WS + prassius
🥰🥰
Oh my, you had to pick the naughtiest! Ok so this took quite a while to write and I literally just finished. And it is pretty dirty, so warning for smut and filth.
I also have another ask for this prompt but in combination with another, so I will post that next (hopefully tomorrow).
Anyway, hope you enjoy this, my dear! 😘😘😘
— PAIRING: dark!Winter Soldier x female!Reader
— PROMPT: Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love
— LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list
— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k
She wasn't what he was expecting to find, and by the look on her face, the feeling was mutual. The girl walked in and turned the light on, a bounce in her step as she crossed the threshold, but all cheer left when she caught sight of him sitting at the kitchen table. His metal fingers were resting on the surface, legs spread and clasped with holstered guns. His face revealed none of the surprise that he, as well, felt. He thought there wouldn't be anyone at home.
The Asset kept his eyes on her as she recovered from the muted shock, trying not to look her up and down, though it did not escape his notice how little she was wearing: nothing but a silky nightgown that ended high above her knees. Something at the back of his mind bothered him: when was the last time he'd seen a woman wearing so flimsy? He couldn't remember. Before he could give in to the temptation to leer at her more openly, she spoke to him.
"Who are you?"
The Soldier was taken aback; if she had asked just about anything else, he might have known. He was saved by the sound of the front door opening.
"You're still up, sweetie?" called her father from the hallway. When he came over and spotted their uninvited guest, he understood her silence. "Go to your room, it's alright," he said, clasping his hand around her shoulder. Neither of them took their eyes off the Soldier, but she turned around and left, her naked feet kissing the floor with little plops.
"You wanted to speak to me," the Soldier said, focusing on the scientist now and trying to forget the girl.
"I didn't know you made 'house calls'," he muttered, setting his briefcase on the kitchen counter. "I assume Brock told you what this is about…"
"Let's compare his story to yours."
They met in a period of some vexation at Hydra. Several of their men from the Winter Soldier program had gone missing — sometimes during missions, sometimes on their way back, sometimes when they were sent to look for their missing partners… one by one. It wasn't the Asset's job to speculate on why that was, but without meaning to, he became involved in it. What the scientist wanted, together with some other men and women from various departments, was to take over. They didn't like what leadership was doing but had no way of taking direct command, so their solution was to organise a crisis and push it to the breaking point. Lead to the fall of all the pieces before them, from either paranoia or punishment or purges, until there were few enough left in their way that they could stage their coup. And all those Soldiers that went 'missing' were actually in hiding, waiting for the right time. They were all promised more freedom once their new masters took over, a more respectable service, more control. The way it worked was: once the scientific staff eased them out of their conditioning enough, their friends in the military wing helped organise the 'disappearance', and they would stay in hiding in some locations unknown even to the staff, until they saw on the news the deaths of those they knew to be their current leadership. A few of them had already fallen.
But this doctor had a problem: in case their attempt failed and Hydra decided to punish him for it, which they undoubtedly would, he didn't want his daughter to be a potential pawn. The Asset agreed to be 'disappeared', Brock would schedule the right 'mission' for it, and he would take the girl with him. She was old enough that they could pass it off as her being away with schooling or some internship.
It took a few weeks, but the day arrived, and she met him at the settled time and place. She was standing by her backpack stuffed with clothes, waiting in the snow at a bus stop miles from the city, when he rolled in on the motorcycle. She seemed surprised to see him, as if until then she thought this was a joke. But once it gripped her, what they were about to do, her poise was broken and she seemed close to tears. The Asset called her over and handed her a helmet.
"You're bleeding," she whispered when she got close enough to see.
She must've spotted the cut at the back of his neck from where he'd cut the tracker out. It was stuck onto some truck now, driving far away.
"It will heal up soon. Climb on."
They dumped the bike at a scrapyard where it would be crushed into an indistinguishable metal cube, and took the train west. He had everything they needed to set up someplace new, and they ended up by the Baltic sea. He rented a flat in a worn out apartment complex somewhere on the outskirts of town, and arranged to pay the landlord — who lived on the ground floor — on a monthly basis through the mail slot. Several of the other tenants had a similar arrangement, and broadly speaking, the people in the area seemed a bit shy and reclusive, but it suited the Soldier just fine. They had their aliases set up, and if anyone bothered to ask, he would say she was his niece.
"You're not old enough to be my uncle…"
"How do you know that?"
The place was small, but it was furnished, even had some glassware and bedding left over from the previous occupants, and there were separate bedrooms. The girl came to terms with the situation, eventually. He wasn't sure what her father had told her, but after the first couple of months, it became clear she was expecting this to last much less than it did. The Asset had to live through her waves of anger, fear, frustration, and then worst of all her low, small, sad acceptance.
It almost seemed she had stopped caring, about so many things. The girl slept in and made him have to wake her up, walking in on her sleeping with the nightgown ridden all the way up to her waist, a shoulder strap off, little foot dangling. She wasted evenings in the bath when she was the most upset — it made him worry sometimes, but he walked in on her alive and reading some soiled novel in the tub, dressed in foam like a pouting Venus. And as the winter went and spring rolled in, she didn't seem to care much how she dressed around the house either. Perhaps her father told her things about him — that he was just a mindless weapon — and maybe he was right, but something still bothered him… or, in a way, it didn't.
The Soldier sat by the radio one evening, sewing up a tattered pillowcase as he listened for reports of any familiar deaths. A smile crept on his face as he heard the pitter-patter of her feet approaching from behind. She always thought she was so quiet…
"So what's for dinner?" the girl asked, leaning on the doorframe.
