Authors note: Hello, and welcome to my collection of chaos. This is where all my fics will be located and linked. Some of my fics might have separate master lists depending on how many parts I publish for them! I tend to write multi-part fics, but if I can hold myself back enough to get out a one-shot, this is where those will be linked! Thanks for visiting :)
Key:
đFluff | â€ïžâđ„Smut | đ Angst
S.W.A.T.
Who I will write for:
Deacon Kay
Dominique Luca
Jim Street
Tactical Hearts
(Series, On Hiatus)
đ/đ/ â€ïžâđ„ (Future)
Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x Original Character
Summary: Based in Season 2, S.W.A.T. is bringing in both old and new recruits as they recover from budget cuts. Among those new recruits, is Lily Blake. With her training and experience, she poses potential for the team. Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to overlook her spontaneous nature, or untraditional joining to S.W.A.T. Over time, feelings emerge and friendships are forged... and maybe something more.
Author's note: This is a slow burn romance, so it takes some time to pick up into the actual romance part. Sort of enemies to lovers, and a lot of chaotic behavior, as well as canon violence and such.
Recruit (Part 1)
Marvel Universe
Who I write for/Will write for:
Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Loki
Thor
Spider-Man (Tom or Andrew)
Bucky Barnes
Project G.H.O.S.T.
(Series, On Going)
đ/ đ
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character
Summary: Bucky assumed he was the last Super Soldier left. But what happens when he finds out that there might still be more like him, that there might be something Hydra cooked up that's worse than him?
Author's Note: This is an older fic I wrote for myself that I ended up carrying on for several parts. If it goes over well here I'll continue it, but for now I'll be posting what is written until there's requests for more or I just feel inspired to continue it.
Heaven Scent (Brooklyn Devil)- A Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader (Part 1 in Series)
đ/â€ïžâđ„/đ
Summary: A modern supernatural twist on the Marvel Universe where Bucky and Steve are still super soldiers, but their enemy isnât Hydra. Itâs every supernatural lurking on earth. SHIELD is now the organization created to maintain peace and balance between humans and supernaturals, and the Avengers are the elite force of agents sent to take down the most terrible of monsters. What happens when one of their own is turned?
Brooklyn Devil Masterlist
His- A Winter Soldier x reader (One-Shot)
Darkness- A Winter Soldier x Reader (One Shot, Part Two to His)
Sun Up- A Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Reader (One Shot, Final Part to His, In Progress)
â€ïžâđ„ (Straight Up)
Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and youâd been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isnât himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to sayâŠ
Lean On Me- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot, Requested)
Summary: Reader deals with depression and hasnât told anyone in fear that theyâd think differently of her or treat her differently. Bucky sweeps in to prove sheâs wrong.
đ/đ (Hurt/Comfort)
Moments Stolen- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot)
Summary: You take some time to spend with your favorite person.
đ(Angst)
Thor Odinson
Voice from the Stars- Thor Odinson x Reader (One-Shot, In progress)
Summary: You speak to the stars in quiet hopes that your voice will be heard, and one day it is. A little hurt/comfort, angsty/fluffy Soulmate AU based after Thor: Ragnarök.
đ/ đ (Angst/Fluff)
Loki Laufeyson
Battle Braids- Loki Laufeyson x Reader (One-shot, Requested, In Progress)
Supernatural
Who I will write for:
Dean Winchester
Sam Winchester
Castiel
The Walking Dead
Who I will write for:
Daryl Dixon
Daryl Dixon
Girl in the Woods (Nightshade)- Daryl Dixon x Original Character (Series, In Progress)
Summary: âWho knew a herbalist in her mid twenties would survive the downfall of the world? I sure didnât.â
The story of September, a herbalist before the fall, that begins in Season 4 of The Walking Dead. She takes a liking to our beloved group of survivors, especially a certain hunterâŠ
đ/đ/â€ïžâđ„ (slow burn with eventual smut)
Nightshade Masterlist
Scars- Age gap Daryl Dixon x Reader (One-Shot, In Progress)
Summary: While on a run, Daryl gets injured and holed up with (Y/N). They decide to wait til daybreak to return to the group, and things get intimate.
đ/đ (Hurt/Comfort & fluff)
Love Me or Hate Me?- Daryl Dixon x Reader (One-Shot, Requested, In Progress)
Summary: Requested from Prompt List with âYou think Iâm going to leave you here?â âWho made you the leader?â And âWe shouldnât be doing this.â Enemies to lovers vibes!
đ/đ
Wolfblood
Who I will write for:
Rhydian Morris
Vampire Diaries
Who I will write for:
Damon Salvatore
Elijah Mikaelson
Kai Parker
Twilight
Who I will write for:
Paul Lahote
Seth Clearwater
Jacob Black
Jacob Black
Inhuman (Life of Lies)- Jacob Black x Original Character (Series, In progress)
Summary: Haunted by the memory of her parents strange death at a young age, Olivia Weathers is thrown into the foster care system. She moved from Forks at the age of 8, and hadnât looked back since. But when her therapist recommends going back to her hometown for her senior year of high school, Livy is thrown into a whole new set of problems she wasnât expecting. Suspicions are confirmed and even more mysteries come to light.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character
Summary: Bucky assumed he was the last Super Soldier left. But what happens when he finds out that their might still be more like him, that there might be something Hydra cooked up that's worse than him?
The mission had started smoothly, but it sure went to shit fast.
The supposedly abandoned Hydra base Tony had sent Steve and I the coordinates to was, in fact, not abandoned, and was more heavily guarded than any other base we had ever infiltrated. Tony had mentioned that there was an experimental weapon being handled at this base a few years ago and that they had relocated when we started attacking their safe houses and ordered us to try and find any remaining information they might have left behind. Once Steve and I had rid the base of any hostiles, we began sweeping.
Nothing could have prepared me for what we found.
Steve's brow scrunched in concern as I read through the notes of one of the doctors who worked on the Super Soldier experiments. There were detailed descriptions of mission reports that were not my own, and instead detailed my performance as well as notes on the performance of an experiment referred to 'GHOST-01.'
I clenched my jaw as realization struck me, "Someone was watching me."
Steve nodded slowly, "Looks like it, but read further. They were making sure you stayed alive."
I looked at the page again, reading over the report regarding my safety. There were several pages worth of reports on attempts on my life, close calls and how the experiment had handled the issue.
"They wanted to make sure I kept coming back. They wanted to make sure I didn't stray from the mission so they sent someone to make certain I would return." I ground my teeth, "Come on, we found what we wanted." I turned back to Steve only to find him staring at another notebook with a grim expression on his face.
My heart stalled. That book. "What is that, Steve?"
His eyes found mine and his face paled, "It's another one like yours."
My stomach dropped to the floor, "No... that can't be. The others are dead, and the serum was destroyed."
Steve hesitated before handing me the bound black leather and my fingers grazed the blood red skull stamped on the front, "They've made another soldier. But Buck," Steve's eyes bored into mine, "They're still here. In cryo."
I couldn't breathe, the information knocking the air out of my lungs. How is that possible? The other soldiers were killed, how did this one get away? How did they figure out how to make a new serum?
Suddenly, it dawned on me. If they had made another soldier like me, chances where they were torn from their previous life and programed into another. Hydra wasn't big enough, didn't have enough followers, to make another willing soldier. I felt my heart begin to hammer against my rib cage. They could have lost everything just like I had. A trickling fear came to life in my stomach. "We have to find them." The words tore out of me, "we have to find them now."
Steve seemed to read the emotions rioting on my face. "Bucky," Steve grabbed my arm, "They could be dangerous. You know how you were, and the only reason we got you back is because you had someone close to you to bring you out of it. They won't." My friends' expression was grim.
I shook my head, "We can't leave them Steve. Leaving them here is condemning them to a life of torture. I can't do that, not when I know what it feels like. If they're dangerous we can sedate them and return to Stark Tower for the teams input." A pained expression flashed across his face but he sighed in understanding, nodding towards the door.
We searched three more floors before having to override a gate to another section of the compound. When we stepped in the room, the lights flickered on and two cryo tubes were illuminated on the far wall. One empty with the door open, and the other still contained a body.
I glanced at Steve warily before I scanned the area. No one was here. My heart pounded in my ribcage as I approached the tanks. The features of the girl encased inside became more clear, white hair frozen stiff behind the glass, and a face with frosted lashes and sharp features. A memory knocked me back a step at the sight of her, invading my mind and causing me to grip my head between my hands.
A girl, this girl, crying over my body. I remember being in pain; a bullet wound to the chest. She was pressing a powder into my wounds and speaking too fast in Russian for my muddled mind to comprehend.Â
Her anguished face and sobs echoed in my mind for a moment before dissipating as the world rushed back to me.
