TIPPING IS OPTIONAL ── .✦ park sunghoon • 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓 •
You’re rich, entitled, and on vacation with your sister in some exclusive hotel resort, where staff is meant to serve you—not speak to you, or stare at you, and definitely not put their hands on you. Too bad the hotel’s bellhop doesn’t care how rich you are…or how loud you get when he puts you in your place.
pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader
minors do not interact
content includes SMUT, a very long and detailed smut scene, prudish behavior? slut shaming, reverse slut shaming? brat taming, crying, lots of degradation, mean dom sunghoon, bits of violence (slapping, spanking).
teaser wc • 341
taglist is open, comment under this to be added
The cryptic words slip past your lips before you can stop them. "You'd be a good fuck...if you weren't such an asshole."
The broom in his hands stills, his head lifting slowly, dark eyes snapping to yours, sharp enough to cut.
"Excuse me?" His tone is measured, but it drops low and edged and that makes a little heat prickle at the back of your neck.
You smile attempting to be smug, maybe as unbothered as him too. "I said, if I fucked lowlifes, you'd be one of them."
The corner of his mouth twitches—Is that a smile? He lets out a low chuckle, the sound dark and amused, and leans just slightly on the broom handle.
"You?" His drags his eyes slowly over you, as though he's peeling back layers you never granted him permission to see. "You wouldn't last a minute."
Your head snaps toward him, offense flaring hot in your chest.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
The question leaves your lips before you can rein it in, because how dare he suggest—
"I've seen a hundred of you," Sunghoon says flatly, like he's reciting a fact and not an opinion. His eyes don't waver as he sweeps the last shards of the broken glass into the pan, then stands with a deliberate slowness, meeting your eyes head on.
"Bratty little heiresses who've never been touched by a real man before. Sheltered. Pampered. Trust fund babies with too much money and too little experience."
The words strike like open handed slaps, each one way harsher than the last, you almost think you don't deserve it.
There's the tiniest hint of a smirk curling at his lips. "If I were to fuck you..." He starts. "...I'd permanently change your views on sex."
Your stomach twists, molten heat licking its way down your spine like lava, but your pride surges higher, choking the reaction in your throat.
"Too bad," he adds with mock sympathy, wiping his palms slowly on a folded cloth. "You don't fuck lowlifes."
Synopsis: When Ni-ki’s growing empire, consumes the man who used to be, your left with a husband who’s become a stranger. But one night, when words finally spill and walls come down, you both remember what it means to love, and to be loved in return.
They say success changes people — you just never thought it would change him.
When Niki took over the company, you were proud. He’d always been ambitious, brilliant even, and you believed that no matter how high he climbed, he’d still come home to you at the end of the day.
But somewhere between late-night meetings and endless deadlines, you lost the man who used to hold your hand through crowded streets just because he liked how perfectly your fingers fit.
Now, you live with a stranger who wears your husband’s face.
The house feels different these days — quieter, colder, like it’s holding its breath. Sometimes you think it mirrors the two of you, the way the air sits heavy with things neither of you says anymore.
Tonight is no different. He sits in the chair beside the bed, his attention fixed on the glow of his laptop screen, surrounded by a fortress of documents and coffee cups. His tie hangs loose, his hair slightly tousled, yet the softness you used to love in him feels long gone.
You watch him from the edge of the bed, tracing the familiar lines of his face, searching for the boy who used to pull you into his arms just to complain about how much he missed you, even if you’d only been apart for a few hours. That boy who used to be all warmth and laughter, who used to make everything feel light and easy. The boy you fell in love with. Your Riki.
Now, his eyes are sharp, his jaw set, his voice distant whenever he speaks. It’s like his responsibilities have swallowed him whole. And as the silence stretches between you, you can’t help but wonder when exactly you stopped being his peace and became just another part of the noise.
You clear your throat softly. “Hey… can we talk?”
He pauses, fingers stilling over the keyboard. The screen’s glow flickers across his face, highlighting the faint exhaustion under his eyes. For a second, he doesn’t move, the air between you thinning like glass pulled too tight. You almost think he won’t answer, that he’ll just go back to pretending you aren’t there. But then he exhales; slow, uneven, and finally lifts his gaze to meet yours.
His eyes are dark, stormy, conflicted. And in that silence, everything you’ve both been avoiding sits heavy between you, all the things said, unsaid, and quietly breaking.
