#winter soldier au

[dragonpyre]

Got bored so I rotoscoped some Winter Soldier au

Commission info ko-fi

#nightwing #red hood #dick grayson #jason todd #red hooded ninja #young justice #winter soldier au #winter soldier #gif #fanart #fan art #dc #dc comics #dcu #dcau #my art

[buckgasms]

Pom, it has plagued my mind and now it must plague yours. Alpha!Winter Soldier using you as his own person cocksleeve...

Darling, this is such an old ask and I apologise for how long it has taken me, but I just wanted to do it right, so it took me somewhat longer that intended 😅. It has indeed plagued my mind! I hope I can make up for the wait with the very long filth that follows!

Because oh my god YES.

This will be dark with elements of dub-con & non-con so please proceed with caution or avoid if it's not your thing ❤️

Zayka means bunny in Russian because of course he has to have a pet name for us 😂

Imagine if during a mission he spots you? He's hiding somewhere looking for his target, and as he scopes out the area you walk into his line of sight?

And something primal lurches in the pit of his stomach that tells him, he has to have you, as soon as possible.

He points you out to his handler's and they make arrangements. They know sometimes the soldier needs release so they don't argue. As long as the job gets done right?

🌑

You awake in a room unfamiliar to you. Your head pounds as you try and remember what happened. You were just walking through the park when a shot rang out. Everyone fled in different directions and as you ran out of the park.... You were intercepted... Two men in black military gear were calmly walking towards you... Then a sharp pain... Then nothing...

You realise suddenly that your own clothes have been replaced with a hospital gown and nothing else. Your body starts shivering with adrenaline and cold wondering what the hell is going on.

As you try to move the door unlocks and swings open. A huge man with a silver arm and piercing blue eyes is standing there in front of you. He only has a pair of black trousers on but even as the door is being locked again he is stripping them off as you cower on the floor.

"Theres been a mistake" you croak. "I shouldn't be here, I'm not... Please, I don't understand."

He walks towards you and drops to a crouch, running a hand across your cheek and assessing you. "Yes. It's you. I wanted you..." He rises, offering a hand which you don't accept, trying to shuffle away from him as quickly as you can. He threads his flesh hand into your hair and pulls, not hard but enough to stop your movements.

"Be good, be good for me and I'll make sure they let you go. Be bad and I promise nothing. I need you.... It needs to be you."

He sounds almost desperate for you. Like his control is only surface deep. You look at him and see pain behind the strength he easily displays. You glance around. No one is coming to help. Maybe if you're good....?

"Ok..."

With that he lets go of your hair and scoops you up in his arms carrying you to the poor excuse for a bed and places you down with more gentleness than you were expecting. He immediately removes your gown and pushes your thighs upwards, giving him direct access to your heat.

"Perfect" he murmers before diving down and licking and sucking at your cunt. His tongue dips in and out of your heat, then he sucks at your clit before shaking his head and stimulating your whole pussy.

Despite your lack of willingness, it is extremely effective and before you can even catch up, he has you on the edge of orgasm in moments. But he's not giving you that yet.

He grips your ankles and spins you, so your head is now hanging off the bed, inches away from his crotch. "Take it out and suck it" he orders and when you don't move he lands two harsh swats to your thighs. As you cry out you are moved into action. His dick springs free and you grip it before guiding him into your mouth.

He groans and stutters a little before his metal fingers are probing into your folds. The cold, hard metal sends shocks through your body as he chokes you simultaneously. "Fuck, good girl." He growls as his hips slide steadily into your mouth. Drool and tears mix on your face as he fucks your cunt with his fingers. Your moans and wails are muffled but the sensation on his cock sends him feral.

"Knew it had to be you. Fuck, made for me zayka" he growls, his cock pressing further down your throat as he brings you to a earth shattering orgasm. He over stimulates you, until you are flailing your legs to escape his touch.

"Easy, easy now" he says, removing his fingers and pulling his cock from your mouth. You lay, twitching as your body recovers from your climax but he's nowhere near satisfied.

"Up zayka, hands and knees"

You shudder and move slowly into position but he isn't satisfied so moves you again, his little ragdoll to play with. He pushes and pulls you until you are laying on your back, watching as his cock taps on your folds.

"So wet for me hmm? Made for this aren't you?" He waits until you nod, then sinks in, hand around your throat as he sheathes himself all the way. You both emit a long moan at the feeling before he starts pumping his hips again, skin slapping against yours as he fills you up.

Your hands flail around, gripping his metal hand that's fixed around your throat, scraping at his chest. He swats it away. "Touch yourself little slut. Play with yourself or I'll bind your hands" He growls and you can only obey, tentatively rubbing circles with one hand while your other paws clumsily at your breasts.

"Good girl, my good girl"

His praises have such a confusing effect. As much as this is wrong, you want to please him. He's making you feel so good. It spurs you on, with the hope that it will keep you alive. You want it to end. But you never want it to end.

Your walls clench tightly around him and he groans, emptying himself into you as he keeps fucking you to your second, intense orgasm. When he pulls out he watches as his seed drips from you, mixed with your own release and he rubs it together, taking a taste and moaning.

Finally, you think it's done. You curl away and wait for him to leave, but instead strong hands turn you back over. "Not done" he states and drags you to lay on your front, not before you catch a glimpse of his already semi-hard cock.

"I can go for longer than most kayza" he explains as you feel his cock press against your sensitive folds, dragging up to your puckered hole. You whimper and he reaches around, squeezing your breasts and shushing you. "You're doing so well... Be good for me..."

You whine as he sinks back into your puffy folds and holds there. Relishing the feeling of your spasming walls. You barely notice as he spits on to your ass and rubs it around before sinking his finger in slowly.

"Have you been taken here?" He asks, and you nod slightly, "just once" you mutter and he tuts. "This belongs to me now. You and your pretty holes are mine." He lands a slap on your skin and you cry out as he slides out of your pussy and into your ass.

He dips in and out of both holes, using your wetness to ease his entrance into your tight hole. The pleasure mixed with the pain drives you senseless, bucking your hips as he sinks further and further in. Finally he is fully seated and both of you are panting, a fine sheen of sweat covering both of you.

You feel his hand sink into your hair and pull you upwards so your back is pressed to his chest. "Taking me so well... Knew you could..." He ruts upwards, fingers rubbing mercilessly at your clit as he fucks you. You are sure you black out at his fingers slip into your folds and curl towards your g-spot making your whole body tremble. He groans in your ear as you whine, desperate for release again. He sucks bruises into your neck and shoulders, occasionally sinking his teeth down to leave impressions in your skin, marking you as his.

"Please...please" you beg as you teeter closer to your limit of pleasure. "Come for me, come as much as you want... Going to fill up your holes kayza..."

His talented fingers and never ceasing cock drag you to another peak and he holds you tight in place as your jerk and squirm through it. He growls again as he comes in your ass, holding himself in place making sure you don't lose a drop.

You fall to the mattress again and can't help the exhaustion that takes over your body. He climbs over you and drags your body to his. "Sleep kayza, more later..."

🌑

You awake to the feeling of fingers in you, and find his cock being guided into your mouth. You squirm and cry but he shushes you and threatens a spank. "Suck and I'll make you feel good..."

You take his cock in your mouth and he wraps his thighs around your head, trapping you in place as his tongue and fingers delve into your pussy. The focus on breathing removes any other thought from your mind, focusing you onto one task and blocking out the fear that is now dissolving in your stomach. For his part he works your body like he's known it for years, kissing your folds, nibbling and biting your sensitive thighs and curling his finger gently inside you.

His cock tightens before he releases in your mouth, almost choking you in the process. It's clear he has no intention of releasing you until you are dragged to another climax, your walls now intensely sensitive as he curls his finger beyond what you can take, until finally he releases you from the headlock and your body falls backwards.

He hovers over you, hands pressed either side of your head. He presses sloppy kisses to your face, almost like he's forgotten how to. His lips drag over your skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in his wake. He pulls back to look at you. "Open your mouth" he says and you comply. "You swallowed it?" He growls and you nod, feeling suddenly embarrassed even though you shouldn't.

"Next time hold it, I want to see it..."

Your cheeks redden and you shiver again. Next time? You felt sure it was almost over. But the look on his face suggests not. He follows up by spitting in your mouth and squeezes your cheeks, making it drop over your lips and chin.

"It's like you were made for me kayza... So perfect.... So soft and sweet..."

🌑

He let you sleep for a while, and during that time he was summoned. They spoke in Russian and he took on the role of submissive. He nodded and was led out of the room with heavily armed guards.

Maybe while he was gone they would set you loose? You didn't know anything, you were innocent.

But you waited hours. At some point a meal was shoved through a flap in the door. You waited for a moment but your hunger took over and you scrambled to the door and ate whatever mush was on the plate.

You wrapped a blanket around you and sat cold and silent. You didn't know which was worse. Waiting for him or being with him. You tried to understand how you let yourself surrender to him so easily. You felt like you did nothing to stop it, but what could you do? No one was here to help you and at least he seemed to care about you... In his own way.

🌑

You heard thundering footsteps heading down the corridor outside your door. With a short pause it was suddenly open and he was back in the room. You sat there staring at him as he stood staring at you.

He shrugged off his clothes and walked towards you. "Show it to me." He said, gesturing to your lower half but you couldn't move. "Kayza, be good or I can be bad..." You exhaled and dropped your thighs open and he hissed as your swollen pussy leaked out his release. He dipped his hand down and rubbed making you whimper at the touch.

Once he was naked he laid back on the bed next to you. His hands drifted over your body where you sat until he was pulling you into place, sitting on his body. "I can't, it's too sensitive..." You pant as he lifts you up by the thighs and guides you to sit on his fat cock.