Steve's voice hesitantly spoke from behind me, "What is it Buck?"
I sucked in a breath and leaned against the base of the tube, staring up at her frozen face. "I know her."
"What do you mean?" Steve stepped up beside me and gazed at the control panel next to her.
"She had saved my life once. I don't remember the whole thing, but she was treating a bullet wound through my chest and she..." I replayed the memory in my head again, watching her face contort in pain as she pressed the powder farther into the wound. "She was crying."
Steve was quiet for a long moment before he stepped closer to the panel. He crouched low and checked the wiring, mumbling only loud enough for me to hear, "We can bring her out. We have to stay alert, but we can try and bring her back."
I stared at her, minutes dragging slowly as I contemplated his words. She could be dangerous, at this point it was pretty much guaranteed. We know close to nothing about her or if she'll wake up with a mission and try to kill us in the process. But something inside of me couldn't just leave her here in this God forsaken place to sleep for eternity. "Okay."
Steve nodded, stepping away and watching as I tinkered with the control panel. A moment later a shock of electricity was sent through the tube and her body jumped. The heart monitor jumped once but flatlined again. I pressed the button again, another blip and then her heart started back. The ice slowly melted away as the tube defrosted the body inside. I glanced back at Steve as he watched the girl too, his shield up and ready just in case she came out guns blazing.
"Well done, Soldat."
My blood ran cold. I turned, taking in the man in front of us now. I don't know how we hadn't noticed him before. "Hydra has missed you. We knew you would return for her." The man nodded his head in the girls direction, aiming his revolver at my chest as the front of the tube popped open, releasing a hiss as the pressure rushed out. Her body still lay motionless as the heart monitor continued its rhythm.
Steve brought his shield up, stepping forward. "Who are you?"
His finger twitched on the trigger and Steve flinched, "Ah-Ahh, wouldn't do that Captain. Wouldn't want to put a hole in Sergeant Barnes now, would we? Not yet at least." He stepped forward, but kept a wise distance from both of us as he did so. "She will be so happy to see you, Soldat. She hasn't been able to complete her mission, the punishments have been quite brutal." His smile was a vicious thing as it curved up his face.
I clenched my fists, the plates of my left arm shifting as my fingers curled tighter.
"Isn't that right Ghost?" A blur entered my peripheral vision, white hair and steely blue eyes. She didn't speak, only stared at the man, her eyes zeroed on his gun still pointed towards me.
The man let out a short burst of laughter before looking at Steve. "I knew you would come back to us Mr. Barnes. I did not predict that you would be here Captain, but it will make Sergeant Barnes death all the more enjoyable."
There was a tug at my hip and a distinct click of a bullet sliding into the chamber right next to my ear as a gun appeared over my right shoulder, aimed directly towards the man in front of me.
The room stilled and the man's eyes blew wide. "Ghost, stand down."
She didn't move. Her lack of response seemed to irritate the man before me, his face contorting into rage. "I said, stand down!"
Still, the gun remained trained on the man. Unwavering. He roared in anger, "Useless Bitch! Your mission is to kill him! I am your commander! If you won't listen to me, I'll kill him myself!"
It didn't take more than a second before the shots rang out, hitting their target with perfect precision. The man's body dropped to the floor like it was made of lead, a hole in his skull and a hole in his heart. A third had been fired, and my eyes shot to Steve only to find him staring behind me.
My ear was ringing and there was a pressure right over my chest where my heart was, but I wasn't in pain. There was a soft grunt and the pressure left me, I stood cemented in place as the gun was moved out of my line of vision. I glanced towards the girl now as she took a few steps away. Her eyes were flicking between Steve's and my own.
She gripped the gun, my gun, in her right hand at her side defensively while the left dripped blood onto the floor. Her eyes scanned down my body, and then bored holes into Steve behind me.
I took a breath as I raised my hand to cover my still ringing ear, nodding at him before looking back at the girl, "Don't move."
"She has a gun, Buck." Steve clutched his shield tighter, lifting it slightly.
Her reaction was immediate, gun raised and aimed at Steve.
I raised my hands, stepping in front of her, "No! Don't shoot!" Our eyes met, chilling me to the bone as the light glanced off of irises that weren't quite human. "Don't shoot." There was a flicker of life, of an emotion I couldn't place, and then the gun lowered back to her side.
I heard Steve's breath of relief behind me as my own shoulders relaxed. She watched me, waiting.
I hadn't realized what she was waiting for until her eyes flickered again to Steve and then back to my own. I cleared my throat, "Stand down, he's not a threat."
In one swift gesture she flipped the gun, raising the butt of it towards me, not once breaking eye contact. The only sound made as I gently took the gun from her was the drip of blood still flowing from her hand. I watched it hit the cement before I spoke again, "You're bleeding."Â Idiot, she knows that.
She looked at her palm, raising her other hand and cramming her index finger into the wound without flinching. She then, to Steve's and my own horror, dug around for a moment before metal dropped down to the floor with a clank.
I stared at the misshapen stud as it bounced a few times. The bullet that would have killed me had she not blocked it, hadn't caught it, rolled haphazard across the concrete just next to her bare foot.
She once again resumed staring at me, watching, waiting for orders with her glassy eyes.
My throat was dry and my heart pounded in my chest. "What is your mission?"
Without hesitation, she spoke. "Protect the Asset at all costs."
đ„č I am so happy youâre enjoying it! Iâm really trying to work up the motivation to continue writing for this series. Thank you for the reblog!!!
Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Original Character
Summary: Bucky must deal with the results of his momentary slip in control⊠and they are life-altering for more than just himself.
Authorâs Note: I wrote this on a half a glass of strong wine and a singular tortilla. Giving Iâm not finished with the glass as of current (10:20pm), I will not be taking any responsibility for whatever happens after now đ€·ââïž. It be what it be. I also did not edit this, so I'll do that another time to make sure there's no plot holes before I get the next part out next week. Enjoy!
Warnings: Mentions of blood, kidnapping if you squint, self deprecating thoughts, vampy things, probably bad world building.
Word Count: 1,169
Oliviaâ
I waited ever so patiently for Steve to return. An hour went by, and I spent it picking at a hangnail on my thumb. The next one I spent angrily staring at the door and willing someoneâ absolutely anyoneâ to walk through it. The third I spent pacing the empty side of the small room like my life depended on it.
If I was stuck in here for another day I think Iâd wear a hole through the floor with all the pacing Iâd do.
A knock at the door had my head spinning around and a plethora of angry accusations teetering on the tip of my tongue before they died abruptly.
Steve looked haggard. It seemed impossible for someone to look so tired when Iâd seen him only a handful of hours prior. But somehow, he looked worn to the bone.
âUm⊠Is there something wrong?â I asked carefully, quietly praying I didnât have an incurable disease or something in those tiny vials of blood Iâd donated.
Steve seemed to come to at my voice, as if he hadnât realized heâd even come into the room yet. âSorry, no. Thereâs nothing wrong with your blood work.â His shoulders remained tense as he forced himself to take another breath, his head falling back and eyes staring into the ceiling as if he wished it to fall on him. âI canât release you yet. There's⊠a situation, and I need you to stay.â
I stared at him. He was kidding right? I mustâve said it out loud, because Steve replied with another monumental sigh.
âI am not kidding.â I watched as his eyes closed momentarily before he looked at me and put on his best smile.
It was terrible.
âIâve been here for days! This was supposed to be a nice little vacation! What could possibly be so important that I have to stay here?â I wondered if I could outrun him. He was a good distance from the door, so one good juke might do itâ
âSomeoneâs life depends on it.â
What?
That dirty blonde hair of his swayed as he shook his head, arms coming up to cross over his broad chest. âI said, someoneâs life depends on you remaining here. Someone very important to me.âÂ
I really needed to get that whole speaking-my-inner-thoughts-out-loud thing under control. I blamed it on the confinement. âI donât get it. Something really isn't making sense here. You got holes in your reasoning, pal. How could my being here mean life or death for someone I donât even know?â
With a look that could freeze hell, he flattened his lips into a thin line and spoke through his teeth. âIt's complicated.â
Feeling like Iâd pushed the poor man past his sanity, I took that answer with squinted eyes and forced silence. It seemed to stave off whatever gasket seemed to be near bursting behind his eyes.
âIâll make sure you have three square meals. You are not a prisoner, but you will be confined to this room for your own safety. We work with hazardous materials and very dangerous individuals. Itâs important not to leave this room until youâre properly informed of the situation.âÂ
I was facing his back before I could blink, barely able to get a word out before his hand was on the door handle. âHeyâ wait! When am I going to be properly informed? How long is this going to take?â
My eyes tracked the heave of his shoulders, noting the tension bunched between his shoulder blades. âAs promptly as possible. Stay put.â
With that, he made a hurried exit, the telltale sound of the deadbolt sliding in place behind him.