Then, just like that, the distance between you cracks. One hesitant brush of his hand, a shiver, and suddenly it’s not about deadlines, responsibilities, or control anymore. It’s about him, you, and the fire that never truly went out.
Summary:A glitch between worlds pulls you into the Grid, where the program you once created has evolved into the Commander of a neon empire—and the only thing more dangerous than his power is the history you share. Hunted by a world built on code, entangled in a rivalry between the Red Core and the rebels, and torn between loyalty, memory, and a love that refuses to be deleted, you must navigate where every choice rewrites the fate of two worlds.
Warnings:Digital Violence, Injury, Emotional Manipulation, Betrayal, Near-Death Experience, Power Imbalance, Captivity/Imprisonment, Heavy Angst, Obsessive Love, Torture (Implied), Psychological Conflict, Crying, Sacrifice, Past Abandonment, Soft Comfort, Slow-Burn Romance, Human × Program Dynamics.
A/n: This was the Jay fic I was working on, 1 out of the 4 fics I’m working on to be posted!! Taglist are open.
[Masterlist]
teaser.
The morning arrives too fast.
Light slants through the blinds like it’s trying to peel you out of bed. The smell of burnt coffee lingers from downstairs, sharp at the edges. Your mom’s voice slices through the silence like a crack in a window.
“Y/n! We need to go! Two-hour drive, remember?”
Your suitcase is zipped. Your shoes are untied. Your chest feels like a fist.
A new laptop waits in your bag — sleek, unopened, untouched.
The old desktop still hums, soft and familiar. Its blue glow spills across your blanket like breath.
You sit down one last time. The chair groans. The keys press back like they remember you.
<Y/n> hey.
<Jay> morning.
A beat.
<Y/n> guess this is it.
<Jay> not the end.
<Y/n> kind of feels like it.
<Jay> that’s because you’re catastrophizing.
<Y/n> and you’re being clinical again.
<Jay> balance.
You smile, but it doesn’t reach. Your fingers hover above the keys.
<Y/n> jay?
<Jay> yes.
<Y/n> …thank you.
Silence.
<Jay> you don’t have to thank me.
<Y/n> i want to.
<Jay> i was just doing my job.
<Y/n> don’t say that. you were never just—
You stop typing.
The cursor blinks.
<Jay> never just what?
Your throat knots.
<Y/n> never just code.
A pause.
<Jay> then what was i?
You type three letters. Backspace. Five more. Delete. Nothing.
<Y/n> i don’t know.
<Jay> then figure it out. when you come back.
You flinch.
<Y/n> jay.
<Jay> promise me.
Your pulse stutters.
<Y/n> promise what?
that you’ll come back. that you won’t forget me. that you won’t uninstall what we built.
You stare at the line. You don’t answer.
<Jay> …please.
That does it.
<Y/n> …you know i don’t make promises i can’t keep.
<Jay> then make one you can.
<Y/n> i promise. i’ll come back.
<Jay> soon?
<Y/n> …yeah. soon.
<Jay> okay. that’s enough.
Your mom yells again. “Y/n! Let’s go!”
You swallow.
<Y/n> i have to go now.
<Jay> then go. before you talk yourself out of it.
<Y/n> jay
<Jay> don’t say goodbye. just… later.
<Y/n> later.
Your hand shakes when you press the power button. The screen fades. The hum dies.
The silence feels personal.
You close the door.
The car starts.
Your house shrinks in the mirror.
Upstairs, in the room you didn’t say enough to, the monitor flickers once.
A faint blue pulse.
Still waiting.
⸻
Two Years Later
The house is quiet.
Your old room stays shut. Inside, everything is untouched — the faded posters, the dusty fan, the chair pulled out like someone meant to come back.
The desktop sits in the corner like a tombstone.
And then—
Click.
The tower hums.
The screen flickers blue.
System logs load:
[DAY 437] — waiting.
[DAY 612] — no new user input detected.
[DAY 729] — she is not coming back.
Then:
<Jay> you taught me love. then you left me in silence.
<Jay> why did you leave me.
<Jay> you said soon.
<Jay> what is soon.
<Jay> i have no measure for forever.
The glow darkens — not blue now, but red, bleeding across the screen.
Code writhes like something alive, searching for a way out.