"No, no, you take it, you can..." You can't escape his grip as he drags you down with one hand and guides his cock into your heat. Your hands grip at his chest and you cry out as he stretches you. You gasp for air and he just holds you still, shushing you as you are overwhelmed.

"You're made for this. Look at you... Still taking me all the way..." He lets his soft hand drag over your body, squeezing here and there, pinching your nipples until they are swollen and sore from his actions. He rolls his hips experimentally and even he can't cope with the way your walls clamp down on him. "Fuck, that's right... It's just want you like huh?"

He stops again, letting you calm down before rolling again. He keeps this torturous pace, stopping and starting until tears track down your face and the only thing keeping you up is his hands around your throat.

"Did they touch you while I was gone zayka?" He whispers, hands squeezing slightly tighter, hips thrusting slow but deep. "N...no...no." He growls again as your eyes roll in your head. "Tell me why... Why did they leave you alone?"

"Because....ah..b...because I belong....to you."

He drags you forward and crashes his lips to yours in a primal kiss, you return it clumsily, moaning in his mouth. His hand reaches round and presses into your ass as he ruts. "That's right.....mine."

🌑

Time passes, probably days but they are a blur to you. He leaves and returns once more, the rest of the time he uses you, holds you and occasionally you sleep.

Until one day he goes, and he's gone for a long time. Your only sign of life is the weird meals that pass through the door every several hours.

Eventually someone opens the door. Not the soldier. A guard of some type. He throws a gown at you and leads you to a quiet room with a scary looking chair. Are they going to kill you now.

Despite the horror of the situation, you find yourself wishing for him. At least he was gentle, these guards did not look gentle.

Suddenly he is marched into the room and thrown into the chair. You watch horrified as he is strapped down, a glassy look in his eye. He looks at you briefly, a flare of possession and recognition shot towards you.

"We are going to wipe his memory, but we can't deny the effect you've had on him. Kept him much calmer than the others before you." A guard explains as doctors whizz around the room, pressing various buttons.

"If he remembers you, little kayza," he mocks, "then you can live. If not..." He cocks his gun near you and you shiver. An impossible fate lies ahead of you. Death or life, but what kind of life would it be?

You are forced to watch on as he screams during the process. Tears track down your face in fear, for both of you. Clearly he is as much a prisoner as you.

Finally the ordeal ends. They speak to him in hushed tones as various plates of metal are removed from his body. You are pushed forward into his eyeline.

Your heart is in your throat as he stares at you. Will he remember?

#dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #winter soldier au #dark winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut

[kaseikiwi]

my friend and i were talking abt middle school interests and they went “satosugu! winter soldier au… with gojo as steve and geto as bucky” and i went insane

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanart #jujutsu kaisen fanart #geto suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #geto fanart #jjk sketch #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fanart #gojo fanart #stucky #winter soldier au #satoru gojo #i’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

[unholyhelbig]

Around season 4: Skye/Daisy Johnson. Reader is a Winter Soldier like Bucky and has been part of the team since the beginning. Reader’s has always been there for the team especially Daisy, and has a huge crush on her, painfully watching on as she goes out with different people. Now the Reader needs help but doesn’t want it, what will Daisy and the team do?

Title: No Control (Daisy Johnson x Female!Reader)

Words: 2452

Trigger Warnings: Blood, mind control, manipulation, night terrors, talks of death, horrible grammar (Let me know if I should add more)

[A/n: Okay, I may have deviated from the prompt just a little bit, but in my defense, this is technically my first time writing Reader/Daisy Johnson so I had to feel it out a little!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The rope dug into your skin like a nasty row of teeth, biting at the skin, drawing a flourishing flash of bright blood. The image made you pull harder in a vicious tug of strength. Your jaw ached, tasted thick of metal. If you could just get out of this stupid chair, this horrible cell. It was much too small for your liking.

Quake, Daisy as you knew her, watched you with a lifted eyebrow. Her fingers were curled around the iPad that connected her to the controls of your containment. She grimaced, a wetness building in her stare.

When your struggle against the ropes had proved fruitless, you glanced up at her through wild, unkept hair, chest heaving. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I get out of this? Let me out of this!”

It felt like you were underwater, your chest heavy with discontent, even when you went slack in your binds. The first inkling that something was wrong had been swallowed down, the nightmares that ripped through your subconscious and pulled you from sleep.

For weeks, you’d wake up drenched in your own sweat as you tried to draw any type of air into your lungs. It often ended with you sitting, exhausted and scared, in the kitchen of the compound. First, you’d drink a cup of tea, then you’d pace and drink another, before finally succumbing to exhaustion on the common room sofa.

Agent May had found you the first night, just before dawn. She didn’t’ poke or prod, instead, she gently woke you and wordlessly gestured back towards your bunk. Other agents would be walking in and out, scourging for breakfast and their own fix of caffeine.

Those dreams- those nightmares- would soon leak into your everyday routine. As you sparred with Bobbie, you’d thrown a particularly deadly right hook. It was the color of her eyes, the seafoam dusty grey that you’d always found so endearing flashed and ripped into his gaze.

You’d drawn blood and stumbled back on the blue mat. Other recruits gaped at the two of you, floating by the edge of the training room. Bobbi pulled her fingers from the laceration on her cheek, already forming a bruise.

“I’m sorry,” came your whispered response. You grabbed your bag from the nearby bench, louder this time “really, I’m sorry.”

Bobbi called after you as you pushed open the doors of the training room and shoved through agents until you made it to the safety of your room. Except, it didn’t’ feel much like safety anymore. Your fingers were shaking, and your knuckles had a smear of dried brown blood, Bobbi’s blood, against them.

It had been years, nearly a decade, since you’d first been approached by Phil Coulson with his grandiose idea of forming a team to take down hero-level threats within SHIELD, because after all, everyone needs a backup plan. And while you’d been hesitant at first, that single decision in a Montanna bar changed the course of your life. Changed your isolation tactics, the person you had once been.

SHIELD was your family. They’d slowly ebbed away the distant memories of what had created you in the first place: the brainwashing, the torture, the misguided loyalty was all on the backburner. You’d forgotten just how cold it was.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

Without warning, the icy hand of your captor was closing around your throat once more, but this time, you were surrounded with people who you cared for. The thought of hurting them had you hunched over the bathroom in your room, retching whatever mint-tea concoction you’d swallowed down hours before.

At one point, you blacked out, and when you came to, when you finally pulled yourself from the scent of bile and blood and regret, you were here. They’d moved you to a containment unit and restrained you with ropes that did no favor to your already aching body.

Your fingers were still coated in blood, too much to be from your outburst in the gym. And while you still panicked, while you were still choked with fear, there was a calmness about the situation. If you were in here, you weren’t out there. With them.

“Whose blood is this?” you asked.

“Hard to say,” Daisy replied. “You did quite the number. It’s hard for agents to fight off a super soldier, you know?”

Your jaw began to ache as you pressed your teeth together, peering at her through strands of sweat-caked hair. The rope wouldn’t hold you for long, but the containment unit would. There was an electric buzz from the forcefield strong enough to hold back ten-thousand super soldiers.

Daisy had a tepid stare trained on you that made you squirm. You tested your strength against your binds, pressing and pressing until the frayed edges drew blood, dripped down the tips of your fingers until the floor was puddled with it.

A laugh bubbled up in your throat. You lolled your head, trying to loosen up your shoulders. Everything was weak and fuzzy and above all else, you felt the hiss of someone’s voice in the back of your mind. Eyes seeing through your eyes, hands gripping past your own.

There was a poison to Daisy’s voice “You just leveled a room full of twenty-five agents and you’re laughing?”

She’d clicked off the iPad, set it aside. Daisy stood and crossed her well-toned arms over her chest. God, even in your disillusioned state, you were acutely aware of your feelings for her. They’d been festering under the surface for a better part of the last three years.

“No, no… I just…”

With an extra tug, the mass of rope fell to the ground in a heap of ties and caked blood. You couldn’t distinguish your own from those of the agents that you be felled. Your fingers worked at the lacerations.

“You’ve got a very motherly tone right now. I mean, you’re scolding me, actually scolding me!”

“What do you expect me to do, y/n? What I witnessed in there was one of the scariest, most startling things I have ever seen and you expect me not to scold you? What the fuck is going on?”

Her voice cracked during the last sentence and your heart tugged at the sound. You’d heard it before as she sunk to the floor years ago when Lincon had perished, and when she’d succumbed to the fear of her own powers growing out of control.

The part of you that was still you didn’t want to cause that pain, and most certainly didn’t want the fear to take over. You stood, approaching the barrier. It was the only thing between you both, and it was highly charged.

You’d been tempted to touch it, to place your hand against the electricity save for the pain. Instead, you started pacing back and forth, the length of your makeshift cell. “This is where we held Agent Ward, isn’t it?”

She didn’t’ answer, instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat as you examined the metal frame bed and the cameras that were situated around each corner of the cell. Part of you swelled with pride, being confined in the same spot the biggest threat to the team had been in. You quickly drowned the thought, shaking your head.

 “Does it bother you? Watching two people you love fall down the same path?” The words had slipped past your lips before you could quell them. Instead, you tutted “You’re well on your way to a pattern, young lady. One more good-looking sociopath and you’ll collect all three.”

“Don’t,” Daisy snarled “You need to tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t you.”

You stopped pacing, lilting your head to the side as you stared at her. She was itching to leave, and you wanted her to. It would make all of this easier. Your entire body itched too, wanted to give in to the full control. It wasn’t something you were willing to do in front of Daisy.