Bucky-
Iâd read over the book Steve had found three times over. Front to back and then again. My jaw ached with how tightly I clenched my teeth, anger and regret swirling among a storm of other emotions. Hatred for what I was reigned prominent, sharing space in my mind right next to the itching need to feed. To taste her again.
Some poor victim Iâd stupidly lapsed with and thrown into an impossible situation.
I wanted to apologize to her, but I knew it was a terrible idea. Just the hint of her shampoo that clung to Steveâs suit was enough to draw the veins under my eyes and cloud my vision in red haze. It was like my Brooklyn days all over again. Instincts reigning over my logic no matter how much I knew I needed to get my head on straight. The thirst driving impulsive decisions.
I had no idea how this was going to work. I knew Steve wouldnât just let the natural process happen. Let the girl leave and allow me to go through the process of⊠Well, whatever my kind did when we didnât feed. That, or give me a mercifully quick end. Either would be better than subjecting her to me. To something that had to live off of her like some parasite.
Because thatâs what I am now. Her parasite. Something bound to take and take from her. I had nothing of value to give her. Nothing she needed. Not anything to amount to what I had to take from her.
A dark, hollow feeling settled deep in me at that revelation.
Footsteps carried faintly to me from beyond the vault door. I recognized the gait, steady and confident, as the vault cranked open and that faint scent of sweet flowers sent my head spinning.
âWe have to figure out what to do with her soon.â Steveâs boot stopped outside my cell door, âShe isnât going to be very cooperative for much longer.â
I nodded, because I couldnât bring myself to form complete sentences at the moment as I struggled to swallow back an overwhelming thirst.
That didnât stop Steveâs rant. âIâve got some friends that can give her a fake ID for the building. Get her into our systems so we can keep her under the guise of a new recruit or something until we can sort something out long term. Maybe train her, orâ.â
âSteve,â I muttered, pressing my fingers into my eyelids, âWeâre talking about a civilian woman. A woman who is now bound to be my living blood bank. Nonconsensually.â I emphasize, âShe isnât going to go along with anything.â
âI think we can reason with herââ
âAnd then what? Force her to drop the life she has somewhere else? For what, some monster that has to drink from her to stay alive? In what world is someone reasonable going to agree with that? I wouldnât.â I shake my head, looking at him from my spot on the floor. âJust let her get back to her life.â
âBuck, thatâs not going to happen. Iâm not going to let you justâ just die. I canât do that. Not without trying to get her to listen first.â My best friend stared me down with that look Iâd seen a million times growing up. He wasnât going to let this go.
I shook my head, inhaling deeply. A mistake I realized too late as another wave of hunger rose at the scent of her once more. At this rate, Iâd have to work on exposure therapy again just to be in a room with her. That was if she didnât run screaming at the sight of me first.
âIâm working on something that might help you two get to know each other. I think itâs the only way she will agree to hear us out.â Steve said after a few beats, voice low. âDo you think you can keep a level head if sheâs around?â
I gave him a wide eyed look, âSteveââ
âNot in the same room. Separated by a door or window like this. Maybe something she canât see through so we can work her up to meet you and help you adjust to her at the same time.Maybe if she got to know you, sheâd be more willing.â
Steve was all too hopeful, and I didnât have the energy or the heart to shoot him down.
So I nodded and prayed to whatever was listening that it didnât go horribly wrong.
Back to terrorize this app every weekend starting tomorrow! The fourth installment of Brooklyn Devil will be out sometime tomorrow evening đ Iâm excited to be writing again Iâm also happy to say thatI have some interesting developments Iâm juggling around to stick in the story!
Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Original Character
Authorâs Note: This is unedited as of today, but Iâll read it over tomorrow and edit it for sure! Wanted to get it out because the story is about to get into the good stuff.
Summary: Steve finds a clue into what might be happening to Bucky, and theres only one way to prove it right or wrong.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, descriptions of illness, hospitals, vampire related actions
Word Count: 1,957
Olivia-
Doctors had been in and out since Steve left. Iâd been poked and prodded and monitored for the majority of yesterday and well into today.
It had been two days in this godforsaken white room and I missed my hotel room.
Thatâs right, hotel room, because I had spent yesterday evening piecing back together my foggy memory until I had finally put the picture together. I lived in Colorado in a small town. I worked the average unfulfilling job with a degree I didnât use and absolutely no life outside of it.
And I felt empty. Bored and greedy for something more. For change.
Boy did I get what I asked for.
This was supposed to be a vacation. A fun little trip to the big city of New York. Take a break away from boredom and go somewhere with no one who knew who I was. I wanted to be exciting, go to parties and bars and have a good time!
Not get kidnapped by vampires and nearly murdered or trapped in some weird hospital room God knows where.
My office job sounded like heaven right now.
The door to the room creaked open, and I whipped around from where I had paused in my pacing. Steve stood there, a wrinkle between his dirty blonde brows. âI apologize for leaving you so abruptly the other day. I had something to handle.â
âSomething that took two days?â I ask incredulously, throwing my arms out, âIâve been poked and prodded by a bunch of strange people in lab coats like Iâm some kinda alien with no other explanation than vampires and supernatural voodoo!â
âI am sorry.â He says slowly, folding his arms over his broad chest, âBut there was something a lot more pressing than your comfort and knowledge.â
I gave him a withering look, âApology not accepted, jerk.â
I watched his shoulders rise and fall in a defeated sigh, âLook, this would be a lot easier if it were just you involved in this, but there's a lot more going on that I have to deal with. The doctors are trying to make sure you arenât changing, that you werenât bitten during that whole fiasco. Weâre all just trying to make sure youâre well. I wouldâve gotten around to telling you that before, but you were too busy mocking me.â
Guilt crept its way into my stomach. Okay, maybe I needed to give this guy a bit more leash. âSorry for that. I still donât know if I believe it, but⊠Youâre right. I should be more considerate.â I mumbled, shuffling my feet in shame.
Another sigh leaves him as he drops his crossed arms to motion to the hospital bed. âWould you sit?â
I nod, making my way over to plant myself on the edge. âSo⊠why are you back now?â
His hand smoothed over the lower half of his face, scratching over his beard. âI need to take some blood samples as a final test. Are you alright with that?â
The mention of drawing blood made me a bit queasy, shifting my hands. âAnd then I can go home?â
Steve nods, âYes. One last test and then we can send you home.â
His words bounce around in my brain a few times before I accept his terms. âI canât look. Seeing it come out makes me nauseous.â
Steve chuckled at that, moving towards the door. âGive me a minute. Gonna go grab the nurse.â
I wait for a bit, jumping when it opens again and a young woman not much older than me by the looks of it, carts in a plethora of medical devices. I turn away as she draws my blood, feeling my heartbeat in my ears.
And then sheâs putting a few small vials in a holder and leaving, quick and easy.
I rub the small cotton ball she taped to my arm, glancing at the apple and juicebox she left on the small table beside the bed. The only thing left was to wait for Steve to return and give me the all clear on my bloodwork.
Then I was homebound and I could forget this whole hellish nightmare of a vacation.
I stood outside the vault door to Buckyâs cell. My eyes studied the keypad, mind mulling over what I was about to do. The weight of the lie Iâd told Olivia was great, and I feared what I was about to do would only make things worse. Much, much worse.
Two days ago, when Iâd sat down at that computer in Bannerâs lab, Iâd spent the entire night digging through every vampire related report SHIELD possessed. When digital search came up short, I traveled down to records and requested the oldest texts and reports we didnât have digitized. Iâd gone through tomes and tomes of information. Vampire anatomy, brain chemistry, dissections, noted bloodlines, the original texts, all of it.
Only one small miniscule book held anything mildly close to what Bucky was experiencing.
What I dreaded might be true. Now, there was only one way to test the theory.
I punched the code into the vault, letting it draw open. Silence met me, and my stomach dropped as I rushed to the last cell, eyes wide and panic settling into my gut. Bucky sat with his back resting against the metal rungs of the bed, legs sprawled on the floor and the trashcan a short distance from him. His eyes remained closed and sunken, skin still that sickly pale color.
âBuck? Hey, pal, wake up.â I knocked on the glass, watching his chest rise slowly, âBuck.â
He stirred, eyelids fluttering open, âSorry⊠just⊠So tired, Stevie. And hungry,â He groaned, head falling forward. âSo hungry.â
âI know, pal. Iâm working on it. Did the new batch of substitutes not work?â There was still hope. There had to be.
But his head shook slowly, âJust came back up. Hurt worse than the last time. Feels like my head is splittinâ open. Stomach hurts. Everything hurts.â
I nod, looking at the floor and feeling the ache from worrying my lip all day. This was it.