He nodded toward the oven, lit with heat and cooking a familiar looking pot.
"Not rice and chicken breast again..."
"You want the pickled fish instead?" he asked over his shoulder.
The grumpy female ambled in and sat across from him. He looked her up and down and frowned at seeing her in just a shirt and silky robe, lean legs crossed beneath the table.
"If you're so unhappy with the offers, princess, maybe you should learn to cook."
She scoffed at him but looked away. "What are they saying?" she asked, nodding to the radio. There was a second question in her voice, a hope, a fear...
"Nothing relevant to us," he sighed.
"I'll be stuck here forever."
"No, you won't."
"I will... I know I will," she muttered. He finally looked up at her again to see that cold fury and all her nerve, gone, like it most often was these days. Her elbows rested on the table, chin propped up in her palm, nails worrying at her dried lips, and she just stared at the old-fashioned flower pattern of the tacky tablecloth. When the Asset allowed himself to feel something for the girl, he pitied her.
"Look at me," he gently said, putting down his work. Her face was stuck in its despair, but her eyes, still alive, went up to his cold grey ones. "You trust me?"
She sighed, but nodded.
"You won't be stuck here forever."
Her brow creased and she almost shook her head, but instead she simply closed her eyes, blinking back tears. The Soldier almost reached out to hold her hand, but she got up and stormed off to her room before he could.
Underneath their measured conversations, he knew her true fear wasn't about where she lived, but whether her family was still alive. Whether she would still be alive, once everything was over. And he wondered also, if she ever worried about him that way... But, probably not.
He gave her a few more hours, but eventually he had to go and check on her. The food was cooling in the kitchen, but she didn't seem to care. A steady bounce came from her room as he approached it — she often did that nervous thing with her foot when she laid in bed.
Sure enough, she was lounging on her front, reading some book propped on the floor from what he could tell through her half-opened door. The Soldier stopped to look at her, unsure how to approach the girl from quite that angle, and also feeling intently just how tempting it was. Most of the time when he caught glimpses of her body, he thought back sweetly as he leaned against the wall, she'd known it. Sometimes he wondered if she did it on purpose — to provoke him, or annoy him, or show just how mechanical she thought him. There was a sense of power in seeing her this way, and not the sort he usually had over her...
Eventually, her leg settled down and laid quietly beside the other, but still spread. She seemed to be stretching for something, and without meaning to, he smiled. She could be really sweet in these unguarded moments... But then, the girl leaned back. Then stretched again.
It took a while for him to realise she was laying on a pillow, and with her knees propped on the bed, she rubbed her front against it as she read whatever dirty book it was — she probably hid those under her bed. Her one hand gripped the mattress then, elbow up like a young wing, and as the edge of her short robe inched up, her panties came down looser. Soon, he wasn't watching just to drink her in, but felt swallowed wholly back.
Her moves were quiet, smooth, and somewhat clumsy: sometimes her whole chest rubbed against its cushion, sometimes just her hips curved back, tilting with the motion of an unseen lover. Her head leaned up, then down again, burning with frustration. The Soldier no longer cared if she would catch him, but was too lost to touch himself as, slowly, her panties rode down just enough that, between the arches of her thighs and that column of damp cotton, he could see the flimsy tuff of hair that hid her. It appeared and disappeared with each tilt, teasing him in a way that hurt: so close to being off, still clinging to her flesh, moving seemingly not only with her hips but also with a deeper throbbing... And then, she gave a little moan.
And like some siren call of old, it madly pulled him forward — not much, but just enough to move the door, and the noise it made as it inched forward woke her from her fantasy. Her movements stopped, her head turned back, and with one look over her shoulder, she caught him. The girl looked more afraid than he was, and he was just about to mutter some dumb apology, when she started moving back.
The girl either hated him more bitterly than death, or wanted everything from him, because she started her mad movements up again while she kept her eyes on his, rising over her shoulder like twin moons and clouded by her hair. The Soldier, suddenly, felt done with being scared of her, or timid or attempting gentle feelings, because she was doing this on purpose now, but though his anger played plainly on his face and his jaw was set, eyes warning her, a fire burned at the top of his chest that ate away at him, and gave himself to her.
She didn't stop again until, like a rush of winter wind, he stormed into her room. She didn't get to run, because within two steps he grabbed her. Metal digits wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back, then the other hand grabbed her thigh.
"What are you—?!"
"Shut up," he growled, pulling her toward him. "You're a dirty little liar, aren't you, princess?"
"I'm not!"
"Worried you're stuck here forever, huh?" the man hissed, squeezing her bones lightly. "Is this how you 'worry'?"
She had nothing to say at that, and only tried to pull her leg, in vain.
Seeing her quiet but staring back in fury, he growled "Keep going."
"W-wha—"
"Don't stop. Keep going. Finish it."
The loose tendrils of his hair tickled the Soldier's cheeks as he smiled, satisfied but hungrier, when he saw her do as she was told. He kept her legs apart, and awkwardly she braced her hands on the bed, but managed to go back to that lazy, sensuous little movement: forward — down, and back — a little up, while her teary eyes burned into his.
"You trust me?" he asked her. She dared to shake her head this time. "Do you trust me?" he asked again, voice just above a growl.
"No," the girl pouted.
He smirked and didn't care. She was a liar.
