the men over there." He pointed to the men in lab coats. "You can't hear them now but perhaps if you just focused, you may be able to."
#043 didn't quite know what focusing your hearing felt like but she did was Dr. Leeb said and focused. Her ear began to burn slightly as she focused in but eventually she could hear the two men talking as clear as day.
"... chip in the Occipital and Frontal lobes, replacement of the Stapes, enhanced prosthetics and enhanced senses, what type of monster is..."
#043 tuned out, before nodding at Dr. Leeb.
"What were they talking about, dear?"
"Me." She paused before staring right at the Doctor. "What did you do to me?"
"We have simply made you better now! Enhanced sight and hearing. I upgraded you prosthetics to fit your fully grown form and added some extra bonuses in them! #043, click your heels together."
#043 slowly stood up from the bed, Dr. Leeb seemed much smaller than she remembered. Her knees almost gave out when she put her full weight on them but she caught herself on the IV pole beside her.
"We haven't got all day!"
Struggling, #043 balanced herself the clicked her heels together. There was a slight hissing noise and two small blades perturbed from her feet, from the heel on her left leg and the toe of the right. She clicked her heels again and they retracted.
"Brilliant aren't they. Come on now, its time for you to get used to these new legs and then it is time for you to fully atone."
Although he wasn't mentioned by name #043 knew that her atonement was in the hands of The Winter Soldier.
The Soldier stood on the edge of the fighting ring. It was a large concrete circle with walls built up around it, high enough to prevent escape but low enough to allow scientists to stare at him from above. He knew little of why he was here, other than to fight yet another contender. He was tired, tired of the endless fighting, he always won in the end and those who would lose to him would be taken away for more enhancements or to be disposed of.
For this fight, however, there was a palpable tension in the air as the men above him whispered to each other. He was unarmed, except for a small knife which he was currently flipping between his hands. He was unsure how long it had been, how long he had been waiting for but just has the knife in his hands flipped at the fastest it could the doors on the other side of the chamber opened.
The doors parted to reveal a tall figure, probably as tall as him. She was dressed in a similar fashion to him, black vest and her hair pushed out of her face. The Soldier analysed his opponent. She rivalled him in stature, and her eyes were just as sharp as his as he saw her sizing him up as well.
His eyes flicked down to her legs, he felt his arm whirr slightly as he recognised the same mechanics used in both her legs. They were made of interlocking metal parts that glinted in the florescent lights, with every step she took there was a slight whirring as the metallic joints folded over each other.. Her right leg still had her own knee and was made of metal from there down in contrast her left has an artificial knee joint that clacked slightly when she straightened it, the metal plates going far enough up to just brush her hip.
He walked towards her until they met in the middle. He was right, she was the same height as him and almost as broad. Once she was closer to him, he saw that her shoulder's were littered with scars. They were uniform and regular in their placement, perhaps they were a weak spot of hers? He followed her arms down to see the knuckle dusters clasped in her fists. He looked down at his small knife, this was to be a game of wits as well as strength.
All in all he saw her as a threat, he knew he would have to avoid her legs. Now that she was close enough he looked right into her eyes. They were empty. While her eyes moved over him in a clearly assessing way there was nothing behind them. She was devoid of emotion, his heart beat loudly in his ears as he felt pity. Pity and sympathy. A voice came over the intercom
"#043 meet the Winter Soldier, Soldier meet #043."
They nodded at one another.
"#043, you are to defeat the Winter Soldier. This is the only way you may become Eris. Make me proud, my dear, destroy him."
The Soldier looked as the empty eyes of #043 turned from emotionless to anger, she gave no warning before she attacked.
It wasn't personal, the Soldier was just a target. #043 thought as she launched forwards. Despite not remembering the past two years her movements were the same as always. Chaotic and destructive. She felt her arms moving before her brain and watched as the Soldier jumped to block her.
The two super soldiers battered at each other. #043 felt her arm getting bruised each time she countered the metallic arm. She stared into the eyes of the soldier and he stared back each trying to predict the others moves. They danced around each other. Exchanging pummel after pummel, the brass knuckles caught the Soldier's temple, tearing it. In retort the knife caught #043's cheek. Blood flowed down her cheekbone and she paused.