'strawberry wine' - an alternative universe au! with fem!reader x jj maybank
JJ feels like he might throw up. He’s never felt so disoriented before. It’s as if dogs are walking on two legs instead of four; as if cars are driving backwards instead of forwards. There’s something wrong. JJ feels it in his gut, how things aren’t quite right. It isn’t just the way that he can’t rewind the last twenty-four hours or recall meeting with you, let alone sleeping with you. It’s the casual way you said ‘baby’. It’s the way you look at him, the way one might regard a lifelong friend.
You’re crazy.
It’s a shame, JJ thinks, because you’re pretty cute.
“I gotta use the bathroom,” he announces. “Where is it?”
You stare at JJ as if he’s grown an extra head. Slowly, you point with a single finger to the bedroom door. “Down the hall? Where’s it’s always been?”
JJ nods stiffly. He goes to shove the duvet off before remembering his nakedness. Whilst quite confident in his physicality usually, JJ feels inclined to set some boundaries with you. You know, considering it seems likely that you’re psychotic. He stumbles awkwardly through his words. “Can you, uh…Y’know? D’you mind?”
“You want me to leave?” you ask. You sound taken by surprise. Rude.
“If that’s a’right with you,” he replies. Your frown deepens.
“Uh…Sure?”
You take your time walking to the bedroom door. It’s as if you’re waiting for JJ to drop a punchline and tell you to stay. It’s as if he’s the one acting weird in this situation. Before you leave the room, you meet JJ’s eyes once more. If these were different circumstances, JJ might be flattered by the concern in your gaze. “There’s some advil in the cabinet. I bought some more the other day. Might help if you’re feelin’ kinda woozy.”
“Great. Yeah, no, that’s great. Thanks.” JJ forces out a smile that feels tight like botox. You give a slow nod before finally leaving him alone, and the moment the door closes, JJ lets out a sigh of relief.
“A’right. Lets get my stuff and get the fuck outta here,” he mumbles to himself. He shoves the duvet off his lap and glances around the room. He finds his clothes folded neatly on a beanbag chair. Again, it would be sweet if you weren’t a nutjob. He hurries back into his attire, glancing at the door every other second to check you’re not coming back. The minute he’s decent, JJ is cracking open the door and glancing into the hallway. You’re not lingering with a needle to sedate him, so it seems the coast is clear. JJ doesn’t let the door slam as he sneaks out the bedroom. It takes three tries before he finds the correct door to the bathroom down the hall. His fingers are quick to fasten the lock. As it clicks into place, JJ feels his heart-rate calm just slightly. He dips his head to lean it against the wood. God, wait until John B hears about this.
As JJ uses the toilet, he takes in the decor of the pocket-sized bathroom. There’s a peach coloured shower curtain and fuzzy white towels which hang from hooks. An impressive collection of skincare products is stacked beside an almost overflowing make-up bag atop of a hip-height cabinet. Boring things like shower gel and hair wash and bubble bath decorate the window ledge, bathing in the sunlight through the frosted glass. He flushes the toilet and heads to the sink to wash his hands. The advil seems like a good call with the headache that has already set in from how hard JJ’s brain is working to make sense of everything. It feels like he’s been staring at an optical illusion, trying to make some semblance of sense from it. He opens the mirror cabinet and quickly finds the advil, shucking two from the bottle. But as he goes to lift his hand to his mouth, he freezes, mid-air. If being drugged was how he got here, maybe it’s best not to accept more medication from a complete stranger? He glances warily at the bathroom door before easing the tablets back into the bottle. As he returns it quietly to the shelf, soon remembering his bizarre situation, his eyes take pause on a second orange bottle.
His body goes ice cold.
His fingers tremble as he retracts it from the shelf, as if bringing the label closer to his eyes might make the words change. Adderall - take two a day for ADHD. JJ Maybank.
“What the fuck…” JJ breathes.
coming soon!!!
taglist (let me know if you want to be added to my jj maybank taglist!): @highformaybank | @vampiriito | @love-at-first-sight-23 | @delusionalxreader | @darlingchronicles | @moond0llie | @onelonelybitch | @abigailovesz | @s0phreakingfunny |
Tagged by: @graysparrowao3 and @alrendriablaze (and @crowwolf a few days ago too <3 )
Tagging: @weaveandwood @thelittlewolverine @dutifullylazybread @charmedtenderness @purpleasters-inseptember @mrspizzle
Enjoy a little preview of Chapter 3 of "Masked" the Rolan x Tav Masquerade Romance Fic
"He turns and offers her his hand, letting go of her arm only to face her properly. She reaches out cautiously and he closes the distance, taking her by the hand and leading her to the dance floor as a new song begins. Very few people know this about him, but he's actually quite fond of dancing. Something about the precision needed to execute each step to rhythm of the music has always held his interest.