The Soldier held firmly on her ankle while the other hand went up, and as he pushed himself up closer, he moved the robe up her back. Then, hand moving down her skin, he pulled her panties even lower, just low enough to tease. She moaned and closed her eyes, but didn't stop — moving for him, right before him, dressed in only flimsy scraps. His hot palm moved down to her hip and stretched her leg out wider, thumb pressing on her skin to open up more for him to see. She groaned in fear and shame, while he let his face fall to the inside of her knee and breathe her in. Slow and teasingly, he kissed his way up her inner thigh, drinking in her choked-off sounds and pleasured sighs, licking the hints of sweat that formed, and now and then torturing himself with the sight of that coveted little centre.
She whined and almost begged, but saw him stopping somewhere at the middle of her thigh, teeth nipping, lips gentling the bites, while his eyes moved between her partly exposed girlhood and her blushing face. She told herself it was to finish faster, but she started quickening her movements, brushing her wet and exposed flesh against the bedding, love and shame heightening, until she felt the coolth of his breath brush against her, and she tensed.
"Quiet now, sweetheart," he shushed her as her moans turned shrill and broken. "What will the neighbours think?"
The girl bit her lip and nodded, but the shivers kept running up and down her body. She tried to pull her leg back up, but his metal hand held firm, and the Soldier kept her spread while he pecked kisses on her inner legs, eyes drinking in the tremors at her core, and every greedy sigh he gave just teased her flesh even more. She laid down limply on the bed when she was done, and seeing her so spent made him finally feel sorry.
The Asset raised himself to join her fully on the bed, and cooed at her as he pet the soft crown on her head. His girl hid her face in the pillow and closed her legs up tight, but he kissed her shoulder and whispered how sorry he was and how lovely she'd been, and slowly he opened her back up again. He pulled her up and propped them both against the headboard, cradling her in his arms and easing the shivers away.
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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeqtR29u/
I saw this and thought of you 👀
girl I...... I need to lie down omg
where is this from?????? I have so many questions aaaaa
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Not Enough Part 2
You can read Part 1 here!
Summary: The barista from your local coffee shops tries to hit on you, but you brush it off. As your husband, August Walker, find’s out about it he’s clearly having none of it.
Pairing: Daddy!August Walker x little!Reader
Content Warnings: A tad bit of angst, August having BDE
Word Count: - 450
Feel free to check my Masterlist! 🌸💕
A/N: Upon popular request here’s part two!
Tagging: @omgkatinka @littlefreya @ysmmsy @noseyrosey1597 @sugarplum1996
About two weeks later
The car ride to the mall wasn’t exactly comfortable or easy going. With August next to you in the driver's seat you shuffled around and tried to set your racing mind at ease. You tried to concentrate on the fact that he had listened to you eventually, that he’d heard you out and finally let you explain the whole situation to him.
At first he didn’t seem all that convinced, but you knew your husband long enough to know that some things just had to sit with him, to age and in the best case to age like fine wine, sparking understanding and the will to work things through.
To some degree it certainly worked, but you certainly hadn’t expected August to ask you to drive back to the mall with him and take a look at the culprit who caused the whole disaster. Anyway you agreed. If that was the necessary step to put your husband's mind at ease you were all too willing to take it.
******
“What can I do for you, my dear?” The barista asked you first, throwing you an inappropriately excited glance.
“A large coffee, without anything.” You answered, tugging at the sleeve of August’s shirt a little unsure.
Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist gently, eyeing the man in front of you.
“And what about you?” The man asked after scribbling down your order in his notebook,
August cleared his throat, his eyes grazing over the menu boards hanging at the walls. As always, he took his time, carefully crafting his act, his way to respond.
In a slow motion he tipped his chin, grazed over his mustache and looked back at the still smiling barista.
“That’s a really endearing menu..”, August murmured “But it seems that you don’t fit my taste.”
The barista behind the counter arched his brows.
“Oh, how come..? We have plenty of roasts at the ready and..-”
August cut him off with a click of his tongue and leaned in towards the counter.
“You know what I like most?” Your husband huffed towards the staff.
The young man in front of you shrugged his head, seemingly getting a bit nervous at the brute in front of him.
“Then let me tell you…”, August said “ I like guys not hitting on my wife. Sticking unsolicited notes to her, you know?”
The man gulped at the realisation, his cheeks flushing in an obviously uncomfortable shade of red.
“Uhm, of...of course not…” The staff member muttered.
“Great! Seems like we have an understanding, huh?” August chuckled while stroking his stubbles “I’d like a large iced coffee!”
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A/N: I actually wanted to post the new chapter today, but I got distracted during the editing (severely distracted), so here is a nice little teaser 😉 Warning: mentions of daddy!
I don’t think I have ever been in this much pain. The next morning I can barely move my body, without groaning in pain. That workout absolutely killed me. I somehow manage to get to Henry’s penthouse and I go directly to his home office. When I stand in the doorway, Henry looks up from his work. ‘What’s, wrong, baby?’ he asks.
‘Daddy, I’m sore,’ I mutter. Gosh, this daddy nickname leaves my lips way too easily. Is this becoming a problem? Should I stop it or continue?
‘Are you now?’ he asks with a satisfied grin (giving me confirmation that he wants me to call him daddy when I’m with him), as he leans back in his office chair, ushering me over.
I walk over to him and straddle his thighs. ‘Yeah, I am. And it’s your fault.’
He places his hands on my hips and I bury my face in the crook of his neck. ‘Means you did well.’
‘I don’t feel so well,’ I mumble. ‘You know, you should get me a sauna. So I can loosen my muscles and relax them.’
‘You want one?’
I sit up straight again so I can look at him. ‘Daddy, I’m only kidding.’ I have a severe problem. I need to stop naming him daddy for fucks sake.
Telling from his grin, he is not minding it at all. ‘I can get you one.’