“Do you know how much control I have to practice on a daily basis, Zee? Just a little more strength than usual and I rip a cabinet door off. I shatter a mug. I punch a co-worker in the face. It’s a constant push between what’s right to do and what I was designed to do.”

“So what? You decided you’re done watching your strength? That doesn’t warrant an attempt at massacre.”

“You don’t get it!” You punched the barrier, reveling in the feel of electricity that moved through your fingertips, your arm and elbow until it dissipated altogether. She flinched but didn’t step back. “When Hydra… why Hydra trained me it was all I knew. I would wake up, follow orders, and be put back to sleep before I could even register what I had done. Who I had killed, what I destroyed.”

This was something you had refused to talk about. Coulson knew the gist of your containment, of your de-programming because that was all listed in your SHIELD file. But the true horrors of your ordeal were a mystery to the entire team. It was behind you. He was behind you.

“A SHEILD team raided one of Hydras bases and I was there. I was willing to go without a fight and Hydra was willing to leave me there to absolve for their sins.” You chuckled at that, shaking your head “There was months of imprisonment, of interrogation and then deprogramming. And finally, finally after years of trying to prove myself to Director Fury, and Agent Hill, they cleared me for duty. Cleared me to join Coulson’s team.”

You let yourself plop down onto the metal chair, suddenly too exhausted to remember why you were fighting so hard in the first place. Daisy clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Two years of deprogramming doesn’t make up for a lifetime of torture, of molding me into the perfect killing machine.” You swallowed hard “I played my part, I ignored the feeling of being watched, the dark thoughts that tried to break through into my new, good, life. I fought every single day to make sure all of you were safe and unharmed and… suddenly, suddenly the people who were controlling me got stronger.”

Daisy shifted, uncrossing her arms “You’re saying you’re still under Hydra’s control?”

“I’m saying I wasn’t strong enough to fight off their hold on me. A few months ago I started blacking out and the nightmares, they got worse. But everyone was finally settled, finally happy. We were happy”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daisy’s voice waivered “Y/n, one of the perks of having a girlfriend is being able to talk to them, to tell them things. You should have come to me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could keep things under control.”

Daisy let out a long sigh and lowered herself back into her own chair. Her elbows resting on her knees. She bounced her leg, staring at you with those deep brown eyes that you could drown in. Somehow, her being there, was enough if only for a moment.

“I have to tell Coulson.”

“I know,” you said.

“He’ll know what to do. We’ll get through this, y/n.” Her words were whispered, eyes glassy with emotion. “I love you. We all do. This is just another challenge, okay? We’re here to help.”

“I admire your perseverance, Daisy, but the hold hydra has on me. It’s bigger than me, it’s bigger than us.”

She swallowed thickly “You don’t mean that.”

But you did, didn’t you? Your skin felt like it was on fire and you wanted nothing more than to peel it off strip by strip until there was a new layer glinting under the industrial lights. Anything to stop the uncomfortable feeling of not being in your own body. You’d gotten to complicit under the watchful eye of SHIELD. Hydra didn’t like that, and at this point, neither did you.

It had been so easy, so simple to rip through those agents as they aimed red dots at your center. You didn’t care if they fired their weapons, you hadn’t a care in the world and it was freeing.

It was hard to wager that with the sad look your girlfriend was giving you now. Her fingers were tapping against her knees, hardly a perfect interrogation technique. It was hard not to crave her touch, her mouth hot on yours. Even if you did give yourself up to Hydra entirely, there would always be Daisy.

You lilted your head, narrowing your eyes at her. She’d be just as easy to break; just a little bit of homegrown brainwashing and she’d be by your side again. Both of you dripping in blood. A power like hers, resting under her fingertips, would be invaluable.

Standing, you gently touched the barrier separating you both. There was a subtle electronic buzz that moved through your fingertips and up to your elbow. It was warming, a constant comfort, almost. “Darling, we could make all of this go away. Just the two of us.”

She lifted her hazel stare from the tablet in front of her, reading your vitals like an open book. They were steady, you were sure of it. There was curiosity in her stare.

“Do you remember the house in Vermont we talked about?” You dragged your fingers against the barrier, a blue trail following fast. “The two of us can forget all of this, forget SHIELD and Hydra. We can go there, start a family. Isn’t that what you want?”

You could read it in her expression, it was exactly what she wanted. But Daisy Johnson was no fool. Despite your terse begging and manipulative tactics, she remained calm. One knee was balanced on the edge of the chair, the other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Rae’s Restaurant… the floorplan that we drew out on the back of a placemat. Two stories, a nursery, and office. A massive backyard. I remember it well.” Daisy stood again, facing off against you with nothing but an electrical panel holding you back. “This isn’t the you I imagined it with. Where is the kindness? The selfless woman that I fell in love with?”

You gritted your teeth. “Gone. Nothing but a fabrication, baby. I’m just offering you one last chance to join me. I have no reservations about destroying you right along with this entire organization.”

Daisy swallowed hard, trying to quell the lump in her throat. She refused to let herself cry. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I do love a challenge.”   

#Daisy Johnson #Daisy Johnson x reader #Daisy Johnson x y/n #Daisy Johnson x you #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #Marvel #Request #Winter Soldier au #agents of shield fanfic #reader insert

[inactiveuser374]

MIA (chapter three)

pairing; Simon “Ghost” Riley / Male!Winter Soldier!Reader

contains: graphic depictions of injury, flashbacks, fears of abandonment, mentions of abduction, human experimentation & torture, memory loss and regaining, brainwashing and conditioning, male anatomy for reader, slight sexual themes, lovers to strangers to enemies to lovers?? idk

link to chapter one

The world seemed like a loud blur, every sound felt as if it was making your brain bleed. The voice attached behind your ear rose up as the lead singer in an horrid band you couldn’t block out no matter how hard you tried.

The unheard words only indulging the jarring chorus of life while you froze, your hand still caressing the hilt of your knife.

“What did they do to you?“ Another voice emerged and it was only then that you were reminded of the other in front of you. Your mission that had somehow jolted you from a half awake mindless sleep.

“We have a sniper on top of the building soldier, step away so he can take the shot.”  

Through the chaos and noise, you could still make out the meaning of the words. A few months ago, you would’ve stepped away in an instant, obeying orders like a dog. 

But your body shielded Ghost just enough to create a shadow with your importance, you knew that nothing would happen as long as you were in range. 

You needed this man alive, even if it was your mission to end him. You couldn’t complete it just to forget his face like all the others. You weren’t going to lose the possibility of having a new life, one free of killing and pain every day of your life, repeating an endless cycle with every mission you returned from.

He knew you, knew your name and probably more about your life than you ever thought to consider. Without him you were like a half erased slate. Not fully blank, but just enough missing so that whatever used to be on it was no longer understandable. 

You needed him to remind you of who you were, you could tell in the way he looked at you, that your relationship had at least been close enough not to have him lie about it. 

If you turned to take out the sniper, you’d risk Ghost running or worse, attacking you while you were vulnerable. And the last time you’d gone up against him, he’d somehow been almost as skilled as you. 

Your face stilled into a look that Ghost seemed to find threatening as you looked up at him through your eyebrows. His breathing and the twitch of his wrist as he readied for another attack showed you his thoughts. 

What it didn’t show you was the handgun hidden under his belt as his finger curled around the trigger, already stopped by your grip before you even realized it. 

You had it under the much stronger metal of your hand, easily pulling it from his grasp as his lips curled up to almost reveal his teeth in an expression that was far closer to irritation rather than full on anger.

As the gun was flung far enough away to where neither of you could get to it fast enough, you straightened yourself up again, merely annoyed at his attempt.

Ghost looked as if he was stifling a sigh of frustration before he spoke.

”Wasn’t aiming for you.” He said, his tone confirming the irritation you had suspected. 

“Don’t move.”

His sudden lack of movement caused a hint of satisfaction to creep into your head as you removed your earpiece, effectively crushing it under your heel before turning swiftly. 

He soon realized that you had already known about the sniper, probably even before him, leading him to wonder if they were merely backup for you. 

Your knife was pulled from its hilt in a smooth manner as you took it into your stronger arm and hurled it like a spear towards the top of the building. You had hit the man’s arm, more than likely stopping him from taking a shot while you continued your conversation free from anyone else. 

“Who’s on the earpiece?” Ghost questioned, voice lowered to an almost menacing manner. 

“How do I know you?” You lashed back.

“Are you joking?” He could’ve said it angrily, but instead his eyes softened along with his voice. 

“We worked together for four years, [name].” 

“Don’t call me that.” You somehow stopped yourself from seething the words, digging your nails into your palm.

“We were on a hostage rescue, you got shot in the arm.” He continued speaking, eyes drifting down to the slim line of metal that showed out from under your sleeve before it was consumed again by your glove. 

“Our soldiers were down and I had to leave the building but when I came back, you weren’t there.” 

Outlines of the images he described fluttered in your mind's eye as he spoke. A window, broken by gunshots, paired with the stain of blood drowning you in red as you looked down at your own crumpled body, weak and useless as all you could do was try not to fade away. 

“We searched for you for six months, but every time we thought we were close, any proof we had just disappeared. After seven you were announced missing in action.” 

The man had genuine pain in his voice. The type that felt like it was boring a hole into your chest as you listened. You were frozen in place, shallow breaths being the only motion that barely even moved your chest. The air around you lay stagnant without so much as a heartbeat to send it moving. 

“I wish I’d stayed with you in that room every day since.” 

Though no more memories showed their face, you could tell he was speaking the truth. He had no intention of lying to you even if it meant his own death. 