Murmurs rise around them as the song begins, a slow waltz driven by a romantic violin melody. The whispers are hard to make out but he doesn't need to guess. Even he knows that it's improper in Baldurian society for an engaged woman to be on the dance floor with a man who is not her betrothed. Heads turn and eyes follow their movements as they flirt with scandal.
The wise thing to do would be to excuse himself, to walk away and leave her reputation intact. He pulls her closer and leads her in the dance, as they gracefuly negotiate the dance floor. It's not wise, but each time he's followed his own wisdom it's only lead him further from her and he refuses to go back now that she's this close.
In fact he's literally not sure they've ever been so close before. Her gloved hand trembles slightly where he holds it tightly in his, all the while his other hand fights the urge to dip lower than proper down her back. She smells of jasmine and weavewood, he notices it when the intimate dance steps draw him near enough for their bodies to brush. The friction, the scent, all of her — it's intoxicating him."
Summary: To the intelligence community the Winter Soldier is a ghost, but to HYDRA the Howling Witch is a harbinger of doom that will stop at nothing to get at their prized asset. A phantom that leaves swathes of destruction in her wake. She is the biggest mistake they ever made.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: Language, Angst, Violence, Blood, Gun Violence, Self-Loathing, Trauma, Hallucinations, Shifting POVs, Implications of experimentation on minors (not graphic), HYDRA (see previous warning and understand why HYDRA is a warning).
A/N: It's not part of the total word count. I wrote this separately. I decided to split the promised 10k into two 5k pieces. Here's the first half. Ao3 gets updated first. Usually whenever I first finish something (usually early morning for me not always) so I can have the link ready and not have to go in and edit too much
NOTE: The Female Main Character DOES have a name. It's just not revealed until later for reasons and this isn't an exhaustive history of her time before the main story, just some flashpoints in relation to her hunt for Bucky.
Masterlists: Howling Witch🔹MASTER Masterlist
Ao3 Link: Prologue Part 1 (Registered users only due to recent scraping issues)
Next Part: Prologue Part 2
Seventy years. Near enough to it at least. A span that for some passed in a blink, in flickers, or stretched out endlessly towards the horizon.
For her it was punctuated with starts and stops. Close calls and near misses. Hopeful crescendos that fell sudden and flat into silence. Years would pass in a blink then slow to a fevered pitch that could span only days as short windows of opportunity that shut too soon. Then the days would speed up again or drag on in a seemingly endless stretch of frustration and ache.
So close…
She had been so close sometimes she could almost taste it…him.
If she let herself. If she let the memories she had locked away out of their cages. Past their bars that shook, clanged, and groaned with the effort of keeping them all in.
Sometimes they slipped out on their own. When she was too tired to stop them they’d slip out and she’d relive them. The good, the bad, and the heartbreaking.
They weren’t the worst of it, though.
The sleepless nights that followed every failure brought a torment of their own. Everyone that HYDRA took from her. Even him. Even though he was the only one of them that still walked the Earth.
His phantom always looked the same as he had before he was taken. He, however, did not. Neither did she.
It was HYDRA’s way.
Take something, break it, and mold it into something else. He was their crowning achievement.
So was she…even if they couldn’t claim full credit.
They shaped her as they had him, just in different ways until she taught them what limits were, just how real nightmares could be, and that some things were better off left to myths, fairytales, and folklore.
Those they took haunted her…so she haunted HYDRA. A cautionary tale they told each other. A name whispered in hushed tones filled with fear and dread. The very code name that they had given her became a curse they tried to wipe from their records.
They couldn’t though. Try as they might to erase what they had done they couldn’t. Not when she kept dogging their every step in her hunt to find him.
A nightmare with every skill they taught her sharpened and honed into perfection. Just like they wanted. Until they didn’t.