‘Shut up,’ I laugh. ‘You are not getting me a sauna. It was a joke.’
Taglist: @diegos-butt // @henryobsessed // @crazybutconfidentaf // @cherry-gemz // @sparklesmolwarriorprincess // @oh-for-fic-sake // @sunshine96love @gearhead66 // @omgkatinka // @thelastsock // @summersong69 // @kakaym // @abschaffer2 // @mis-lil-red // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @pterodactylterrace // @sugarpenchant // @english8muffin // @coloraturadiva // @xobriellaxo24 // @oddsnendsfanfics // @henrythickcavill // @cynic-spirit // @kebabgirl67 // @sugarplum1996 // @shewritesinthethirdperson // @eldarwen333 // @sesamepancakes // @wheretheriversrunintothesea // @legendarywizarddetective // @shamelesssoff // @thehunterintrenchcoat
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This reminded me of you 🤗
I'm not a big DC fan, but this edit is gold
Awww 💖💖💖 that’s indeed an amazing edit. Thank you for sending it to me, baby.
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I'd like to ask Granite + the Soldier
Oooh an interesting one! Did not expect this to be requested with the Winter boi 😂
This turned out fairly short and full of sweetness 💗 Another WS x Nurse but not necessarily a continuation of the previous oneshot - I wrote it with no other fic in mind, honestly.
Thank you for this prompt, my dear! I hope you enjoy it 😘
— PAIRING: soft!Winter Soldier x female!Reader
— PROMPT: Granite - finding out the truth, and strengthening love
— LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list
— WORDCOUNT: 1.7k
They met during one of the secret get-togethers the soldiers started organising last spring. Once there were enough of them, and after they were past the worst of their training, they realised they were getting bored in the evenings, and that the guards were getting lazy. One of theirs befriended a technical officer, and they came up with the idea to take "a little detour" between dinner and lockdown in a secluded shed connected with the barracks through a long and ill-tended yard. Their meetings shifted from relaxing and talking, to games, to play-fighting, to fighting for real. Over time they started inviting a few more trusted people, mainly some nurses and medical staff to patch up the wounds before they went back in, but the soldiers would always be well healed up by morning.
And she was one of those invited, sitting now among the crowd, watching her Soldier fight another, left-hands tied behind heir backs — to even the odds between him and his opponent. These fights, more so than the ones in the training room, were always in good fun, and they never hurt each other more than they could stand, but whenever she was watching he always tried to win.
"You put up a good show," she praised him afterwards, tapping on a tear of skin at his brow with a cotton swab.
"That's all I get?" the Asset teased, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stood between his thighs.
"It was an impressive display of your unmatched power," she sighed, smiling fondly down at him.
"Alright, no need to make fun to me." He’d won, but he still managed to look sad enough that she bent to kiss his forehead; she never could resist him when he pouted, however obviously fake. Melting under her lips, he chuckled and stretched up for more.
"My greedy soldier," his nurse chastised, but let him kiss her anyway, pulling up when he'd had enough.
"Come to my room."
"I should stay, look after the others too…"
"They don't need you."
"I think they need me more than you do right now."
"Come anyway," he grinned.
They sat together in his bunk, with her on his lap while he wrapped his arms around her. For the first time that day he could rest under the feeling of her body warming his bones, the scent of her hair filling his blood, her light breaths and lazy heartbeats so close and dear to him. Her palm was on his elbow, holding him to her while she nuzzled the crook of his neck.
"Hey, sweetheart?"
She murmured in reply.
"Can I show you something?"
"You don't mean something dirty by that, do you?" she asked with her eyes still closed.
"You always think the worst of me," he tutted.
The girl smiled and opened her eyes, stretching lightly. "Show me."
The Soldier got out of the bed and went to another part of the cell she couldn't see, moving things or looking through them, and when he came back he was holding a chain with a pair of old military dog tags. He sat back down and handed them to her.
"Whose are these?" she asked, turning them over to read. It was difficult to catch the embossed writing in the light, and they didn't look like any she'd seen before.
"Dr. Cera dropped them," he shrugged, but at her unconvinced look he added, "Two days ago. When Beardy made a fuss."
Beardy was what they called another of the soldiers, and she remembered that he'd had a violent reaction to one of the shots they gave him in preparation for a mission. The staff had to drop everything and restrain him, so her Soldier was probably left unattended. Next to his file. Where the tags probably fell from — if he hadn't just looked inside and taken them.
"You think they're yours?"
"I don't know. But if they aren't, why… why would they be in…"
She moved her thumb across their surface carefully and sighed. "I don't know any more than you do, if that's what you're wondering."
"I know."
"So… do you think this is your name?" the girl asked, looking up at him. He seemed far less conflicted than she would have thought, keeping a cool head in spite of everything.
The Asset shrugged. "'James' is a pretty boring name."
She smiled and leaned up to peck a kiss onto his lips, waking him from his darker thoughts. "You could never be boring."
Her Soldier smiled and kissed her back. "Still, if they are mine…" he carefully said, moving his thumb across her shoulder in a petting motion.
"You should put them back."
"They'll never find them."
"But if they do… They'll punish you."
"Let them try."
And that was the last time he would see her for a week. She didn't show up for the next fight, she avoided him in the corridors, and what's worse was that he soon realised the dog tags he had shown her were missing. She must have figured out he kept them under a loose floorboard and snuck in while he was away. Speaking to her became even more imperative, but the more she avoided him — turning around when she spotted him coming her way, sticking with her fellow nurses, taking dinner in her room — the more the Asset started to suspect betrayal.