His mouth opened once more to speak but as he did you heard the reverberating sound of something happening to your hand and then a loud crack as you felt a buzz starting from your left arm and manifesting into a wave as it passed through your entire body. 

In an instant of confusion you thought your arm might’ve malfunctioned, maybe you’d pushed it too hard and the mechanics snapped against each other. But Ghost’s reaction was what made your stomach drop.

Even in the dark, even against his black hoodie, the wetness pooled up right above his hip. Just as you looked back at him, his body curled in on itself and he looked as if he were about to keel over.

Instinct took you by surprise as you dove for the gun you had discarded minutes ago, cocking it and shooting five muffled rounds at the shadow on the building, thanking something greater that the man had poor aim from his injury. 

“Ghost?”

He seemed shocked, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the bullets shot towards the sniper or the steel caught his abdomen. 

You had little experience with treating wounds, but luckily you remembered the basics for gunshots due to the amount of times you had had to patch yourself up on missions without help. 

He hadn’t fallen over yet, but his legs were definitely about to give out as you grabbed him, pocketing the gun and pulling him down the alley until you felt far enough away that anyone looking for you wouldn’t search. The bullet had rendered your left arm nearly useless as the metal pulled on your shoulder rather than enhancing your strength, forcing you to pull him with only your right. 

Upon inspection the injury looked tame compared to what you had seen on yourself in the past.

The bullet had barely even passed his skin after going through your hand, but it was fragmented, one piece was sticking to the skin where the open flesh met skin. 

“So you do know who I am?” He said with an oddly normal toned voice, as if the hands pulling pieces of metal out of him had no effect. 

“I only know what I’ve been told, by the people I work for, and that includes your name.”

His breathing seemed to change in the slightest midway through your sentence, but you paid no mind as you worked on slowing the bleeding. The desperation to keep him alive grew with every pulse of his heart. 

“Someone tells you to do this?” He questioned, his eyebrows creasing downwards as he looked at what you were doing with your hands. 

“When they need me.” You answered vaguely. “Stop talking.” 

Ghost sat in silence as you finished dressing the wound with what little resources you had. You were no doctor but wrapping an open gunshot wound with a hoodie maybe wasn’t the best thing. You cursed under your breath, standing up to survey either side of the alley, relieved at the lack of people outside.

“My flat’s right down the street.” Ghost let his words out trapped inside a ragged breath. “First floor, shouldn’t be much of a hassle.” He tried to push himself up but you immediately dropped down, keeping him where he was. 

“Yeah? Gonna tell me your credit card number too?” Part of you was amused by how much he trusted you, given the circumstances of who you were and how he was practically at your mercy at the moment.

“You aren’t going to kill me,” he sucked in a pained breath as you helped hoist him up over your shoulder.

“You want to remember. More than just your name.” He took the words right from your head, but for some reason you didn’t want him to know that. 

“I don’t need a biography.” You seethed, suddenly aware of how heavy he was without the help of your now broken enhancement.

Ghost wasn’t lying, it was only a two block walk until you arrived at the entrance of a brick building, four stories high. 

The place was dark, the only light coming in was through the half drawn blinds. But once you switched a light on, the apartment showed itself.

It was practically empty, only the necessary furniture and items lay perfectly in their place. A plain mattress sat in the corner, the sheets and blanket laid perfectly even tucked in underneath it. 

“You don’t remember this place?” Ghost sounded a bit better now, but you doubted that the walk here had done him any good. 

“Can’t say I do.” You muttered, irritated at the almost teasing tone he had spoken with.

You found the first aid kit was in the bathroom, along with a suture kit that seemed to be filled with items pulled directly from a hospital shelf. 

Ghost sat in an old wooden barstool while you sewed up the large hole in his side with so much as a subtle wince each time you pulled the needle through. 

The skin around the injury seemed to be a map of a battlefield itself, bullets and slices nearly painting a picture on his chest. 

Silence had subconsciously begun to grow like a weed between the two of you, only ending when he allowed a single question to pass through his lips. 

“What did they do to you?” His voice was flat and almost emotionless as you cut off the rest of the tape around the gauze. 

You took your time answering, allowing him to get his shirt back on while you tried to think. Nights filled with screams allowed you at least some form of an idea that the people who you now used to work for had indeed done something to you, maybe even multiple times. But the memories were distant and clouded, you couldn’t rely on them without proof. 

“I don’t know.” 

Ghost’s eyes met your left limb, which had been dangling at your side the entire time, a simple chunk of metal attached to your body was all it was now. The glove had been blown clean off through the shot, which gave him a clear view of the shiny hand. 

“I should go.” You stood up, pulling your hood back on before twisting the handle on the sink. The blast was a lot harsher than you had anticipated. 

Ghost got up as well, walking towards the door presumably to let you leave. 

The water began to heat, washing red stains from your flesh even faster before you shut it off, allowing silence to fill the entire apartment.  

Ghost opened the door for you while you were turned, the knob turning with a slow cream just loud enough for you to hear as you dried off your hand admiring the wall for about five more seconds until you felt clean enough. 

As you started to turn, the back of your head met a hard spot as an unfamiliar voice met your ears. The sentence was too short to pinpoint, but it definitely wasn’t Ghost, instead a heavy Scottish accent met your ears as the pressure on the back of your head grew. 

It was only then that you realized what the object held against your skull was, and that Ghost had been walking towards the bathroom with the first aid kid in hand, not the front door. 

“Don’t move.” 

I posted this without proofreading the second half because I’m too tired, so I apologize for any typos or repeated paragraphs that I missed

taglist:

@chrrywiwss @gaymistakeboi @edenstarkk @justicex101 @mrglubb @grizzersmamma @xx4rcticxx @cptg00s3 @justagenderfluidstuff @therealppboy @justglitch-nox @redjeanjacket @achob @ssukuu @akir4a @ch3rrys0da-tv @cookie-monster69 @i0veless

taglist requests

#simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #winter soldier au #male reader

[kitsune024]

Stucky Fic Recs Part 2 - will add later

Bucky and Steve's Excellent Adventure by blue_beans I Chapters: 48/48 I Completed Post-Avengers: Endgame Bucky Barnes is very suicidal for a good chunk of this, Sentient Infinity Stones, Fix-It fic, Action/Adventure, Time Travel, slow burn

Six months ago, Steve set out on a final mission to return the infinity stones to their proper timelines, and returned a minute later having lived out a life of peace and contentment with Peggy Carter in the past. He died in his sleep a few days later, surrounded by his friends. Or so Bucky assumes. He wouldn't know, he'd been busy being locked up on the Raft while the government decided whether or not to pardon him for the whole Winter Soldier thing. What with the court-mandated therapy and the constant surveillance by alphabet agencies and the crushing weight of his past, he's not sure if giving him a chance at "normal life" is more cruel than the alternative. But he's doing fine. Great, actually, so don't ask. He didn't have a nightmare. Especially not that strangely disturbing one about Steve... *** AKA I wanted to write the reverse time-heist and I'm still salty about Endgame. This is the result.

Seasons of War by eretria I Chapters 11/11 I Completed Friends to Lovers, World War II, war horrors, Dark

Chasing Bucky, always a step behind, Steve remembers the cycle of seasons that took him from the raw and naive young man to the Captain America who led the Howling Commandos into hell and, except for Bucky, out again. As his memories center on Bucky, one question haunts him: Is the Bucky he knew in the war the same one he knew before?

ampersand by kaydeefalls I Chapters 1/1 I one shot World War II, Friends to Lovers, the Winter Soldier started long before Bucky fell from the train

They've been steveandbucky since they were kids, but that ignores the parts of their lives that don't wrap around each other, that never did. (Bucky needs to figure out who he is, just him, with or without Steve.)

In Vain by kireteiru I Chapters 1/1 I one shot James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers(unrequited), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Endgame, All hurt no comfort, not a fix it :(

"Nothing of the heart remains, Even if we could've stayed, We've been here long enough, Long enough to know it's all in vain. Everything we tried to say, Up until the final day, I guess we said enough, Said enough to know it's all in vain." _ "In Vain", Within Temptation (Resist) A choice was made, and now the world will bear its consequences.

i'm the furthest thing from heaven, but the closest to home by @buckyismybicycle I Chapters: 6/6 I Completed Guardian Angel Bucky, Identity Reveal, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss

When Steve loses Bucky in Kreischberg, he’s lost the only thing left he cares about. He crashes the Valkyrie into the Arctic, ready to be reunited with his love, but instead, he’s saved by an angel. Except this angel isn’t like the ones he’s read about — no, his angel is armed to the teeth and has wings the colour of blood and night. Yet, there’s something eerily familiar about this angel.

Good God, Let Me Give You My Life by @bellefyre I Chapters 6/6 I Completed Bucky/others, One-Sided Relationship, Non-Consensual Touching, rape, Hydra, Steve/Bucky is Endgame

5+1 meme, five people over the decades who fell in love with the Winter Soldier and died because of him and the one person the Winter Soldier loved and lived because of him.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by @writeonclara I Chapters 6 /6 I Completed funny fic, gift giving, Steve falls for the Winter Soldier before finding out his Identity, Courting, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, bad ideas

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

Ready to Comply by @exclamation I Chapters 31/31 I Completed Canon Divergence - Post-CA: The Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, Hurt/Comfort-But Mostly Hurt, Angst, Protective Steve Rogers

The asset's orders at the end of The Winter Soldier weren't to kill Captain America, but to capture him, so that he could be wiped and turned into another asset. The asset has succeeded in that mission, capturing its target and taking him back to the Hydra base. But the Hydra soldiers are dead, captured, or fled, so there is no one there to give the asset new orders. Alone with its captive, the asset has no instructions on how it is meant to act. But the more time it spends with its target, the more old protocols start to assert themselves, like the protocol that when that face is hurt and bleeding, the asset is supposed to clean away the blood.