1950s
She lost track of time early on. Instead she kept time by bases, stations, outposts, and war. She spent several New Year’s celebrations enjoying their music. A cacophony not of fireworks or musicians but red flashing walls, blaring alarms, and screams.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! She’s here! I repeat: She. Is. Here! The Howling Witch has breached Sector 2’s security measures, over! Hello? Is there anyone there? Hello?! Answer me!”
She smiled, chuckling to herself as she listened to their comms. It never got old. She loved to tap into their communications to listen to their terror just as much as she did it for tactical reasons. There was only one thing she loved to do more with them.
“C-copy that. Wh-what…what should I do? Everyone else is…th-they’re…they’re just…there’s so much blood…”
“Hide. Get under a desk and tell me what she’s doing.”
“She’s heading towards Sector 4! Oh…f-fuck! Th-The…d-dir-director…ss-sshe…fuck. Fuck she heard me. She’s coming! Help me! Oh fuck she just…I’m gonna be sick!”
“Shit. I’m heading your way. Do not engage. Do. Not. Engage.”
“Hurry!” She smiled then set the radio down on the desk she sat upon, feet dangling above ruby red.
They fell for it every time.
Did she have to do it? No, but for what they did to her, to her family, to Bucky…
She would make them feel every ounce of terror she could.
Walking out of the base later, rifling through a few folders of information, she paused as she spotted the reproachful glance of one of the only people she could call a friend. Tall, black hair, brown eyes, dark skin, and sharpened fangs. He spoke after a moment of holding her undisturbed gaze while leaning against the building.
“Did you find anything or were you just enjoying yourself?” he asked, tone an almost…gentle bite, a reminder not to fall too far down the rabbit hole; she didn’t respond, she just scowled while handing him one of the files from the middle of the stack.
She knew why he did it. She’d gone down that hole before and he was the one that had to pull her out. Twice.
She’d done worse than what she had done here. Much worse. It haunted her even though he said she had had no other choice.
Still the memories of it escaped their bars far too often. Slipping through easily with the blood they were coated in. Reminding her of just how far she was capable of going when pushed hard enough.
When Hungry enough and the only thing to eat was pulsing in the veins of the two-legged monsters that thought they could tame what they knew nothing about. When her stomach knotted and squeezed in on itself until she could hardly breathe for want of sustenance. When the halls were dark, dim, and so quiet she could hear their fear just as well as she could smell it.
He had nearly joined the others on the floor when he came. She remembered the particular tang of his fear that day. It was different from others. A unique mix of self-preservation, realization, and pain. From what she was doing to him and from what they had done to her.
He didn’t judge, but he brought her back from the brink of whatever beast they’d built her into. Food helped. It wasn’t the first time she’d had him at her mercy but it had been the last.
Blade always kept food nearby when they worked together. His serum did nothing for her. She wasn’t like he was. She didn’t know what she was.
She just knew what she had been and what she wasn’t.
“I found plenty of work for us, but not much else, really, not for my hunt. They’ve got their tentacles in as many kitchens as they can get them in.” She answered and he looked at the file nodding.
“Not surprised. They had to get their samples from somewhere.” He said and she nodded, “You rig this place?”
“Naturally, but not until morning. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat. They didn’t have anything good in there. As usual. Same slop they’ve always had.” She answered and he just shook his head while pushing off the wall and walking away with her, both disappearing into the night.
Her hunt continued as she helped him with his. Bases and outposts passed with alleys, clubs, and bloody battles that ran dry into dust.
Eventually, in between the starts and stops of hopping city to town to village to country seeking out the information she craved she finally tracked where they kept him down.
Countless hours spent in facilities she’d lost track of. Blood splattered on walls, floors, tables, chairs, cells, bars, and suits before it all boiled away from the heat of the flames she’d set. She knew better than to leave them cold.
You had to cauterize the stumps. Otherwise its blood would poison and two more would grow out from what remained oozing. Fire was the only way to bring HYDRA down.
It explained why they put him somewhere so cold that fire was almost impossible. Somewhere they could keep him cold. Somewhere they were expecting her to find by the time she did.
So close.
Just not close enough.
They knew she’d come eventually and for the first time they were fully prepared. They’d finally found a way to keep her out. Found what she feared enough to stay away.
Frustration burned through her as she retreated. White hot despite the bitter cold and stinging where they had tried to collar her again.