âI have something else. Something that might help.â
Buckyâs dark hair sways as his head lifts, eyes unfocused. âWhat?â
Moving towards the door of the glass cell, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out two vials. Their weight pressed heavily into my hand, one still warm.
I opened the slot in the door, dropping one into it and shutting it gently, listening to it roll against the metal as the other side allowed a hands width of space.
My friend shoved up from the floor, shoulders slumped as he dragged one foot after the other over to the door. The veins were back under his eyes, writhing and reddening his eyes. There was a flash of fangs when he winced, forearm coming up to catch himself against the glass as his other hand reached into the slot and snagged the vial.
âDonor?â He grunted out the question, thumb popping off the cap before I could answer. I could tell he was truly desperate at that moment. Bucky refused to drink human blood in fear of relapsing. To see him rush to down it so quickly where heâd normally walk the other way only fueled my concern further.
âHad a few bags brought in from a blood bankâ,â but Bucky was rushing to the trashcan before I even got it out, his knees hitting the cement as he curled over the can and retched.
I could only watch as his muscles contracted, forcing everything out in violent shudders.
âFuck,â he grunted, pain clear in his voice. âI canât keep doinâ this, Stevie. Itâs torture. I can⊠I can feel my body shutting down so slowly. I can feel myself growing hungrier. Iâm losinâ it.â
Every word stung, and the panic in my gut only grew and muddled with guilt. âI have just one more, Buck. One more thing to try.â
His brown hair was already swaying as his bowed head shook over the can, âNo. No more. I canât keep doing this. It hurts, Steve.â When he looked up, there were tears in his reddened eyes, âIt hurts so bad.â
I grit my teeth, leaning against the glass and pleading with him. âCâmon, pal. I need you to give this last one a go. Please? I canât give up without trying everything.â
There was a moment I thought heâd truly refuse. That heâd turn away and force me to watch him rot away in this cell. But the minutes ticked by, and the subtlest nod of his head had me slotting the warm vile of blood into the shoot.
Bucky dragged himself back over to the door and used the wall to support himself as he reached into the slot and raised the vial.
His eyes focussed on it, shoulders rising as he inhaled deeply, and then his eyes were on mine. âWhat is this?â
But it wasnât a question. Not truly. âItâs hers.â
âWhat?â His fist clenched a bit tighter against the vial, clearly tempted by itâs contents more than before. âWhy are youâ.â
âItâs my last option, Buck. Itâs either this, or I watch you die and I canât do that.â I mutter, clenching my teeth as I watch his veins crawl, his furrowed brows matching my own. âJust give it a try. Please.â
I watched his throat bob as he swallowed, eyes back on the vial in his hand. Just like before, he popped the lit off with his thumb and immediately stilled.
Buckyâs shoulders lifted once, then twice, as he inhaled. I watched in morbid fascination as his pupils blew wide and he threw back the vial, swallowing it down in a swift motion.
His arm wiped his mouth after, turning his body so that his back and head rested next to me on his side of the glass as I waited with bated breath.
And Waited⊠and waited.
But nothing happened.
His back remained pressed against the glass. No rushing to the trash can, no violent sickness wracked his body. There was just silence.
âIt worked,â I managed to get out, eyes on his profile, âIt worked, didnât it?â
Only the crunching of glass answered me, drawing my eyes to the glass falling from his fist. Caution flickered in the back of my head as he turned towards me, forearm coming up to match my stance on the other side with his eyes still closed.
When he spoke, his voice was strained and low. âIâve tasted it before.â
My heart stopped. âWhat?â
âThat night. A drop slipped past the mask. Tasted her then. Could smell it the second that cap came off.â Bucky let out a long breath, âThatâs what changed. Didnât think it was any different than⊠than before. Sâwhy I didnât tell you.â
I clenched my hands, âSo thatâs what set you off?â
He nods slowly, âThe smell of her⊠Itâs not like anything Iâve ever smelled before. Itâs intoxicating. Makes my head fuzzy.â Sharp teeth tugged his lip into his mouth, âMakes me hungry.â
When he opened his eyes, the veins were gone, and the red tint to his eyes lessened to an irritated pink. âWhatâs it mean, Steve?â
I pursed my lips, staying quiet as I tried to find an easy way to deliver my findings. âYouâve formed a bloodbond.â
I canât meet his eyes knowing how this will affect him. Knowing that what Iâm about to tell him shreds all hope he has in himself. It will tear any miniscule chance of alienating himself from what he is to pieces.
Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Original Character
Authorâs Note: Iâm really excited for this fic tbh so even if it flops Iâm gonna keep writing it because Iâm personally invested, and I must sink with this ship.
Summary: Waking up in an underground covert compound was NOT on Oliviaâs bingo card. Unfortunately, the situation seems to only be getting worse.
Warnings: Slightly OOC Steve (idk I think heâd do it), mentions of blood, cursing, hospitals, depictions of illness and vomiting, vampy things
Word Count: 2,112
Too bright.
I was tired, my body was sore, and I had this god awful dreamâ
My eyes snapped open, momentarily blinded by the assault of fluorescence. I blinked several times, pushing up abruptly to take in the stark white walls of an unfamiliar room. A room that looked an awful lot like a hospital room.
âEasy, youâre safe.â
I couldâve jumped out of my skin, nearly falling off the mattress I laid on as I took in the man next to me. He looked somewhat familiar, but I didnât know him. âWho are you? Where am I?â
The man shuffled in his seat, blonde hair swept back with a few strands dangling about eye level, and a thick beard well-kept at his jaw. âMy name is Steve. I was part of the team that rescued you. Youâre in a secured place.â
âRescued me?â I frowned, trying to recall what situation I wouldâve been in to have needed to be rescued. I came up blank. âI donât remember needing to be rescuedâŠâ
âItâs completely normal to be a little disoriented. Itâll come back to you.â The manâSteveâ says with a smile. Itâs a nice smile, but Iâm still too unsure to really appreciate it.
âOâKay⊠This is really weird. You seem nice and all, but I'm seriously confused as to how I got here and I feel like Iâve got a killer hangover but I know I didnât drink last night.â I groaned as a zing of pain shot through my head, and I squeezed my eyes closed again. âIn fact, I donât even remember getting to bed last night, but I had this awful dream about these⊠things. And I cut my handâ.â
I glanced down at my hand, which should have been completely fine if I had gone to bed like I thought I did. But instead, it was wrapped neatly with a bandage and gauze right where I had supposedly sliced it in my dream. And I wasnât in the clothes I was pretty sure I shouldâve been in. Instead, I wore a flimsy hospital gown.
I yanked the sheet up under my chin, staring at my bandaged hand. âMy hand is cut.â
âIt is. You cut it onâ.â
âA loose nail in a shop trying to get away from those things.â I finish, because thatâs what happened in my dream. But if he knew, and obviously my hand was cut, then it wasnât a dream.
âHoly fucking shit.â I mumble, running my uninjured hand through my hair and forgetting the sheet momentarily before yanking it back up.. âHoly shit! That was real? Those things tried to eat me!â
Steve raised his hands in a placating gesture, a grim look on his face. âYes, they were real, but you're safe here. I promise. I know my word isn't much since Iâm a stranger to you, but itâs all Iâve got to offer right now. You have a small concussion, probably from getting hit in the head in your house when they took you.â
I just stare at him wide eyed. I probably looked like a madwoman. But he was the one feeding my delusions.
Or we were both delusional.
Or maybe he wasnât real at all and Iâm just talking to myself in some random roomâ
âI can tell youâre seriously in your head right now. Iâll go get a doctor so they can give you a better understanding of what happened and your injuries.â Steveâs words interrupted my internal dilemma, yanking me back into supposed reality.
âWait! Wait, okay, so maybe what you're saying is true. My hand is obviously cut, so my dream was real and thoseâŠâ
âTheyâre Vampires. Thatâs what they were.â
Honest to God, I couldn't help but laugh. Hysterically. For five whole minutes.
âI really am going to go get the doctor nowâ.â
âYouâre telling me,â I finally managed to collect myself, wiping the tears and taking in big gulps of air, âthat I was attacked by vampires?â
Steve stares at me for a moment longer than comfortable as if he was debating if it was even worth continuing to try and explain to me before he answered slowly. âYes. They were vampires.â
âThatâs literally insane.â
I could tell poor Steve was losing his patience. âIt does sound far fetched, but there's a lot the general public isn't allowed to know.â
And then Iâm taking in what heâs wearing. Itâs a suit, but not a government type business suit. Like a military suit. Lots of straps and belts in deep navy and burgundy, and those heavy-duty looking boots.
There's a holstered handgun at his hip that nearly blends into the material of his pants. Just past that, leaning against the wall by the door, is a shield with colors to match his uniform.