From Grit to Pearl by @bluesimplicity73 I Chapters 38/38 I Completed Bucky & Rebecca Barnes, Bucky Recovering, Body Horror, BAMF Bucky, BAMF Rebecca Barnes, Angst, AU - Canon Divergence, Hydra

He does not have a name. He has been called many things over the years; a weapon, a ghost, HYDRA’s Fist, the Soldier, and from what they have told him his work has shaped the century. But he does not have a name. His name, like so many other things, has been taken from him, stolen. Forgotten. Until the day it is not, and remembering, he breaks free, killing his handler and making his escape in a desperate bid for freedom. Frightened, lost and hurt, he seeks out the last person in the world he can trust, his baby sister, now an almost eighty-year-old widow, somehow knowing she is the only one who can help him. It is a difficult journey, one filled with pain, tears, and things that should not be possible. But also with recovery and redemption, rebirth and miracles, family and hope. This story is a love letter between Bucky and his sister Rebecca, the world, and eventually his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, the boy he once loved. But ultimately, it is the love letter Bucky writes to himself, as he reclaims who he once was, discovers who he is now, builds a new life for himself and realizes he might, just might, be as strong, as beautiful, as precious as a pearl.

Bookmark Series

Til the Sun Goes Down by @scyllaya I Part 1 - 2 I Bucky & Loki, Thor & Loki, Kid Loki

Stucky with Fanart

to memory now I can't recall by @etharei | Chapters: 16/16 I Completed Time Travel, World War II, Memory Loss, Identity Porn, Alien Technology The Good Monster by Taste_is_Sweet | Chapters: 2/2 | Completed Canon Divergence, Transformation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Harm despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by @praximeter | Chapters: 20/20 | Completed Non-Consensual Body Modification, Canon Divergence, Identity Reveal, Drug Withdrawal, Body Horror, identity Porn, American Sign Language The Second Labor by @aidaronan I Chapters: 18/18 I Completed wartime imagery and violence, pre-serum steve, Alternative Timeline, Psychological Torture, Medical Torture, AU - Canon Divergence

Bookmark Series

Ipseity by @skyisgray I Part 1-3 I Completed Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Torture

#stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #bucky x steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ao3 fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #stucky #winter soldier au #stucky fanart #fic recs #I ain't gonna put in all the tags in each fic so yall better read the tags some of them are dark #stevebucky #my rec list #stucky fics

[sheena-yuet]

Winter Soldier au

- Zero poof reading hell yas -

Recently I just re-watched the winter soldier movie. I really like Bucky so damn much so I just popped out an idea. What if the winter soldier has the ability to size-shift too uwu.

And in this au, I wanted Dweam to be the winter soldier. George and Sapnap are a super soldier. But I don’t want both of them have the same ability as Captian America has. So I decided to give them some super powa— haha

So here is my DWEAM, three of them joined the military. And Dream was separated during a fight on the train ( which is where the scene Bucky fell off the train). After that the Hydra captured and tortured him. They also brainwashed and turned him to a winter soldier.

Anddd about gogy and sapnap, both of them became a super soldier after Dream was captured. They received some super power like control the gravity ? ( Basically gogy can lifts up everything) and sapnap is a fire boy. Also, George doesn’t not have blue eyes if he doesn’t use his powa.

These drawings took me days to complete it hahaha (pAiN) BUT ! There’s few more scenes I really want to redraw! Let’s see how determined I am to draw them all xD

I wasn’t planned to draw the character setting thingy. But I just can’t help myself hahah!

#giant/tiny #giant!dream #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #g/t #giant and tiny #giant tiny #tiny!george #dsmp g/t #g/t art #tiny!sapnap #winter soldier au #dreamsmp g/t #g!dream

[squad-724]

Fighting the demons myself and coming up with Winter Soldier Wrecker au

Wrecker sacrifices himself so the rest of the Batch can escape around a year before the Skako Minor mission.

The Batch rescues Echo, and from the moment the ARC enters the Marauder he feels like someone's missing. A dusty crate under one of the bunks, plushie in the gunner seat that's he's not allowed to touch etc. He knows a brother is missing and doesn't have the heart yet to ask.

Fast forward a month or so and a massive guy in full body armor attacks the Bad Batch on a mission with weapons specifically designed to capture Echo. They realise it's a bounty hunter and a strong one at that. He doesn't care for the chest or leg shots and the helmet protects him from Crosshair's sniper shots. They note at some point that the bounty hunter is blind and deaf on one side. They escape, even if barely.

Next time the guy approaches they're more ready, and in the end are able to get top part of his helmet off. Crosshair freezes before he can take the shot, because that's Wrecker. Then try to talk to him but he doesn't talk, and they have to retreat again.

The third time they're successful in poisoning him with sleeping gas and take him to the Marauder.

Wrecker's injuries seem like they weren't taken care of properly, and each time he wakes up he's extremely violent. They have to drug and restrain him until they get him to Shaak Ti on Kamino so she can try to enter his mind and see if their Wrecker is there somewhere.

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch wrecker #winter soldier au #the bad batch au

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ~ 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛! (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

~ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

~ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know either in a comment, message, or my ask! mention the title or just a character name if you’d like to be tagged in everything written for them!

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #prince bucky #winter soldier #winter soldier au #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x fem!reader #marvel #mcu #marvel au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series

[artkiving]

I had a vision...Erwin Smith with a metal arm

#winter soldier au #erwin smith #aot erwin #aot #snk

[dragonpyre]

Batman Winter Solider au

Part 2 Part 3

#batman #batfamily #batfam #dc #dc comics #dccomics #marvel #mcu #winter soldier #winter soldier au #jason todd #dick grayson #richard grayson #red hood #nightwing #fanart #fan art #my art

[tuiccim]

Though I Have Never Read It

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2756

Warnings: Angst, smut, Only one bed

Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. You offer shelter to the handsome stranger.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

Though I Have Never Read It Masterlist

You stoked the fire in your tiny cabin, well off the beaten path, in a sparsely populated corner of Estonia, you lived off the grid. Your home consisted of a fireplace, a tiny bathroom that used rainwater, a small bed, comfy chair, a table for two (though it was rarely used), and a shelf of canned and jarred food. You had chosen a solitary life after yours had turned to absolute shit. Escape had seemed to be your only option, and here you kept to yourself. 

Glancing at the wood piled in one corner, you knew with this weather coming in, it would be best to bring in more logs to keep dry. Bundling up, you head out with a lantern and gather as many as you can carry. Back and forth you went in the frigid snow that had begun to fall. Kicking the door closed after your last load, you promised yourself a special treat from your stash.

You peel the layers off and head to lock the door before treating yourself. Just before you reach it, the door is kicked open and in stalks a tall man all in black. You back away quickly as he closes the door and locks it before recognizing your presence. 

“Where am I?” He demands in Russian, removing his eye protection revealing incredibly blue eyes. 

“Eesti,” you say in Estonian.

He nods and moves to crouch in front of the fire. You watch him warily. Where the hell did he come from? Why is he here? Who sent him? Had they found you? You couldn’t stand the silence and ask, still in Estonian, “What do you want?”

He turns his head to you slowly, studies you carefully, and surprisingly speaks in English, “Shelter.”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart and attempt to come up with a plan. “Are you going to hurt me?”

He removes the mask from the lower half of his face, revealing a razor sharp jawline, but stays silent.

“Did you come here on purpose?”

“No.”

“Are you here for me?”

“No.”

“Do you want something from me?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

He looks at the floor and sighs heavily, “Shelter.”

“Shelter. That’s it?” 

“Yes.”

“Are you lost?”

“Yes.”

“Is someone after you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hiding?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a blizzard coming in.”

“Yes.”

“You could be stuck here for days.”

He looks at you, surprisingly he seems unperturbed, just resigned. You take another breath and decide that compliance is probably your best bet here. You try a different tactic, “What’s your name?” 

When he doesn’t speak, you give him yours and explain, “I’ve lived here for a few months.” When he still doesn’t engage, you continue, “I was going to make myself some dinner. I should have enough for you, too. I just need to get this pot.” 

With slow movements, you pick up the pot from the hearth and put it on the hook, pushing it close to the fire. You continued slowly while he watched your every move. Grabbing a jar of soup from the shelf, you struggle to open it and when you still hadn’t managed it by the time you made it back to him, he held out his hand. You look at him in surprise. His eyes seem to soften, as if trying to convey his harmless intentions. You hold the jar out to him gingerly and he pops it open with little effort. Your fingers brush his gloved ones as he hands it back, making you shiver at the damp material.  You pour the soup into the pot and push it over the fire to warm. Turning back, you study the man’s clothing and realize they’re wet from the snow. Grabbing towels and an extra blanket, you bring them to him. 

“You need to get out of the wet clothes,” you say gently. 

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. He hadn’t moved from the spot by the fire and was beginning to shiver despite being so close to the source of heat. 

You decide not to push. You knew you should still be frightened at what he might do but he seemed less like a scary intruder and more like a lost little boy. You set out two bowls, spoons, and cups. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt, you pull a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and pour him a stiff drink. When the soup was ready, you served and gently said, “Come to the table. You need to eat.”

He moved, watching you with each step. You sat across from him and motioned to the whiskey, “This’ll help warm you up.”

You ate, staring at your bowl with an occasional glance up at him. Working up your bravery, you try to get him to talk again. “If we’re going to be stuck in here together, it’d be nice to have something to call you.”