Why would she take that away from him? Why would she suddenly shun him? Was she so resentful of that hint of who he was before, who he was underneath, that she would bury it? Or did she, like the rest of Hydra, think him too unworthy to know?
The fights with his fellow soldiers late at night became less playful, and they eventually forced him to stand down, brooding in a corner all alone while they went on to enjoy the night. He hated her, by now. She was spiteful and resentful and just like all the rest of them, a thief who stole from him what Hydra had stolen already once before. She seemed pleased enough with him when he was just "her Soldier", her nobody, her man with no past and future. Or maybe she just hated that stupid dull name more than he did…
He only caught sight of her again on Friday, leaving a surgery room looking tired and distracted. When he caught her eyes, that woke her up, and she stopped almost as if to say something but then kept walking with the same odd chill.
His hatred, after days of burning, had reached its limit. In the end, why should he be upset with her? She was a traitor, and so was he in many ways. And then he got to thinking: what, truly, had she taken from him? The dog tags, whether his or not, were not something he could use, he couldn't even wear them openly. It was her leaving him that hurt, the lack of her at his side that left him feeling cold, but that was her choice to make. It stung to admit it, but she could leave him when she wanted. And she did. And he could love her, still, even if she wasn't there: and that, she couldn't take away.
The Soldier was woken up that night — or maybe it was morning — by a mess of sound and a rushing of troops. All of their cells were being inspected. Stood with his back to the wall, he watched as the officers ransacked his meagre possessions, his bed, his spare uniforms... And then, they stumbled across that loosened board. The Asset gave no sign of fear, he knew that it was empty now.
A call came through the radio for the officers to leave, then the commander went further into the facility, ordering the soldiers back to bed. It wasn't until the next day that they would learn the cause for all that fuss: a missing pair of dog tags.
"The fools thought one of us took them," whispered Beardy to their close-knit group. "The cleaning lady found them, fallen under a desk. Apparently they slipped from someone's folder."
He didn't say a word, but knew. And soon as he could, the Asset left their group and went in search of her. Pretending to look for something, somewhere, he went through every room he thought she'd be in, and eventually found her leaving her boss' office. Slowly he walked back, leading them to a darkened corridor where she could get lost with him, and this time she was good and followed.
She hadn't betrayed him. Not really, not with any ill intent. He didn't speak, he couldn't do it justice, but the gladness and relief he felt came through with his embrace. Before she could choke out a desperate "I'm sorry", the Soldier wrapped his arms around her, hand coming up to cradle her soft head. His fingers threaded through her hair as he pulled her in for one soft kiss, smiling all the while. She leaned back gently and let him, her lips losing their tension, cushioning his mute excuses, his please, his sorrows, as she slowly realised she was forgiven — though he would have told her that she wasn't because she didn't need to be, she was perfect then and always was — and the girl wrapped her arms around him too, clinging to his neck.
"They found out," the girl whispered, staring at the wall behind. "They searched the archives first, and when they realised they weren't there, they planned to search your rooms."
"They did, the cowards."
"I just went back to the medical office with the tags and kicked them underneath a desk. They staff are happy with that, I think... They don't suspect a thing."
"Not me and you either?" he asked with a coy smile.
She sighed, cupping his cheek before leaning in for another kiss. "If they were watching you or any of us, and they saw... I had to make you stay away. You understand that, don't you?"
The Soldier pressed his lips against her forehead and took his time to breathe her in, relieved now that he knew that all his evil thoughts were shadows, cast by unreal things. He loved her now more than before — he would have even if she didn't, but knowing she stayed true and loved him and did all she could to save him, healed his wounded heart and pride and filled his soul up more than any item from his lost past could.
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Hi, Polly, how are you? Were do you think Bucky's story should have gone? And are into Bucky's comics?
Hello, sweet Plum 😘
I’ll start with the second question: I’m not into the Bucky comics, or any comics in general. I gave some a try years ago, but they weren’t even Marvel ones.
Regarding Bucky’s story. I know in the comics Cap!Bucky is a thing that clearly in the MCU is not, although it somehow feels like he’s just filling in Steve’s shoes and like... he could do better. It’s my bias because clearly I like Bucky better than Steve but yeah, it feels like a downgrade. However. As a continuation of that thought. When I came across the notion of Hydra!Cap!Bucky in some fanart, that really stuck with me.
So one idea of some weird AU where his story is actually more interesting is: during the fight in NYC when Bucky nearly kills Steve and Nat (before Sam literally swoops in), he grabs the shield and leaves Steve high and dry. Takes it back to Hydra. We now have Captain Hydra. Lame as all hell but would be so funny for him to steal Steve’s toy, I am SO sad he didn’t do that in the movie. Also bby looked cool holding it.
Alternatively, Bucky regains control of himself while still with Hydra enough to think and act independently, but pretends to still be the WS; works either as a double agent or just an independent saboteur, takes over from the inside. Makes Hydra his asset. This is actually unrealistic though, because Bucky isn’t so much a leader, he is a soldier (in my opinion). So it would be very difficult for him to self-start in that way, or know what to do once he got power. But it would be an interesting idea, at least. Might even find other people on the inside who dislike the current “management” and they take over together, form a little cell of traitors.