And there's dried blood on parts of it.
Before I have the opportunity to lose my marbles and scream my head off like any normal person would do, heâs speaking again.
âI work for a division of the government thatâs been kept secret for a very long time. Itâs called SHIELD. My job, and the job of those who work in this department, is to protect the world from the knowledge and harm of supernatural and otherworldly forces. I know it sounds crazy, but itâs the truth. Very few civilians know about us.â Steve stands there with his hands on his hips and a tired look in his eyes. âIf you want, I can explain more after a doctor has a look at youâ.â
âCaptain Rogers,â A woman interrupts, her head peeked through the door, âThere's a situation on level 6.â
At that, Steveâs whole demeanor changed. His spine stiffened, and his hand rested on the sidearm at his hip. âIâll be right there.â
He turned back to me, blue eyes stern. âA doctor will be in to give you a check over and then we can talk about getting you back home. Donât give anyone any trouble while youâre here. Weâre trying to make sure youâre in good health.â
âButâ!â
And with that, he snagged the shield from the floor and slid out the door. It locked behind him with a solid click.
It was the furthest underground, secured by a vault door and mostly reserved for when we were interrogating supernatural individuals. Occasionally, it was used to keep Bucky contained when he had an episode.
Today, Bucky was confined to the 12â by 12â room for 24 hours. Standard protocol.
Still didn't sit well with me, but Buck insisted we stick to it.
âBuck?â I called as I slipped through the main vault door, listening to the heavy locks slide back into place before I tried to speak again. âBuck, Alice said you were having some problems?â
Alice, the kind young woman that monitored Buckyâs cell when things like this happened, had informed me he was acting strangely.
âBucky?â I tried again as I made it to the end of the row of cells, peering into the last one on the right.
My best friend sat with his back turned to me, hair disheveled and his neck glossy with sweat. His metal hand gripped the small trash bin that normally sat in the curtained off section of the cell.
âSorry, Steve.â He mumbled, his voice shaking, âI really donât know what happened back there.â
My shoulders lost some of their tension at his voice. At least he was talking.
Sometimes Bucky had episodes. They ranged mostly from mild symptoms of hunger; veins that wouldnât recede, dry mouth, quick temper. But sometimes⊠sometimes he got violent. It was mostly in the beginning when he first arrived back at SHIELD. Heâd black out, wouldnât remember bashing his fists into the cell or breaking anything he could. Sometimes heâd mutilate his shoulder where metal meets flesh. Sometimes he wouldnât talk at all and would stare at a wall for days refusing to eat.
It was painful to watch him recover in those first few years. Now, it was mostly small things. Just fragments of the Devil he used to be.
Today seemed different.
âIs the girl alright? I didnât⊠I didnât hurt her, did I?â Bucky was startlingly quiet as he asked it. As if he was so sure the answer would hurt him.
âShe's fine, Pal. She just woke up and doesn't really remember much. Not yet, anyways. Sheâs just disoriented.â I wish there was more reassurance to give him to take away that look in his eyes. That look of terror.
âThatâs good. Itâs good.â He mumbles to himself, nodding. âIâm glad I didnâtâ that nothing happened.â
I take a few steps to the side to better see him. Vampires couldnât walk in the sun, as most lore has stated, so their skin was normally paler than most. He used to be tan, used to walk in the sun and play catch with me back then.
Now, he was just like those that turned him.
His skin was terribly, awfully close to being translucent at the moment which was definitely not normal. Those veins, the ones that made themselves known when he caught the scent of blood, were writhing under his eyes. It wasnât uncommon to see that after one of his episodes, but his eyes were bloodshot and a concerning color.
âWhatâs going on with you, Pal?â I leaned against the glass, peering at him.
âI-I donât know. Itâs worse than normal. Somethingâsâ.â He didnât have enough time to finish his sentence before he yanked the trash can up and heaved into it.
I stared at him in shock, watching his body curl over the can as he wretched.
Vampires didn't get sick. Vampires didn't puke. Something was horribly, terribly wrong. âBucky, you need to eat. Now.â It was the only thing I could think of. If he got deficient, sometimes he got weaker. Maybe this was something like that.
Bucky coughed, spitting into the can and sucking in a couple breaths. âI canât.â
I frowned, shifting against the glass. âWhat do you mean you canât?â
The veins grew darker, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair to smooth it away from his face. âBanner left me a few bags of substitutes. I tried to drink them. Downed the first, and it came right back up.â He swallowed, licking his lips. âMy body feels like itâs on fire, Steve. I donât know what to do.â
There was a tremor of fear in his voice, and I felt it settle into my bones. âListen, weâre going to figure out whatâs going on. Maybe it was a bad batch of substitute. Iâll have Banner look into it, alright?â
I watched his dark hair swat as he nodded, and then heaved into the trash can again.
âIâll be back. Iâm going to talk to him now.â
I didnt wait for a response before I set a brusque pace toward the vault door and scanned my tag, slipping through and not waiting to hear it shut. Bannerâs lab was only a few floors up, but the elevator ride felt like years.
When I finally managed to make it to the lab, Banner was seated over a microscope. His head popped up when the glass door slid closed behind me. âCap?â
âWas the last substitute batch bad? Was there any difference between it and the stuff he had this afternoon?â I felt agitated, scared, even. What could be wrong?
Banner stood, already shaking his head. âN-no, there was no difference. It was from the same batch. Why? Whatâs wrong?â
I grit my teeth, looking at the walls for answers I knew they wouldnât have. âBucky canât eat any of it. His body is rejecting it.â
âWhat?â
âHeâs sitting in that cell hurling, Banner. He shouldnâtâ They canât get sick! I donât understand!â
âHey, woah, Iâm sure itâs something fixable. Maybe⊠maybe the batch was bad and itâs just a late response? Iâll check it out right now.â He hurried towards the fridges, and I began pacing.
I paced and paced, because what if it wasnât the substitutes? What if it wasnât something fixable? What if he was reverting back to⊠to what Iâd found him as?
I sunk into a nearby chair, pulling up SHIELD case files, and I began punching in anything that might bring me some answers.
Debating releasing an early chapter since I finished Fever Dream (part 2 of Brooklyn Devil series) but Iâll only put it out there if you guys really want it early. Otherwise Iâll just post it Saturday!
Summary: An undercover OP forces Bucky and Max into an interesting predicament. Wills are tested, and tension runs hot. Could this be what forces Bucky to face his feelings, or only serve to fuel the flames of their never ending feud?
Authorâs Note: A little something me and my bestie thought up for funzies. This has very little to do with the main storyline Iâve written for Bucky and Max so I wouldnât try and put it into a timeline or anything! Lmk if you want a part two! Thinking about making one.
Warnings: Adult themes, strip club, lap dances, suggestive content, Bucky being absolutely down bad, Sam being Sam (slightly annoying), cursing, canon violence, probably a lot more but thatâs the main stuff.
Word Count: 2,432
âThis is fucking stupid.â
Bucky sat in the muggy atmosphere of âEssenceâ, a strip club rumored to be frequented by their current target; Oliver Cade. Cade was a drug dealer and very well known in the sex trafficking ring. Recently, heâd made a suspiciously large amount of money very quickly. So, a select few Sword and Shield agents were put undercover to take him out.
Thatâs the only reason heâd ever find himself in a place like this. Missions took him to a plethora of unsavory places heâd rather never return to, and he was beginning to think this was crawling to the top of that list.
Maybe it was because of his age and the time period he grew up in, or maybe it was the fact that the scantily clad men and women of the club were just a little too lewd and unsavory for his taste. There was just no part of this scene that sparked what most people chased in a place like this.
âLanguage.â Sam snapped back, yanking Bucky back out of his head. The sass filtering through the comm tucked away in Buckyâs ear only fueled his irritation. âSteve wouldnât approve.â
Bucky clenched his jaw, âDonât say that. Youâre not Steve.â
âBut he would say that ifâ.â
But Sam didnât get to finish his retort before Bucky cut in again, âWhereâs Max? Didnât you say she would be here by now?â
Sam chuckled in his ear, âSheâs managed to impress the club owner and snagged herself a top spot as their main act. Means anyone wanting a private show will pay a pretty penny to have her, including our guy. Itâs perfect, really. Sheâs exactly what he goes for.â
Anger roiled in Buckyâs veins as Sam prattled on. He hated these types of missions. Not only were they unpleasant, but they made agents particularly vulnerable. Minimal clothing meant no way to hide a weapon, which is exactly why Bucky and a few other agents scattered throughout the club were carrying concealed weapons. They were the backup if things went south, but with the crowded room and the close proximity in which the dancers had to be with clients, it was practically guaranteed the undercover agent was in harm's way.