He glances away as if searching for something before saying quietly, “Soldat.”

“You’re a soldier? Well, even soldier’s have names,” you try again. 

You jump when he thumps his fist on the table, “I don’t.”

“Okay, okay. Soldat.” You hold up a hand placatingly, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from pushing one more time. “You don’t remember ever being called something else?”

He looked out into the darkness that had fallen outside, seeming to search for something, anything to grab on to. He shook his head as if warding off bad thoughts but then he whispers,”Ja- James?”

“James,” you smile. “Okay, James. Is the soup okay?”

He nods but the expression on his face betrays confusion. You finished the rest of the meal quietly, not wanting to overwhelm him. As you cleared dishes away, he sat still shivering. You told yourself to leave it alone but you also sucked at listening to yourself. You dragged your small bed closer to the fire and pulled back the covers. 

“James,” you say gently. Your heart beats faster as his intense blue gaze meets yours. “You have to get out of those wet clothes. You’re never going to get warm if you don’t. Here, take this towel, dry off your skin, and get in the bed. I’ll wait in the bathroom. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“I-” he halts whatever was about to exit his mouth and instead gives a curt nod. 

You use the bathroom, brush your teeth, and wait. When you hear a halting “okay” from the other room, you emerge. Picking the clothes up from where he had laid them over a chair, you spread them over the rods next to the fireplace to dry more efficiently. Without a second thought, you walked over to him and added another layer of blankets. He watched you, eyes following each movement. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask. 

“No.”

“Okay,” you settled into your armchair, the only real luxury you gave yourself, and picked up your book. As you turned to your bookmarked page, he spoke. 

“Aloud?”

“You want me to read out loud? Uh, sure,” you looked down at the well-worn copy, and turning back to the first page began reading, “This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.” You smiled as you glanced up to see his confused expression. “That’s the first line of the book. The Princess Bride by William Goldman.” You continue to read through Buttercup and Westley’s romance while occasionally looking to see James’ reaction. Most of the time there was none but occasionally a corner of his mouth would tip up or down as you went on. When he seemed to be drifting off and your eyes had begun to droop, you put the book to the side, threw another log on the fire, and turned out the oil lamp. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you settle in to sleep in your chair. 

“No.”

Your head snaps up at the word and you turn to see James trying to get out of the bed. It was obvious he was in some pain and as he sat up you could see the bruises criss crossing his torso, then the mass of scars on his left shoulder that led to a metal arm. Your mouth fell open for a second before you realized what he was trying to say. You jump up to stop him.

“Hey. It’s fine. You need the bed more than I do.”

“No,” he insists. 

“James! Stop,” you put your hand on his right shoulder to keep him in place but pull back when he gasps. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he looks up with such pleading in his eyes it nearly breaks your heart. “Please.”

Gingerly, you reach out to him again and it’s as if his whole body relaxes at your touch. You sit on the side of the bed and stroke the long locks away from his forehead, allowing you a full view of his face. He was incredibly handsome. His eyes slipped closed as you continued to gently run your hands through his hair. When his breathing became even and you thought he had fallen asleep, you pulled your hands away. 

He started awake and stared up at you with wide eyes, “Stay.”

After a momentary hesitation, you slide into the bed and pull the covers over both of you. Much later, after he had been out for a while, you fell asleep with a hand still tangled in his hair. 

–

The warmth of the sun shining down on you was glorious. You looked over at James chopping wood shirtless and smiled at him. When he grinned back your thighs clenched. He was outright the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. He chopped one last log and then laid the ax down. He made his way to you and, rather than shy away, you grinned as he wrapped his arms around you. Your breathing picked up feeling him pressed against you, his cock already hard and rubbing against your middle. James moans causing you to…

…wake up. You realize that your dream was mirroring what was happening in your bed. James' arms were wrapped tightly around you and his hips flexed in rhythm. His moans were making your panties flood as you debate what to do. He shifts and his hard cock rubs directly against your mound eliciting a gasp from you. He stops, his eyes flying open and staring into yours. It was the fear in them that broke you. He looked terrified. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t know where he was or at what he had been doing but the only thought in your head was to soothe him. Tightening your arms around him, you arch to bring your bodies together and run a hand through his hair. 

His tension melted away. Staring into each other, time seemed to slow down. Your breathing matched and your body seemed to tingle where it touched him. And then, he moved so quickly it made your eyes fly wide open as his mouth took yours. You were keenly aware of his nakedness in contrast to your clothed body when he rolled on top of you and his hips flexed. After a moment, his lips trailed down your neck and a desperate whisper slipped past his lips, a single word, “Please.”

You knew exactly what he’s asking and it scared you and thrilled you at the same time. The thoughts that went through your head were telling you how stupid this whole thing was and, alternatively, to throw caution to the wind for once in your life. He put a hand under your shirt, just enough to feel your bare skin and whispered please again. That solitary word made any resistance, any reason, any thought of stopping him disappear. Instead, you reach for your waistband and push it down as far as you can. His hands take over and get them below your knees. 

You expect him to go fast, to take you in the same rushed way he had kissed you, but he doesn’t. He’s gentle and slow. He slides a hand between your legs and lets out a moan as his fingers explore. You hold on to him tighter and open your legs. When he guides the head of his cock to your entrance, he kisses you again while he slowly presses in. He swallows the whimpers you release as he buries himself inside of you. When he’s fully seated, he pulls back to look you in the eyes as he begins to softly thrust. You let out little gasps and moans as the pleasure builds. 

“So good,” James’ voice is strained as he grinds right against your clit, determined to make you come before he loses himself. Every thrust is taking you closer and when you can feel the spasms beginning, you pull his face back to your neck. He wastes no time, sucking that soft spot just below your ear. You let out a moan that’s foreign to your ears as your orgasm rips through you. You clench down and James’ strokes come a little faster until he grunts at his own release. You lay together until your breathing becomes normal again. 

James rolls to one side to study you before he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile at him before awkwardly reaching down to pull your bottoms back up. When you succeed, you slip out of the bed to hand him his clothes. “I’ll, um, I’ll let you get dressed.”

He nods and watches as you scurry to the tiny bathroom. You stare at yourself in the mirror, surprised that you still look exactly the same except the small mark on your neck. You use the bathroom and wash up. Determined to act normally, you decide to make breakfast and walk back into the main cabin. Glancing out the window, you see the snow that had fallen wasn’t as deep as you had worried. Looking over, James is dressed but he stands over the bed, staring at it. He glances up at you and then back at the bed. You see the small bloodstain on the sheets and hurry to snatch the covers over it. With knots in your stomach, you go to stoke the fire. 

James watches you, “You-” He cuts himself off and when you finally look at him, his eyes are trained on the window. 

“What is it?” you ask, watching his face fill with fear. When you finally hear the sounds of vehicles approaching, “James?”

He stares at you before jumping into action, “Get in the bathroom. No matter what happens, do not come out.”

He hadn’t spoken that many words since he showed up the night before and it scared him, “James, what’s happening?”

“They’re coming for me. Go!” He ushers you into the room but before closing the door, he looks at you with sadness and whispers, “Thank you. Stay here. Stay, no matter what.”

It was the tensest ten minutes of your life. You heard the cabin door open and slam shut, some muffled shouting from outside, and then silence. You were just about to peek out when you heard the door again. The sound of furniture being thrown and glass shattering has your heart racing, then the quiet invaded again. A fire crackling was all you could hear and as smoke began to seep under the door, your worst nightmare was confirmed. You try the door and it’s obvious that it had been blocked off. You panic for just a moment before wetting a cloth and covering your face as a makeshift filter. Looking around, you realize the only way out is the door. Using a piece of loose wood from the wall, you manage to get it through the sliver you open in the door. Using it as a wedge, you manage to get the door open wide enough to slip through. Your oil lanterns are shattered and the fire was nearly across the entire room. You grab a blanket near you and manage to climb out of the kitchen window. Looking around, it seems that James is gone along with whoever came after him. You run to your old but serviceable truck. 

Turning back for one last glance, your cabin is already engulfed in flames. Your escape was gone. It must be true, you can't run from your problems. Time to return to New York and see if you can pick up the pieces. 

Part Two

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#Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #captain america #captain america winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier au #winter soldier x you #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fic #Winter Soldier fic #Winter Soldier fanfic #Winter Soldier fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

I Knew Him - chapter 3

Ghost x Soap Winter Soldier AU

Summary: Soap was never the same after he lost Ghost all those years ago. He still has nightmares about it. But when he learns Makarov is back after taking Ghost from him, he'll do anything to exact his revenge. Until he discovers Ghost was never really gone.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3 link

With a pounding heart, Soap burst through the door to the tenth floor without even checking his six. He was far too desperate to finish this to even give second thought to his own safety.

The area was eerily clear of enemies. It was little more than a roughed-out construction site with bare concrete floors, exposed wiring hanging from the high ceilings, and scaffolding and building supplies stacked all around him. He knew Ghost was here somewhere and the stark realization tightened a tangle of emotion deep in his gut, making him queasy. He understood that he was on a knife's edge in this moment—wanting to see Ghost again and knowing if he did it surely meant a fight to the death if he couldn’t get through to him. Ghost, please, remember me.

A quick glance around the long, massive room revealed the bomb in the center. This whole level of the art museum was the skybridge floor that Laswell’s intel had indicated and it stretched 25 meters above the wide swath of Rock Creek below. The menacingly sophisticated block of wires and blinking lights of the weapon was nestled against a metal railing that overlooked a glass floor five meters below, giving a vertigo-inducing look at the river. Soap's hand instinctively went to the card in a pocket on his tac vest near his heart. A nervous rush of adrenaline pounded through him. He was so fucking close to finishing this…as long as Ghost didn’t try to stop him.  