The Soldier paused too.
They stood for a moment, fists still raised, eyes still locked. There was a hint of recognition that passed between them. A familiarity of shared experience, a moment of finding someone who could finally understand.
"Do I need to remind you what will happen if you lose this #043."
It was enough for #043 to be spurred into action once more. The Soldier was immediately back on the defensive as she attacked him continuously. He couldn't predict a pattern in her blows. She seemed to move with no thought, no direction other than to harm. Her legs kicked out with shattering force and he soon learned it was better to dodge than block. She was unrelenting, while his body was not as tired as hers his mind was beginning to lag. He had to focus, he had no time to switch to the offensive. He had to wait, to wait for her to get tired, for her to slip up.
She punched, he parried. She kicked to his chest, he sidestepped, His eyes narrowed. She was going to kick, with her left, no RIGHT. A deafening clang rang out as he blocked her leg with his arm. Her foot was an inch away from his head. They were both breathing heavily, neither of them having fought someone as similar to the other. Once more their eyes met, the Soldier hesitated- under all the anger and hatred in her eyes was a desperation- fear. She was scared. Not of him. Of consequence, of losing.
She began to push against his arm. The scrape of metal against metal sent shiver's down #043's spine. But she kept pushing, she couldn't lose, she refused to. She grunted out at the effort it took to break the Soldier's guard. She gritted her teeth, she felt his arm give way, she relaxed and was swiftly thrown off balance by the Soldier throwing her leg away. He took the opportunity to run at her.
She was now on the defensive. Using her arms to block in coming knife swipes. Using her legs to parry his own kicks. She tried to get a jab in. Only to have the knife slash across her knuckles, causing her to drop on of her brass knuckles. They clanged against the floor, forgotten as she had to double her efforts to concentrate. She ignored the shooting pain over her hand and continued to block punch after punch.
#043 was tiring. She knew this. He knew it. She felt him doubling his efforts to trap her. Sweat was dripping down her brow. Her usual ability to predict her opponents movements was gone, her brain too focused on surviving. The Soldier drew closer. She blocked a final jab with the knife but he grabbed her. He grabbed her wrists and twisted. She dropped the other brass knuckle. He pulled her close, twisted so that her back was to his chest, and placed his metal arm around her throat. He squeezed.
"Yield." His voice was quiet in her ear, low enough so that Dr. Leeb would not hear.
She struggled, clawing at his arm. She thought of Dr. Leeb, of the chair, of consequences. Black spots began to dance around her vision. She would not go out like this. She focused on her left leg. The chip in her brain that lead directly to her left leg. She really did not want to be disposed of.
Dr. Leeb watched with barely veiled excitement as #043 let out a guttural scream. He watched as her left leg began to twist, it rotated against her skin until it was facing backwards, the foot facing the Winter Soldier. The leg reared back, unnoticed and kicked. Dr. Leeb laughed as that single kick dislocated the soldier's knee. The Soldier loosened his grip and she escaped. They faced each other once again.
The ache in her leg was almost impossible to ignore as it twisted back to the right place. Much to her annoyance the soldier was still standing. They were both breathless, bloody and bruised.
The Soldier grimaced before snapping his knee back into place, he had given enough for it to be considered a fair fight. It was time to end this fight.
They both moved at once. Their dance resumed. This time they were both switching from attacking and defending every other hit. #043 began to launch a series of kicks. The Soldier kept deflecting them. She knew she was becoming predictable but every inch of her hurt. Her knuckles were bleeding. Spraying red droplets everywhere as she continued to punch. In desperation she began to launch a final switch kick. It felt obvious, she saw the soldier's eyes flick to her feet. He knew what she was going to do. It was too late to change. She launched her right leg towards the Solder's temple. He raised his arm.
There was a thud as the Soldier hit the floor. Unconscious.
#043 blinked. He had seen it coming. He had raised to block it. Had he been tired? Was he too slow? Her win felt wrong. She stood frozen over his form. She had won. She was Free. She was Eris. So why wasn't she happy?
"What type of monster have you created Dr. Leeb?"
Dr. Leeb turned to face the General, a joyous smile on his face.
"I have created an unstoppable tide of chaos, General. I have created Eris."
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