Max, fortunately, was a weapon in herself. That was one of the few reasons Bucky didnât feel like he was going to crawl out of his skin.
The other reason was the burning curiosity keeping him seated on the plush velvet booth encircling a dance poll. A poll that was currently being used by what looked like an airbrushed mermaid.
The Essence Club was known for its more extravagant and odd caterings. For instance, tonight was a themed night. The dancers were all dressed and done up to appear ethereal in some sort of way. Some were decked in bejeweled gowns and tiaras, others with their skin painted blues and greens to mimic nymphs of fairy tales.
A part of Bucky was looking forward to Maxâs performance, but the stronger part dreaded it. Why? He didnât want to face that particular answer.
Max and Bucky teetered on a fence of mild tolerance and outright warfare. Max was every bit the morally grey individual he was set out to put down, and yet he couldnât. Bucky respected her skill and grace in their field of work, and despite her questionable methods, she was efficient and her casualties were low.
Not to mention the fact that their pasts were interwoven in ways he couldnât yet decipher. The memories of a certain white-haired assassin were faded and muddled in his mind.
It made him uneasy. And so did the heat that always bloomed in his chest when she caught his eyes.
No, Bucky had decided he despised Max, but it was his job as her partner in this to make sure she made it out.
So, he begrudgingly remained in the stuffy club and nursed a glass of bourbon.
Seconds later, the lights shut off, and a spotlight illuminated the center stage. A rather gaudy individual bejeweled in a black and red dress addressed the club goers in a sultry smooth voice. âGood evening, and welcome to Essence where fantasies become realities. How is the crowd tonight?â
There was a chorus of hoots and shouts of excitement from everyone around Bucky, and he sunk a bit lower in his seat.
âHow lovely! Well, you're in for a treat tonight.â They quirked a brow, red painted lips tilted in a sly smile. âWe have been visited tonight by a special guest. A rarely met Fae of great beauty and even more alluring talent. A being capable of shapeshifting and illusion, a manipulator of minds and dreamsâŠâ
The crowd rumbled with curiosity, and Bucky himself sat up more as the introduction neared its end.
âI bring you,â a long pause followed their words, drawing out the anticipation, âSidhe.â
The spotlight fades, as does the crowd's murmurs as the curtains draw to reveal the silhouette of a woman.
A very scantily clad woman that definitely looked too familiar.
Bucky swallowed hard, trying and failing to tear his gaze from her as the spotlight enveloped her in a blue light.
Max looked like a goddess.
She was covered in what looked like sheer silver silks. The fabric wound around her body, accentuating every dip and curve of her as she walked. The ends of the silks whispered across the floor behind her heels, flowing across the floor like a silver stream of starlight. Bucky couldn't blink, couldnât breathe. Every inch of her was barely covered, barely withheld from the gazes of dozens of drunken men.
Barely withheld from him.
Bucky watched as she drew her hand up, her fingernails long like claws and painted a glossy opaque, and trailed them up her throat as her head fell back just as a thrumming music began.
And then she was moving. Not like heâd seen her do a million times on the battlefield, with her sharp clean precision and power. Not harsh and violent. No⊠no, the way her body moved now?
Bucky had never been so captivated.
Her claws wound into her wild white hair, tousling the short white locks as her hips swayed rhythmically, flowing with the music and drawing everyoneâs eyes to the way her body followed the beat.
Those blue eyes glinted under the lights, like the mirrored pupils of a predator stalking prey; flickering over each of her admirers. The sight would normally make people feel unsettled. To see such a strange quality on a human being in broad daylight. Here in this moment though, as she drew her hands down the lean muscles of her abdomen, it was nothing more than erotic.
Buckyâs pants grew tight, and he tore his eyes from her. He shouldnât be here. Maybe a high beam, or the back where he couldnât see her. Where he couldnât be tempted by her.
Because thatâs what he was. Tempted. And he was utterly terrified of the feeling.
Max had always been open with her attraction to him, he knew how she felt. He knew that heâdâ that the Winter Soldierâ had something with her. Something more.
And it was starting to bleed into his own feelings towards her.
But they were co-workers. Partners. He couldnât feel that way for her.
The soldier's attention was drawn back to the stage as Max dropped to the floor, the thin fabrics of her dress fluttering down around her. A few gasps were echoed, and several men leaned forward to check if she had fainted.
Bucky found himself leaning too. Glass forgotten and eyes searching, worry blooming in his gutâ
Those mirrored eyes were on him. Focused, purposeful, as the music grew more melodic and the base thumped louder. She ground her hips into the air, a smirk growing on her face as she trapped him within her gaze.
She wanted him watching.
âSheâs, uh, really playing her part.â Sam coughed into his ear, startling him enough he pressed his back harshly into the booth seat to put some distance between himself and the temptress in front of him.
Heâd forgotten they were on a mission. Shit.
Sam sounded off again, âOur target still isnât as interested as we need him to be. Sheâs gotta do something to get his attention.â
There was a pause as Sam patched Max into the comm line. âMax, you need to take it up a notch. Target still isn't chomping at the bit for you yet.â
Samâs sudden intrusion on comms didn't seem to interrupt Max at all, not a moment of hesitation interrupting her performance. In fact, the intrusion seemed to spur her even more.
Bucky watched with bated breath as her hips lifted up, up, up. The fabric of her dress pooled on the glossy black stage, slipping higher and higher on her legs to reveal those supple thighs. Her skin seemed to glow in the light, shimmering and soft. The sight betrayed the true power he knew her body possessed.
Max hooked her legs around the pole before him, her back arching as she lifted off the floor. The pole spun with her momentum, showcasing her dance like a doll in a display case.
Bucky was both enraptured with her, and utterly disgusted with himself for the vile thoughts that began tugging at his mind at the sight of her. Here, like this, he couldnât deny his attraction to her. The curves of her body, the spark in those glass eyesâŠ
Fuck.
She moved towards him, eyes locked on his, her body moving with fluid grace. Max looked every bit like an ethereal huntress as she dropped from the stage and prowled forward.
His eyes track her movements, the sway of her hips with each heeled step towards him. Bucky suddenly felt too hot, too constricted in his clothes under her haughty gaze.
And that was absolutely nothing compared to the blaze he felt when one of those opaque claws scraped its way teasingly from his knee to his thigh.
If there was a god, Bucky didn't know whether to praise it or curse it into oblivion.
Max leaned over, that finger settling just below his hip and tracing figure eights. âCare to be my partner for the night? I need your help making good ole Oliver jealous, and you're the only one in his direct line of sight.â
Her voice was sinfully soft and ever so sweet. With her fingernail tracing his leg, the heat of her body so close to his, her breath on his ear⊠God, how was he supposed to keep his head on straight?
A gruff âsureâ was all he managed to say. Too distracted by the suffocating heat rising under his skin.
Max smiled, the image every bit sinful, as she eased herself onto his lap. His hands withdrew from his legs, raised in the air just inches from where her weight settled against him, eyes wide and heart pounding.
This would be the end of him.
âCome on Buck, act like youâve seen a woman before.â Sam whispers into the comms, and it brings a sly smile to Maxâs face.
Her hands plant on the back of the booth, nails clacking against the crimson stained wood as she leans forward. Bucky could smell her perfume and the mint on her breath, a cocktail of something deep and rich. A drug a part of him begged to let consume him.
Max shifted her weight, her ass pressing into his thighs and her shoulders swaying to the thrum of music. Her chest heaved in his face; dampened with sweat and shimmering under the lights. It took every bit of his self control to tear his eyes away and pin them to the ceiling.
And then she laughed. Soft and teasing. A thumb brushed his chin, the drag of those nails behind his ear and the press of her palm against his cheek bringing him right back to her.
âTarget has some interest now.â Sam comments into the comms, but itâs barely a whisper over the thrum of Buckyâs heart and the heavy beats of the music.
Max leans forward, chest pressing into his own as her lips brush his ear. âLooking a little out of depth there, Soldier. Want me to do all the work?â
That lit a fuse in his brain, stirring his irritation. Irritation was good, distracting.
Except that she was poking at his dignity, and he was competitive at heart.
Before he could think it through, his hands were settling against her thighs and tugging her forward. It was a quick, smooth move that had her seated right over him and their faces inches apart. There was the slightest flicker of surprise in her eyes before a slow, satisfied smile settled onto her features.
Heâd done it now.
Max shifted her hips as the beat changed, grinding them downwards on his lap. Buckyâs breath shuttered, and he could feel his heart pounding with the rhythm of the music she danced to. Her eyes were on him, drinking him up, and he just knew that she caught every micro expression he was desperately trying to cover.
Those nails grazed his scalp as she cradled the back of his head, moving forwards to angle his face into her chest, and tilting her hips just a fractionâ
Stars exploded in his brain as she rubbed directly against him, pulling a groan from him.