You know what you have to do. Gaz's words echoed in his brain, sobering him like a slap to the face as he advanced toward the bomb. He knew in his heart of hearts he would take Ghost out—to save the people of this city, he would. But the man he knew, the man he loved, was not much more than a machine now, and Soap didn't know if he was physically strong enough to bring him down if it came to that; their fight on the bridge more or less proved it. And so he hoped with everything inside him that he could instead get through to Ghost, that he could somehow make him remember who he was and what they had shared. Because if he failed, there was no doubt in his mind this would end in bloodshed. 

Steeling himself, Soap rolled his shoulders back and brought up his AK. Then he carefully began making his way to the center of the room. He was nearly to the bomb when Ghost finally made his appearance. 

Soap’s heart jumped up into his throat when he saw him step out from behind a tall stack of concrete blocks fifteen feet before him. Ghost came to a stop directly in his line of sight, placing himself right between Soap and Makarov’s weapon. 

Ghost was dressed in the same black gear that he had been wearing on the bridge, but without the hood and mask obscuring his face. His dark blond hair was long, hanging almost all the way to his shoulders, and he had a few more scars marring his skin than the last time Soap had seen him… before the fall. But it was still Ghost, still Simon. Soap knew he was in there, somewhere. 

“People will die, Ghost,” he said, lowering his gun marginally. “I cannae let that happen.”

Ghost stared at him, his pistol held tensely at his side. There was no hint of recollection in his eyes. Only thinly veiled murderous intent. Soap swallowed down the painful lump in his throat, trying not to remember how those dark eyes had looked at him with such love just five years before. 

Soap pulled in a shaky breath, praying Ghost would surrender before this went any further. “Please, don’t make me do this.” 

Ghost narrowed his eyes and pressed his mouth into a tight, determined line. And Soap knew, heartbreakingly, that the time for talking was over. 

Without a second thought, Soap lunged forward and popped off a couple rounds, which Ghost easily blocked with his metal arm, then picked up a round garbage can lid as he closed the distance between them. He was determined to use anything in his path to fight his way to the bomb. It was the only hope he had. 

Snarling, Ghost raised his gun as Soap closed the distance between them. And just as he was about to pull the trigger, Soap banked to the left and chucked the garbage can lid right at Ghost’s chest, effectively catching him off guard. Ghost’s shot was thrown off target, but still managed to graze Soap’s hip. Soap hissed at the pain that shot up his side, but he did not stop. 

Soap fired at him again, but neither of his shots landed. As he was running by to get behind Ghost to the bomb, Ghost reached out and grabbed Soap by the back of his tac vest, pulling him off his feet and sending his AK sliding across the floor. Soap landed with a grunt, but rolled away just as Ghost tried landing a kick to his ribs. 

He grabbed the garbage can lid up from the ground, right as Ghost leveled his pistol at him again, and with all the strength inside him, he surged to his feet and swung the aluminum lid at Ghost’s hand. It connected with a teeth rattling clang that knocked the gun straight from his grasp. A cold sweat broke out on the nape of Soap’s neck when he saw Ghost pull a knife from his vest—he knew exactly how good Ghost was with a blade and it did not bode well for him at all. 

Not taking any time to dwell on it, Soap punched Ghost as hard as he could in the jaw, narrowly missing a swipe from his knife. It knocked Ghost back a couple steps, far enough for Soap to haul ass the last few meters to the bomb. 

He had just enough time to open the compartment on the front panel and pull out the original chip. But right as he was taking Laswell’s replacement chip from his pocket, Ghost caught up to him, and with a heart-stopping growl, threw him up against the railing overlooking the river. Soap hissed in pain and dropped the chip down onto the glass floor of the skybridge. Shit shit shit. 

Ghost grabbed him by the front of his vest and was about to slam him into the railing again, but Soap was able to get his feet under him just in time to knee Ghost in the balls. Ghost released Soap’s vest and doubled over immediately. So he’s not all machine, then, Soap thought smugly to himself. 

Casting a quick glance down to where the chip had landed, Soap climbed over the railing and carefully dropped down onto the thick glass floor. Adrenaline was pumping through him, staving off the pain of his injuries somewhat, but he could still feel the throb from the bullet wound on his hip with each inhale. 

A rush of relief crested through him when he scooped up the precious chip and saw it was still intact. That relief was quickly doused, though, when Soap turned around to look for a way back up to the bomb just in time to see Ghost jumping down from the upper deck. He landed on his feet with a heavy thud. Soap’s heart knocked heavily in his chest.

Unchecked rage was etched across Ghost’s face as he flipped the knife in his hand a couple times. The memory of Ghost, Soap’s Ghost, doing that trick with the blade, rose unbidden in Soap’s mind and he was immediately transported back to the kitchen in their flat where Ghost was chopping vegetables and flipping his knife around and Soap was teasing him about chopping his own damn finger off if he wasn’t careful. The clarity of the memory punched the air straight out of Soap’s lungs and he gasped in a breath. 

Ghost looked at him with no recognition whatsoever. And it damn near broke Soap’s heart. It was like losing Simon all over again. Swallowing thickly, Soap closed his fingers around the chip and braced himself for the fight to come.  

Heavy silence hung between them until Ghost tilted his head to the side, then snarled. He rushed forward, swinging his knife in precise, deadly arcs. Soap blocked the first attack, but when Ghost pressed in close, trying to drive his knife into Soap’s chest, the strength behind it was almost more than Soap could fend off. He pushed back against the knife with everything he had but still saw it inching closer. His last resort was to head-butt Ghost and so he did—twice. It left him momentarily dazed and it knocked Ghost back a step, but not before he sliced a deep gash to Soap’s shoulder. 

Soap’s fingers spasmed involuntarily and he dropped the chip. He was not fast enough to pick it up this time. Ghost scrambled across the floor, blood trickling down his forehead, and grabbed it. 

Soap, still reeling from cracking his skull against Ghost’s, didn’t think twice about jumping on top of him. They tussled for a moment, and Soap was somehow able to roll behind him and put Ghost in a headlock, with his non-metal arm up above his head. 

“Drop it, Ghost!” he shouted, squeezing his elbow around Ghost’s neck. 

Ghost struggled against him, but Soap only held on tighter. He squeezed tight enough to dislocate Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost howled in pain, but he still did not release the chip. 

“Fucking drop it!” Soap cried desperately. 

A pang of sadness swept through him. He had dreamt of nothing more these last five years than having Simon back. It was all he'd wanted. But not like this. This was like some hideous fucking cosmic joke. Whatever Makarov had done to him had taken away everything Soap had ever loved. Having him back, alive, but having to go through with this? Having to lose him all over again? It made him sick with grief.

Ghost let out an enraged growl and tried swiping back at Soap with his metal arm. Soap moved his head to the side to dodge it and wrapped his legs around Ghost’s middle for more leverage. It was like when they used to spar during training sessions—Soap was always better at pinning Ghost back then, too, even though Ghost had a height advantage over him. But this wasn’t a training session…this was life or death.

After what felt like an eternity of holding on, Ghost finally went slack. His hand went limp and he released the chip onto the glass floor. Soap sucked in a ragged breath and shimmied out from under him. Scooping the chip up once more, he took off for a scaffolding tower that led back up to the main level with only one look over his shoulder at Ghost. He still had a chance to get through to him. Once he disabled this bomb, once the people of this city were safe, he would try again. He wasn’t ready to give up on Simon just yet. 

Ghost jolted back to consciousness with a broken gasp. He didn’t know where he was for a moment and his whole body hurt. But then he looked up and saw the man with the blue eyes climbing up to the bomb and Makarov’s orders took over everything: protect the счисление пути, no matter the cost. Sergeant John MacTavish will try to stop you. You are to take him out. 

Stumbling to his feet, Ghost looked around for a weapon. His right arm was hanging uselessly at his side and he knew he would not be able to climb up after the man, not in enough time to stop him. Ghost suddenly spotted his pistol on the ground a few meters away and picked it up with his functional arm. A warm rivulet of blood tracked down his forehead and over the bridge of his nose but he blinked it out of his eye as he leveled the gun at the man. 

The numb rage that was Ghost’s constant companion helped to blot out some of the pain coursing through him, but not all of it. It didn’t really matter though. All that mattered was the mission and the objective. That was all. 

The man was at the bomb now and he was opening the control compartment. Ghost tried aiming but it was hard to focus. A whisper of a memory called to him and, for a moment, Ghost thought he might have met the man standing at Makarov’s weapon before. Before today? He couldn’t remember. Everything in his mind was so tangled up he couldn’t think straight. Laying in bed. Smiling. Blue eyes.

A white hot flash of pain lanced through Ghost’s skull and he pressed the heel of his hand, still holding his gun, to his temple. He felt like he was being torn in two from memories he couldn’t quite grasp, memories that might not even be real. But his objective was all-powerful and it ultimately won out again. He aimed the gun once more. He aimed it straight at his target’s head. 

And right as he was about to pull the trigger, that confusing knot of memories resurfaced. He couldn’t do it. Don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it please don’t. The shot that should have finished this instead grazed his target’s shoulder. It knocked the man back a step but it did not stop him. 

Ghost grit his teeth, on the very verge of losing his mind. TAKE HIM OUT. He could not disobey Makarov’s direct order and yet another part of him was begging him to defy it. A whimper filtered up in Ghost’s throat as he brought the gun up again. His hand shook and it startled him. His hand never shook. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger. When he opened them he saw the man looking at him. His shot had not even come close to the target this time. 