For a more positive story, I’d have preferred it if - Steve or no Steve - once Bucky was free and rejoined society, he’d be gradually rehabilitated (it is immensely stupid that anyone would accuse him of having worked with Hydra of his free will, just the notion that he’s on some sort of probation or whatever or else he goes to prison, like wtf) and would be working either with the Avengers or back in the military or however else - mainly as something to do - and he’d be more of his old self like from the 40s, kind of cheerful and playful, but always with a sad and fearful undertone that seeps in (can just imagine Seb playing this, he’d be so good at it) and as he’s involved in various missions/adventures, this Winter Soldier residue would crop up and make the audience and certain characters wonder how much of a good guy he is, maybe even confront him about it. Cause some conflict which could be resolved in various ways, like he could kill or compromise someone who was ready to accuse him, but he’d only do it to avoid trouble for himself, out of fear, rather than trying to keep his cover. OR DOES HE? Just making it open to a lot of speculation while showing both 40s Bucky and WS aspects in the same character. Honestly a lot of what is bothering me about the later movies and the TV show isn’t just the plot but also how they write Bucky, the dialogue, the actions they give him and actions/reactions they include in the script. Like, it’s clear Seb does the best he can every time, but he can only save the character so much.
So yeah full disclosure: I not only prefer Bucky to Steve, I have a thing for the Winter Soldier or even the idea of Hydra!Bucky. Makes me feel all kinda ways.
For a more realistic ending within the MCU - and I don’t know how doable this is but - I’d really have been happy if Steve took Bucky with him back to the 40s, let him be free and happy and at home. Get a cute lil wife, have a family, make a few little Buckys to run around and drive him nuts. I think that’s the ending he would have deserved, just coming home and having a quiet, peaceful life.
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@sugarplum1996
Also it is confirmed that not only Bucky but also Winter Soldier is in love with the reader <3
The WS is like a Hulk, he is there inside of him, and we see glimpses of his personality sometimes?
How does this work?
I’m answering this separately and under the cut, because I just know it’s gonna be a long one 😂
But tl;dr: WS was always in Bucky, Hydra didn’t make him, they just gave him shape; after Hydra, WS is in Bucky’s control and is basically his more violent subconscious mind. And/or, post-Hydra Bucky is a mix of old BB and WS, rather than pure innocent 40s BB. There’s a distinction between BB (conscious mind) and WS (subconscious mind), but they are not split, there is a continuous bridge between them.
So the way I headcanon it (both in this fic and in Tenderness and Ferocity; and forever, really) is... eh, not necessarily like Hulk? more like Jekyll and Hyde (which is the same thing, I GUESS, like it looks to be a straight-forward inspiration for Hulk).
Way I see it, it’s not that WS is separate from Bucky, but is specific parts of him which have been isolated and can manifest in absence of everything else. In my view, Hydra didn’t “create” the WS, they just chipped away at Bucky until all that was left was, basically, WS, and then they controlled that. It’s more like a separate part of Bucky’s consciousness - for example, all the internal dialogue which is marked in italics, almost all of it is WS (except when Bucky answers back, arguing with himself).
A better example of this than Jekyll and Hyde is a phenomenon in psychology called Autonomous Hand Syndrome. Long story short, it occurs when the membrane that connects the right hemisphere to the left one is severed, and the right hemisphere is outside of the control of the left. In this case, the right hemisphere controls only one limb, incidentally the left arm. People with this condition find that their arm starts behaving independently of their conscious will (i.e. the left hemisphere), like picking things up that they don’t like, slapping people instead of hugging them, strangling them in their sleep, etc. Most often, the right hemisphere/left arm is violent, aggressive, and seems the complete opposite of the person.
The condition used to be called Alien Hand Syndrome, but there’s been a move away from that because the hand isn’t alien, it isn’t foreign, it’s still the same person. It’s all from the same human being, it’s just a different part of themselves was freed from conscious/civilised control and can finally express itself.
But rather than there being a stark contrast between “good” hand and “evil” hand, because Bucky is still pretty much whole, I write him more like a straight continuation from one side to the other, just with this “other” side (WS) being more developed. So he can be fully self-controlled Bucky, or the WS can sneak in a few impulses or reactions, or Bucky just throws his hands in the air and drops everything and lets his more violent side manifest. Cause that’s what Hydra wanted from him, his military skill and his violence. The good parts of Bucky, like loyalty and politeness, those were useless to them.
But just like Bucky has full access to all that made up the WS - because now freed from Hydra, I see it as WS is under his control - WS also has access to the nicer parts of Bucky, which is why he didn’t just beat up reader when he found her with Hamelin, and had enough civilised behaviour to instruct her to go back to the hotel (while still threatening to kill her if she ran away).
There’s even a song in the playlist called Mary meets Hyde from the film Mary Reilly, and in terms of the timeline it’s when reader actually meets WS, when he killed Hamelin. It’s not just because that song is lovely and creepy and sad, but also I wanted to salute the Jekyll and Hyde theme 😂
I think this was very messy, I am sorry! My thoughts are all scrambled but yeah, that’s where I’m coming from with it.
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⛰️ for liberation
first of all thank you for asking! you guys can send me asks about my fics if you wanna :)
⛰️- What was the hardest part?
oh god, overcoming my shame I guess? a lot of the dialogue made my heart hurt lmao especially all the lines people seem to like the most.
I also had a dilemma because I had two different ideas for where the fic could go that couldn’t coexist (under a cut because too filthy for anything else)
when he took his hand off her mouth and made her promise not to scream, originally I considered having her scream for help immediately and him punishing her by fucking her in the ass. only problem was I really wanted breeding kink so I decided to just allude to anal at the end.
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Idk about you but bruised Bucky give me WS and that makes me go 🥴
Especially the first pic, like just so fucking hot
OH MY this ask is a GIFT
Bruised Bucky makes me feel 😭 Yes, especially the first one. I want to kiss him very carefully and take care of him. I want him so much it hurts.