âSomeoneâs worked up.â Her lips were brushing his ear again, his hands traveling up to grip her hips as she continued her torturous movements. âMakes for a good show.â
Frustrated, Bucky grit his teeth and held her eyes as he wove his metal fingers in her dress and pulled her down.
The delicate little sound she made nearly broke him.
But before he could short circuit and haul her somewhere private, Sam was in their ears. âTargets making a move. Looks like heâs heading towards the Owner with a wad of cash in hand. The plan worked.â
And then Max was moving off of him. She stood, smoothed over her dress, and turned to sway herself back to the stage as the men around whooped and whistled and begged for her attention.
Buckyâs chest heaved, dick aching as he watched her mount the pole again as another song started and began another dance.
Damn the mission, damn that stupid punk-ass target, damn it all.
He wanted to make her pay.
And heâd get his revenge by the end of this one way or another.
please write a sam winchester and or jacob black smut!! (seperate tho)
size kink, praise, and worshipping at least for both pls ty!!
Immediately adding this to the list! It makes me so happy seeing asks!!! Especially for Jacob, Iâm about to binge watch the movies again so hopefully I get some inspo! As for the Sam Winchester, I gotta get back into the series to get a feel for his character. Iâm elated to write for both though! Thanks for the ask!!!
I just finished watching Thunderbolts* and why didnât any of you tell me there was a REAL GHOST CHARACTER ALREADY??? I HAD NO IDEA, I HAVENT SEEN ANTMAN AND THE WASP YALL
God this just ruined so many months of meticulous meltdowns and floor times. So many rough drafts need to be rewritten. WHYYYY????
I know I said Saturday was post day but Iâm trying to whip up one of my greatest works and I needed to push back the deadline yâall. Max and Bucky needed time to COOK.
Hey! Iâm happy to say Iâm back from my Hiatus! Iâll be updating semi-regularly on Fridays-Saturdays. Iâll work on the current series I have posted, as well as the requests I received from the prompts post! Thank you for your support and patience!
Whatâs up homeslices, itâs update time. Iâve been rotating several fics (requests and series both) and Iâm facing major writers block. As most of you have noticed, I do not have an update schedule (Iâm too impatient when I have something to get out, and I also have zero time to write that much and stockpile works) but I want to try. Iâll be taking Hiatus for a bit to do so, but I WILL return with more for you all to read. I am grateful to each and every one of you for taking time to read my work, and I hope to see you again once I return.
With all the love in the universe,
Until next time.
âAyden
P.s. Lmao that was so dramatic Iâll be back in a few months. đ«¶đ»
Summary: Returning to a Coven was the last thing Bucky wanted to do. Especially a young one. But when duty calls, and heâs sent out to help eradicate it, he has no choice but to power through the sent of blood and desire to consume even when the sweetest temptation appears to be just within his reachâŠ
âAny luck?â Steve entered the compound, his uniform freshly pressed and boots shined.
Doctor Banner shook his head with a sigh, âNone, like always. And I think with the way heâs been acting, Barnes isnât going to be able to rely on the blood substitutes for much longer. Maybe a month or two.â
Steve blew out a frustrated breath. âGreat⊠we'll have to figure something out soon then. SHIELD wonât keep him around if he becomes more of a danger than an advantage.â
SHIELD was a secret underground government agency sworn to protect the world from supernatural forces and outstanding threats. Steve and his best pal Bucky Barnes, being two of the oldest and most elite agents, had been used as experimental super soldiers during the 40s. He and his best friend, had been on a mission to eradicate a coven of vampires when Sergeant Barnes had been severely injured and turned. Steve had somehow managed to escape only to crash land while flying through fighter jet territory. Heâd been lost in the war, having frozen in the ocean for years, only to have been recovered and more than willing to continue his service to the agency.
A few years after his return to the Agency, Steve had discovered that his best pal was still alive and wreaking havoc on a small town just outside of Brooklyn, New York. He set out to hunt him down, but instead of killing Bucky, he managed to break through his bloodlust and convince him to come back to the agency so that Steve could sort something out.
Steve wouldnât kill him, he couldnât do such a thing.
So, after months of negotiations and tests to even see if it was possible to control Buckyâs vampiric nature, they had come to the conclusion that Steve would become Buckyâs handler. He would be in charge of execution if Bucky was to go AWOL. He would also be in charge of managing Buckyâs dietary needs and escorting him on missions and lab tests.
Basically, he was Buckyâs designated babysitter and coworker in one.
It had been several years since their return and Buckyâs recovery. Heâd lost an arm the night he was turned, and SHIELD had given him an advanced prosthetic and a fresh start. Bucky had trained endlessly to control his thirst for blood. Exposing himself to it, fasting to ensure he could handle the extended periods with no food if needed. Banner had even created a substitute so he wouldnât have to feel the guilt of carrying around blood bags. Heâd been doing well for years, but Doctor Banner had discovered his treatments with blood substitutes were a temporary fix.
Which meant that eventually, Bucky would either relapse or heâd need a Donor. And those werenât exactly easy to find, or tolerated under SHIELD law.
And SHIELD would much rather kill him than give him any options.
Steve pressed his fingers into his brows, taking another deep breath of frustration. âHeâs not going to like this.â
Banner shook his head, âNo, heâs really not.â
âNot going to like what?â Buckyâs voice reached them as the glass door opened and shut behind him.
Steve straightened, plastering on a smile. âThat weâve got a mission tonight. 20:00, vampire coven.â
Buckyâs dark brows dropped into a frown, his lips pursing. âYeah, definitely not a fan.â
âItâs a newer nest, so it shouldnât have any older or even mature vampires yet.
Shouldnât be an issue.â Steve knew that Bucky always got a little anxious when they took on vampire covens because of his turning.
That, and they always had blood around. Bucky was significantly more controlled in his actions when it came to blood. Not like when Steve had found him in Brooklyn covered in his latest victimsâ blood with wild hungry eyes.
Now, when blood was near, he managed to keep his reaction minimized down to just the black veins under his eyes. It had taken years of practice and effort, but he had managed it. That alone was the only reason keeping him alive under SHIELDâs watchful eyes.
Banner cleared his throat, âYour provisions for dinner are in the fridge, Sergeant.â
Bucky gave Dr. Banner a flat smile. âThank you. I appreciate it.â He really did, it was just that Bucky despised being what he was. Needing what he did. He missed being human.
Now, he was viewed as a bloodthirsty monster. He supposed he once was, and those memories burned him every time he thought of that time.
Bucky went over to the fridge and discreetly stuffed the blood substitutes into one of the various pockets on his utility belt and gave Steve a nod, âGonna stock the weapons and check the jet inventory for the mission.â
Steve nodded, âAlright, Buck. See you soon.â
With that, Bucky quickly exited the lab.
Steve signed, turning back to Banner. âIncrease the substitute stock. If what you say is true, heâll need more than normal until we come up with another option. Get another order on those scent blockers too.â
âSure thing, Cap.â Banner went back to his computer and Steve headed out the doors.
Steve had this gut feeling that life was going to get way more complicated soon.
âââââ
The stealth jet touched down just outside of the mission red zone, and Bucky and Steve finalized their plans for infiltration.
âAlright, so youâll go in the west entrance and take out the guards. They wonât put up much of a fight, covenâs not that big.â Steve pointed to the blueprints of the old warehouse as he spoke, popping a scent neutralizer into his mouth.
Bucky nodded, strapping the muzzle cover he was required to wear outside the compound onto his face as he listened. They would more than likely have victims in the building. Being a young coven, they were more bloodthirsty and less likely to keep hostages because of their lack of control. That meant it would be a bloodbath, and it put Bucky on edge. He could smell the faint scent of blood in the air even from inside the jet.
The familiar telltale feeling of the veins crawling under his eyes washed over him. The black veins rushed under the skin and reddened his vision just the slightest. There was lots of blood outside.
âGonna be good, Buck?â
Steveâs question drew his gaze, and Bucky nodded silently. âYeah, Iâm good.â
âAlright,â a few clips and zips later, and Steve was geared up and ready to go. âLetâs get this taken care of.â
Bucky followed him out and onto the dampened grass. Fog hovered just over the ground and plumed up into the air, clouding their vision a good six feet in front of them. With his heightened senses, Bucky could see further and more clearly than Steve, but the fog was thick enough that even he had issues.
âKeep right,â Bucky mumbled, voice muffled slightly from his mask, âThe warehouse is that way. I can smell it.â
And God was it horrid.
The scent of blood assaulted his senses, bombarding him with its intensity and making his fangs ache. It was everywhere. He couldnât see it, but its stench lingered heavily on the grass where it had seeped into the dirt.