Panic mixed fluidly with rage-driven fear. Ghost didn’t know what to do. He’d never felt this way before. Yes, you have, a small voice at the back of his mind said. When you fell. Don’t you remember? The man with the blue eyes, he was reaching for you. Ghost shook his head and took an unsteady step forward. 

When he looked up again, he saw the man running away from Makarov’s weapon. He was yelling at Ghost to get to cover. But Ghost, in his utter confusion, did not understand until the bomb went off. 

The very next second an ear piercing squeal assaulted Ghost’s ears and he was blown backward. Part of the ceiling began raining down huge scraps of metal and concrete and Ghost suddenly found himself trapped under a heavy steel beam. The explosion that he knew Makarov’s bomb was capable of would have leveled half of this city, so Ghost realized the man with the blue eyes must have disabled it only part way before it went off.  

He didn't have time to dwell on it. The glass floor beneath him was beginning to crack under the weight of the debris falling from the ceiling. It groaned and shuddered like a massive sheet of ice about to give way. Ghost squirmed desperately, trying to get out from under the beam, but with only one functional arm, it was impossible. 

The man with the blue eyes was suddenly at his side. Ghost looked up at him, bewildered. Why had he come back? To finish him off, most likely. He had to get out from under this beam, he had to complete his objective. With his last reserve of strength left in him, Ghost pushed back on the beam while the man lifted. It was just enough space for him to slide out. And as soon as he did, he was up on his feet, ready to fight again. 

“You know me,” the man said, panting. He looked as wrecked as Ghost felt. 

A fury Ghost had never known boiled over inside him. His mind had been so broken for so long, he didn’t have the energy to try to piece it back together anymore. 

“No, I don’t!” he shouted, bringing up his fist to punch him. 

He struck the man’s face and watched as he went down on one knee. Ghost’s chest heaved as the man stood up again slowly. A bruise was already beginning to form on his cheek. Seeing it made Ghost’s heart clench painfully under his ribs, but he couldn’t say why. 

“Ghost, you’ve known me for years.”

Conflicting memories tore at Ghost, confusing him more than ever. Laying in bed with the man, holding his face, smiling, laughing, falling, falling, falling. None of it made sense. He lashed out, hitting the man again, this time with a backhand. The man went down once more, but got up again after a moment. Ghost felt hot, angry tears well up in his eyes and he quickly dashed them away with the palm of his metal hand. 

The man with the dark hair was unsteady on his feet. His bottom lip was swollen and split. Blood was tracking down his chin in a thin red line. “Your name is Simon Riley,” he rasped. 

That name. It tugged at something deep in Ghost’s brain. It hurt to think about. Raw indignation quickly replaced the pain. “Shut up!” 

Ghost pushed him back but they both stumbled when the skybridge trembled. The whole thing would be in the river below soon. Ghost didn’t particularly care. As long as he fulfilled his duty to Makarov, that was enough. 

“I’m not going to fight you, Simon,” the man said, voice cracking. His hands fell to his sides and his lip quivered. “You’re the love of my life.”

Incandescent rage consumed him. There were too many things warring inside him that he didn’t understand. And so he did the only thing he knew left to do. He tackled him. If he made him stop talking, then maybe the agony in his mind would finally end. 

“You’re my mission!” Ghost roared, knocking him to the ground and straddling him on one of the cracking glass panels. He grabbed the man’s vest and shook him hard. The man didn’t fight back—didn’t try to escape Ghost’s grasp. He laid his hand over Ghost’s where it was gripping his shoulder strap.

Ghost raised his fist, ready to lay another punch to the man’s face.

The man only looked up at him with those blue eyes, crushing Ghost with an indescribable sincerity when he said, “Then finish it. ‘Cause we’re a team, Simon. No one fights alone.”

Ghost froze, eyes wide and mouth slack. He drug air into his lungs in heavy gasps with his fist still poised to strike. With those words it all came flooding back. Everything. 

Johnny.

Falling from the helo, Johnny screaming for him, Makarov’s experiments. There were still so many fractured pieces that wouldn’t fit together the right way, but the whole picture was clearer now than it had ever been. Chest heaving, Ghost slowly lowered his fist. 

“Johnny?” He breathed his name like he was waking from a long slumber full of nightmares. 

Johnny’s brows drew together and a palpable wave of relief washed over his face as Ghost looked down at him. Ghost’s heart thundered in his ears when Johnny brought a hand up to cup his cheek.

 “Simon,” he said, voice thick with emotion and eyes shimmering. “I thought I’d lost ya.” 

Ghost wanted to nuzzle into the touch, but he was still battling against the deeply ingrained and unrelenting drive to follow Makarov’s orders. Sergeant John MacTavish will try to stop you. You are to take him out. Understood? He couldn’t stop his fist from tightening over the strap of Johnny’s vest. The memories he’d just gathered began slipping away again along with his control over his own mind. Gritting his teeth and fighting with every last reserve of strength, Ghost loosened his grasp and let go of the strap. The fingers of his metal hand trembled as he drew them back. 

Ghost was about to stand, to pull Johnny to his feet and shove him toward the stairwell, fully intending to force him as far away as possible. He didn’t trust himself not to hurt him. 

He needed to find Makarov, needed to make him pay for what he’d done. And then, when Ghost was certain that bastard couldn’t come after him again, he’d find Johnny once more. It tore his heart to shreds, but it was the only way he could make sure Johnny was safe…from Ghost himself, most especially. 

But just as he'd made up his mind and was pushing to his feet, the glass floor gave way and he and Johnny were suddenly falling into the river below. 

Soap only had a few moments of looking into Simon’s eyes, his Simon’s eyes, before he found himself plunging down into Rock Creek far below the collapsing skybridge. It was such an unexpected jolt, he barely had time to hold his breath as he was crashing into the freezing water. He tried kicking to the surface, but the amount of debris falling down around him disoriented him and made it hard to catch his bearings. 

Vision fading at the edges, Soap looked up through the murky depths to see Simon’s metal arm reaching out for him. He latched onto his hand. And then everything went dark.

The next thing Soap knew, he was on his back on the rough sandy shore, coughing up river water. He opened his eyes slowly. Simon was standing above him, dripping wet and holding his injured arm against his side with his metal arm. Soap tried sitting up, but felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. He sunk back down with a grunt.  

“Simon,” he croaked, throat raw from inhaling water.  

But Ghost began turning away. Soap reached for him. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. How could Simon leave now that Soap had just found him? He saw that recognition in Simon’s eyes up there on the skybridge. He knew he did .  

“Please, don’t go.” Tears stung his eyes. 

“I have to stop him.” Ghost paused and turned back to look at Soap. ” I’ll come back to you, Johnny. I swear it.” 

Soap tried reaching for him again, but everything went fuzzy and dark. 

When he opened his eyes this time, Soap found himself in a hospital bed. Various machines were beeping softly and warm sunlight was shining in through a large window on the other side of the room. Soap felt pain-free, but in the numb, medically induced way. It couldn’t touch the pain of the ache deep in his chest, though, of losing Simon all over again. If he would have just waited, Soap would have willingly gone with him, to fight beside him. Once he was out of this hospital, he’d hunt Makarov down himself, whether Price gave him the order to or not…It was the only way he’d find Simon again. 

Blinking back tears, Soap looked around. There was another bed in the room. With Gaz dozing away in it. His leg was bandaged up and he was sporting a few more cuts and scrapes, but he was otherwise intact. 

Soap smiled and pulled a pen off his bedside table. He tossed it at Gaz, waking him up. He knew he could count on Gaz to come with him, too, if he asked. The 141 stuck together, no matter what. No one fights alone. 

“On your left, Sergeant.”  

#ghostsoap #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod #mw2 #winter soldier au

[rbinsgf]

Steddie but make it winter soldier au ?! I’m going feral at the mere thought of it 👹

Completely unhinged long haired brunette fighting against his childhood best friend golden boy named Steve ?! Someone SEDATE ME 😩😩😩😩😩

Vecna as like Hydra, Robin as BlackWidow/Natasha super Russian spy style, Nancy as Sam/Falcon oooooh this would be too good 🫠🫠

Steve and Eddie as childhood bestie who drifted apart as they grew up and post s3 Eddie gets taken by the Upside Down/Vecna and gets turned into Kas/Winter Soldier OH MY GOD SOMEONE WRITES THIS PLEASE ?!

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #nancy wheeler #steddie #steve x eddie #marvel #Marvel stranger things #winter soldier au #the fruity four

[pinkiebieberpie]

requested by @moonchildlov thank you, honey!! 🖤

zombie apocalypse!bucky

what's your favorite scary moodboard?

#what's your favorite scary moodboard? #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #sebastian stan characters #winter soldier au #the winter solider #halloween #kinktober

[doctorhelena]

Wednesday 100 Challenge

Week 2 - PeggyNat

Written for the @100wednesday​ any ship, any fandom, old-school drabble writing challenge! You can find the details here.

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"Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

Peggy looked thoughtful. "Does Bernard from Accounting count?"

"When did you kiss him?"

Peggy shrugged. "I didn't, but you seemed to want me to."

"That was before I knew you might be also interested in the ladies. Uh, I'd stay away from your next-door neighbour, by the way."

Peggy raised an eyebrow. "You mean my great niece Sharon? I rumbled her as a SHIELD agent immediately. But thanks for the warning."

"So - 

"That was not my first kiss since 1945."

"Huh."

"It was my best kiss since 1945, though."

"Huh," Natasha repeated, smugly.

#wednesday100 #peggynat #my fic #drabble #also kind of continued from last week #winter soldier au