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how did you plan NtD?
I'm decided to write something long and solid (??) right now and I could use some advice 😬 if you have any
Gah I'm not sure if I have any advice, really 😳 The best thing to do, really, is just to plan it. Like, this is how it starts, this is how it ends, and for it to end this way, in the middle I must have x, y, and z.
1.) Write down a skeleton if you can, in chronological order. If you're like me, as you write it you will find new needs ("this needs to happen, oh and this needs to happen as well") and you can also play around with that ("how about I put some foreshadowing 10 chapters in advance haha for fun").
This is how, for example, the lunch scene at The Salt Plate happened:
Would Bucky, realistically, stick with the fake SHIELD-bought wedding rings for their real wedding? No, he'd get personal ones.
So how do I write that in? Can't just have him pull the rings out of nowhere, can I? Solution: introduce a jewellery store.
Where could we see that first? How about a dinner scene to present some Dochian cuisine, give a shout out to some true and quite crazy European dishes like cock testicle stew and Italian cibero, and the Romanian sarmale and Greek dolmades which is cute and humanises the side-characters, and THEN they have a walk and I can give a nod to Bucky having read The Hobbit as introduced in TFATWS, AND mention a jewellery store too.
I was about 6 chapters ahead when I thought to introduce that scene, so I went back and wrote it in, even if the chapter it was in was already finished. If I were a smart girl, I'd have done it from the start.
So yeah, figure out what you want to happen, and the needs of the scenes present themselves.
2.) I spent a lot of time daydreaming, like just sitting in bed and picturing the scenes of the story one by one. Sometimes, I'd think of specific dialogue too, and at those times in particular I stopped and wrote them down (there are definitely some bits I didn't write down, and of course those are forgotten completely, so always be ready to take notes).
So yeah, daydream a lot, picture it all in your head as a movie, always take notes.
3.) Decide what, if anything, you want to pay a homage to. This will serve as your point of reference, like points of gravity in the story that scenes will revolve around.
For example, I knew I wanted to create an atmosphere of continental Europe, so what does that mean? Beautiful, old, slightly worn-down buildings, big old trees, flocks of nuns, Church bells ringing in the morning, those little porcelain statuettes old ladies always have around the house, great food but also weird food, all of the pastries, fancy alcohol.
And I wanted to present the sort of people I've met, and how I've met them: some old, some young, some thin, some fat, cheerful or generally sad, with whatever aches or illnesses they have in their old age, just present them as human and as valuable as anyone younger or prettier or whatever, and always a joy to be around.
So as I knew I wanted to have these types of things/characters as decorations of the story, I needed to create scenes in which they are presented.
I also wanted to talk about certain topics like, reader and Bucky's sense of worthlessness and their (resulting) reluctance to have children. So how do you present that? You have a dialogue in which, one way or another, reader has to mention it, which pushes Bucky to disagree with her because he sees her as wonderful, which makes him re-think the way he thinks about himself. As an aide for this change in Bucky, I also mentioned the bit in the Church where he saw a young family with a baby and got envious.
I wanted to give Hamelin some scenes where he is also humanised, to emphasise the grey-ness of so-called evil characters. So I put in that scene at the bar, where he comforts reader after she's upset with Bucky (why is she upset? a scene is created as a result), and also their dialogue in the garden (why is she in the garden? again, the need creates the scene).
Now, I'm giving this "vague" sort of advice because what I have found to be most helpful is to start from the end. Start from where you want to get, and see how you get there - because you can get there in a lot of ways. You can have a scene, you can have a dialogue, it's up to you.
4.) Write, then re-write, and re-re-write. As there are several ways to resolve your issue of "how do I show the thing I want to show", and as you have the (smart) idea of writing before you start to post, you have all the time in the world to experiment with how you tell your story. So don't be afraid to write something, only to delete it completely. Don't be afraid to write a scene then notice it doesn't fit there, and move it somewhere else.
As an example: those few paragraphs where Bucky was thinking "She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, etc.", those whole like 3 or 4 paragraphs of his thinking about her are in Chapter 12, but they were originally in Chapter 5 when he woke up after their first night in the hotel. They were in Ch. 5 for two whole months, but I eventually decided his opinions were too complex for how little he'd known her, so I moved them and did some re-writing to fit everything because both those respective chapters were completed by then.
There are some scenes, I wrote them and decided they were stupid, so I deleted them. I guess I just needed to write them to get them out of my system, and move on.
5.) Do whatever research you need to do for the story, or just use things you know are cool.
For example, there are some videos from a lockpicking YT channel that I found inspirational (they are referenced in the notes on AO3, but I'm talking about this and this and this). I don't remember exactly if I first saw these before I started writing or shortly after, but in any case, it was around the beginning, and I was like "man, I really want to have a scene where I use this", so I created some lock-picking scenes that did that, and also served as scenes of bonding between reader and Bucky. There were lots of other videos I've seen from that channel (it's a great channel) but these are some that fit in the story.
There was also a news article I saw at some point with those breast pastries (also referenced in the respective chapter on AO3), and I wanted to have a scene to show that too, so I created the one at The Fountainsoul 😂 Some scenes, for sure, could fit almost anywhere. Like, I could've introduced the minnuzzi while they were on the cruise and married, but figured the earlier scenes needed a bit more meat.
So whether you do your research around the sort of scene or story you want to tell after you know what story you want to tell, or whether you know some cool or weird facts you want to reference, that can also help you built up the structure of the story, and provide that skeleton of scenes I mentioned.