He had to clench his jaw to keep the rumble of hunger from clawing up his throat. Bucky hated that his body craved blood, hated that he needed it to live. He detested everything that he was, but he couldnât deny the effects the sweet scent had on him.
âItâs everywhere, Steve.â Bucky swallowed hard, his vision deepening in its burgundy haze. âItâs all around us, all over the place. The amount of it⊠there has to be multiple bodies.â
Steve, whoâd been carefully creeping forward through the fog, stopped to observe his partner. âCan you tell if any of the victims are alive?â
With furrowed brows, Bucky tried to push his mind past the scent of blood and find somethingâ anythingâ that would indicate that someone had survived this. His eyes fell closed as he willed his senses to extend, searchingâŠ
A heartbeat pounded from somewhere beyond the metal walls. Strong, hard, and panicked.
Alive.
Buckyâs eyes snapped open, black veins crawling further towards his eyes. âOne. There's one still in there.â
Steveâs expression hardened and he nodded curtly. âRescuing is the priority now. We get them out, and then we wipe these guys out.â
With a nod, Bucky turned his attention back to the warehouse. The scent of blood drew him like a moth to a flame, and he followed it willingly. The stronger it got, the more his mouth watered and the harder it got to contain himself.
But he would. He always did.
With every step, the aroma of it all grew stronger and the thundering heart inside grew more erratic. Fear seeped into the air, twisting itself with the sweetness of blood. But fear was prominent, and the bitterness of it turned Buckyâs stomach.
The soldier rounded the corner, his gun loaded with UV rounds and aimed at the only exit on his side of the building. Blood was painted on the side of the building in spatters, some of it dry while some of it still remained wet and glossy in the dim light of the moon. The door was cracked, and his ears picking up the faintest sounds of fast footsteps and growls of hunger. The disgusting sounds of blood being consumed.
Sounds of impending death.
With a shallow breath, he swallowed thickly and breached the door. With his heightened senses, he guided himself through the dark halls devoid of light. Every turn he took strengthened the scent of blood, nearly enough to make his knees weak.
God did it make him hungry.
Bucky could feel the veins under his eyes writhing, his vision growing more and more shrouded in red. Still, he moved forward, intent on completing the mission at hand. He wouldnât break, he wouldnât give in, he wouldnâtâ
His body stilled, muscles locking in place. Buckyâs jaw slackened as his eyes widened, pupils blowing wide to better see as they scoured the darkness.
For whatever possessed that scent.
For whomever smelled so painstakingly delicious that it nearly brought him to his knees.
Hunger reared its ugly head inside of him as it perfumed the air, at each breath he dragged deep into his lungs like a man drowning and they were the last breaths of air heâd ever get. Steve radioed in his ear, but Bucky couldnât hear it through the ringing that drowned him out. Ringing that silenced everything but that thumping heartbeat on the other side of the wall.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
Like a beast on a warpath, Bucky clawed at the locked door with his metal hand. His fingers dragging deep scores into the frail wood as he reached for the lock. With a jerk of his hand, the lock crumbled in his grasp, and his boot dislodged the hinges from the force of his kick.
Bucky tore into the room with his gun already trained on the closest target. A squeeze later, and the vampire is writhing on the floor. Blue rivulets of light drip from its mouth as it screams, the poison from the bullet doing the dirty work as it burns through its system. It would be dead in minutes. The next two bullets find their homes in two more, and they join the corpse on the floor.
His teeth ached from the force of clenching his jaw, grounding him in the haze of barely contained bloodlust. The aroma in the air was driving him closer and closer to madness, tempting him in ways he hadnât felt in many, many years.
Perhaps he had yet to feel such intensity ever.
Something inside of himself was drawn by it. Pushed to seek it out in the bloodied room like a hound on a trail. Killing the targets had quickly become just a means to finding it.
Steve was still droning in his ear, his voice a thousand miles away behind the ringing and screams of the felled bloodsuckers. Bucky couldnât find it in himself to be concerned he couldnât hear his friend, too caught up in the moment as a vampire gouged a hole in his vest. He made quick work of it, metal hand reaching back and clamping down on its throat before squeezing until he felt the crunch between his fingers. Another bullet sunk into its heart to ensure it didn't come back.
A few more rounds to those of the coven that tried to flea, and the room was empty save for himself and the thundering sound of that beating heart.
The rhythm sang to him, a siren in the darkness that he drudged towards. Buckyâs hands shook with adrenaline and he was sure he looked every bit of the beast he felt himself to be in that moment. He could feel his carefully crafted restraint snapping with each step, each inhalation of that ambrosial scent.
He'd never wanted something so badly in all the years heâd been alive.
Turningthe corner, wide shoulders filling the too-small door frame, he heard a soft whimper. It bounced off the metal walls as did the scuffling of limbs shoving across the dirt floor.
Heâd found it.
And it was a her.
She was pale, and Bucky couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or lack of light. Her hair was dark and caked in mud and debris, too dirty to see what truly lay beneath it all.
She was beautiful nonetheless. Absolutely captivating. And afraid.
Her fear bored down on him with each breath, putrid to his sensitive nose even woven in with the sweetness of her. Bucky was sure that it was the only thing keeping that final thread of control within his grasp. He didnât want to harm her. It was his job to help her, to rescue her.
âHey, youâreââ He swallowed thickly, breathing shakily as a wave of hunger washed through him. âItâs alright now.â
Bucky felt the veins under his eyes surge only seconds before she screamed.
He winced, the volume of it enhanced by the walls and confined space. With his hands raised he knelt in front of her, placating. âIâm here to help. Please, justââ
âGet away from me!â She kicked out, dirt spraying his shins as she pressed more into the corner.
He had to get her out. For her own safety, and to get some goddamned distance from her intoxicating scent before it drove him any closer to losing it.
âJust stay still, Iâm going to get you out of the building.â Bucky tried to reach for her again, doing his best to ensure his body language remained as unthreatening as possible.
She wasnât having it.
As soon as he got close enough, she kicked him in the chest, smearing mud on his Kevlar vest. Her arms flew out to shove at his shoulders, uselessly clawing at the material in an attempt to deter him. He hardly moved a centimeter, and her desperation only increased.
She grabbed at the walls, trying to press herself further from him. Her hand mustâve gotten cut on a loose nail or a rough edge, because the next time it flew up to bombard him with shoves and scratching fingers, Bucky was overwhelmed by the potent scent of blood.
And then he felt it smear his face as her shove glanced off his shoulder pad. Felt it warm his cold skin, blanketing his senses entirely. All he could smell was her, all he could feel was that smear of delicate warmth. All he could hear was the pounding of her heart in his ears as it pumped lifeblood through her body. He could only see her within the red haze clouding his peripheral vision, the sole source of his every desire.
Then he tasted it.
For a moment, time slowed. He could feel his body lock up, his mind numbing as the flavor of her passed over his tongue.
Never in his long life had he ever tasted something so divine.
He groaned, unable to resist the urge to lick the drop that had managed to slip past his mask. Lapping it up like a starved dog.
Buckyâs chest heaved, eyes locked on the poor girl in front of him as the hunger swept through him like a hurricane. His fingers clawed at the mask in an attempt to dislodge it as he stumbled towards her with a growl.
In the back of his mind, Bucky was screaming at himself to stop. He didnât want this. Heâd never wanted to end up like this again; utterly trapped in the bloodlust. But his body betrayed him, drowning in the need for her.
âBuck!â He hardly heard Steveâs bellow over the thundering of the girl's heart before the cuffs of his uniform magnetized. They slammed his wrists together and forced them against his chest as a bolt of electricity was sent skittering over his body.
Confined, he snarled towards the girl. Steveâs heavy arms locked around his head and a vibranium needle was plunged into his neck.
Sedation. Thatâs what the protocol was. It was either that, or death for him.
The sedative slugged through him, clearing his vision of the red haze and loosening his muscles. Buckyâs vision grew muddled as his body numbed, the hunger dulled to the ache in his fangs.
His eyes found the girl once more, regret washing over him at the fear on her lovely face. Heâd never forget that look. Utterly terrified.
And it was the last thing he saw before he succumbed to sleep.
Authorâs Note: Recently watched the first two movies with my roommate and I forgot how dumb Bella was for not choosing Jacob. This is for her and for me. Jacob is also 18 in this.
Summary: Haunted by the memory of her parents strange death at a young age, Olivia Weathers is thrown into the foster care system. She moved from Forks at the age of 8, and hadnât looked back since. But when her therapist recommends going back to her hometown for her senior year of high school, Livy is thrown into a whole new set of problems she wasnât expecting. Suspicions are confirmed and even more mysteries come to light.
Warnings: This story contains angst, it does NOT contain any mentions of that ugly ass CGI baby, and there will be lots of drama and violence accurate to the movies.