I know this advice is kind of lousy 😖 You ask me "how do you plan?" and I say "lol just plan". But this is as well as I can put it into words, at least what I used to write, and what I'm still using.
tl;dr: decide what you want to write, and it helps you figure out how to get there and what you need to write
I hope it can help you, my dear! If you need any other help or just to bounce ideas off me, let me know 💗 I will be here for you.
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@sugarplum1996
"She wasn’t like the women he remembered from before; she didn’t try to make herself seem softer or sharper or more cheerful than she was, with a carefully curled mane of hair or an impossibly fertile figure, nor was her every gesture an invitation to flirt. She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, a girl that never fully grew up but who, with so small a twist, might yet suddenly become beautiful."
This chapter was entirely poetic.
But this part in specific is just kinda breathtaking, it's all tied up, not too little or too much in describing her, keeping us still a bit blind just like Bucky
You have a unique way with words, it's brilliant
asdfghujgfgtd Thank you so much, you’re so incredibly nice ❤ ❤ ❤
I wrote and re-wrote some bits so much, because goodness it’s difficult when you think about it: why people love each other, how can people love each other when they’re not perfect (some people feel like they have to be perfect to be loved, and that’s so not true, but how do you describe it?), and why Bucky would love someone particularly in the context of the girls he was used to.
Now, maybe not everyone can relate to this reader, but I’m sure some people will, even if it’s few, and that’s ok.
tl;dr: reader fics are hard 🥴
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I can't help but see this and think of you
Bc every time I think about Bucky it's your way of seeing Bucky and I go 🥴
(sorry if this is not appropriate 😬)
I... 😂 AM FLATTERED
Why would it not be appropriate! <3 Oh dear what IS my way of seeing Bucky? A grumpy, sassy, hopeful, love-starved big boy, I guess 😭
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Polly, do you like Bucky + Steve's ending? Just curious
You mean from the movies? Steve going back in time and leaving Bucky in the present? I mean I haven't seen whatever movie that was in, but I know about it.
I think Chris Evans just wanted an out and they rushed something through. Canonically it makes no sense (but also a lot of sense, I mean sure Bucky was Steve's best friend, but Peggy's tits looked like need a lot of love).
But yeah, Steve abandoning his best friend in a modernity where he's alone and an outcast is out of character for Steve, and it's unfair to Bucky after all he's been through and how loyal he's been. I think it's poopoo. Like most of the MCU. Anything after CA:TWS is badly written imo which is why I haven't seen it.
But... at the same time, it rained on the Stucky parade and I can't hate it too much (sorry Stuckies, although I can appreciate how absolutely anyone with a pulse would fall in love with 40s Bucky, I don't ship it).
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Oh sweet Jesus, I binge read Nothing to Despair and omg, that series is perfect
The ambience, the side characters, the plot, the characterization, honestly, it doesn't even feel like it's a marvel fanfic. It feels like it's just another spy story with two cheeky idiots.
I loved the description of the reader, all her feelings, the things stuck on her throat, but still she's mysterious enough to leave me wanting to know her more.
And I'm more than excited to see how Bucky will go dark, we see glimpses, but nothing more than the normal little darkness everyone has. It gives me plot twist vibes and I'm here for it
Thank you posting it! And I'll love to be tagged if possible
Oh my goodness this is such a flattering message 😭😭😭😭
Thank you so much! And yeah “just another spy story with two cheeky idiots” THAT’S IT THAT’S THE FIC 😄
I am always so glad and also relieved when I see comments like yours, about the reader and Bucky. I do want to write a reader with a history and a background, so that she fits into the world of the story and can actively participate (either positively or negatively), but I also really enjoy the idea of reader insert and having this nondistinct character. But there’s a point at which a reader can be so nondistinct that nobody can relate to her, so that makes me nervous, balancing that. I’m always second-guessing myself when I write.
But I hear from a lot of people that they enjoy it, and some even really relate to her, so that gives me a lot of joy and just feeling like 💓 💓 💓
Ahem, plot twists, what plot twists? 😏 But yes you’re onto something.
Ugh I love dark!Bucky but I realised I’m really bad at writing him, because he always defaults to sweet and vulnerable and 😭 But I guess you’ll all see when it gets to that.
Thank you again so much <3 Added you to the taglist just now as well.
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@sugarplum1996
I don’t think it’s bad writing at all, Polly. You’re amazing :)
Yeah, definitely, Bucky really got to fall in love with her during a honeymoon bliss. I feel bad for him tho, poor baby just wants love
One question: will they, you know, make a baby? 👀
Does she want a baby as well? Like, obviously not like the, but at all?
(that post is getting so absurdly long I AM SORRY I will answer here 😂)
First of all: 😭💕
Second of all: YES he just wants love. He (not just his dick) is touch staved. He hasn't had affection for so long by this point, and he has so much to give too.
And finally: 😏 Let's say they won't not have a baby. But I'll be honest, I leave it completely vague all the way through. This is mostly because I know some people are really icky about it and I don't want to make them uncomfy, so for their sake I leave it 100% open to interpretation.
As for reader, her thinking is less set-in-stone than Bucky's; her main hangup isn't that she hates babies, but she is afraid of being a disappointing mother. She is terrified of the idea, and doesn't understand how Bucky can actually ???? hope ???? that things can turn out ok? rather than be constantly terrified of the future 😂 He's going to have to push that thought out of her, thoroughly, and often <3
And if do wish for them to make bebe, there will the liiiitle hints at the very end that you can interpret in favour of that, because honestly I too wish to give Bucky all the babies he wants, he deserves to have a family again and can really make reader happy in life 😭
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