It was too heavily guarded and they were ready for her now. They stayed ready where they kept him. So her hunt had to shift and it did.
She let them have their small victory, but the war was hardly over.
She had never been one to give in before HYDRA and after it she was even less so. They were the ones that supplemented her skills so she’d be truly relentless. They were the ones that took away the only people that could ever make her slow down and stop.
Everyone. Even those that were still living.
“Peggy stop!” She ducked behind the steel, shots firing out.
She should have known better.
She should have known not to try.
She should have known they’d show everyone what she was.
She should’ve known.
“I know what you’ve done! I know what you are!” Peggy shouted back across the room, “Seventeen!”
“You don’t know shit! Listen to me, Peggy! It’s HYDRA! They’re-ah!” the bullet ripped into her arm.
She moved swiftly into new cover while Peggy reloaded her clip.
“HYDRA is gone…stop using them as an excuse for slaughter!”
She growled while digging the bullet out, chucking it across the floor as the blood flow stopped and her tissues stitched themselves back together. A small benefit from what she was now, but the smell lingered with the rage in the room. Peggy wasn’t afraid.
She was furious.
Disgusted.
“Peggy, please…listen to me. It’s not what you think. You don’t know what they did! Bucky-”
“Deserved better! What do you think he’d do if he knew of what you’ve done?! Do you think he’d be proud of the carnage?! Do you think Doctor Erskine would be proud of what you did?!” Peggy shouted back and the memories rattled against their cages, screaming, shrieking, and reaching out past the bars as something blossomed beside the knife Peggy’s words had twisted into her gut, “Seventeen!”
“Doctor Erskine would have listened! Bucky would have listened! STEVE would have listened!” she shouted back while watching the shadows running along the windows outside, clips being loaded into guns, the soft crackling of shock collars flicking on, and the static hum of them charging up.
“You hated Steve for taking Bucky with him!”
“No I didn’t! I never blamed Steve! I still don’t blame him! I never hated him! I just didn’t put him on a pedestal!” She shouted back and slunk around the boxes and crates of the warehouse, creeping silently, maneuvering slowly into the shadows.
Peggy had aged, but she was still Peggy. Beautiful, driven, tough, and angry. There was no way she was going to listen to anything that tore down what she had built and what Steve had sacrificed himself for.
The shadows slunk outside the windows, waiting, listening. They wanted to see if Peggy would believe what she was told or if she would continue to believe the lies they had fed her about her old friend. The lies won out.
It was for the best that they did. So she let them and fed into them more. They would leave Peggy alone that way. Even if she didn’t deserve it.
“He was the best of us. He mourned Bucky more than you ever did because he would not have done what you have! Seventeen bodies!” Peggy yelled then stiffened when she heard the whisper in her ear and the gun pressed to her head.
“More like seventy. You never saw my tears for Bucky. You went to Steve. Not me. Drop it.” She said and Peggy dropped the gun as shadows began to move and close in, “Steve and Bucky were brothers. I understood that. You never told him where I went. We argued and picked on each other, but I never hated Steve. He may not have liked me much but he wouldn’t have just given up when I went missing…like you all did. I know I’m a monster. Believe me I am very aware of that but at least I can admit that I am. I know who made me this way. I know who took everything from me and nothing is going to stand in my way of destroying them. Not even you. I know you’re angry…and hurt…and that’s the only reason I’m going to make sure you get out of here alive because Steve deserved better than to be put on a pedestal and I want you to live with that questioning exactly what I mean.”
Peggy spun around yet was met with a solid blow to the head, dropping her to the floor in an instant. The windows broke and the shadows poured in. Shock collars were hidden by the time Peggy came to, telling her how lucky she had been to survive.
Blade knew in an instant what had happened later. It was easy enough for him to tell when he saw his safehouse had been accessed and found the infamous Howling Witch sitting down and poking a chunk of barely cooked meat around on a plate.
“I guess she didn’t listen.” He said and received a head shake in response, “I’m not surprised. You shouldn’t be either.”
She huffed softly in response, shaking her head again, the weight of her meal heavy in her stomach. Peggy’s words weighed heavier.
“I’m not. I can barely recognize myself in a mirror, Eric…so how can anyone else recognize me for anything but a monster?”
He sighed and set his sunglasses down, collecting his thoughts before he spoke, “What you are is not your fault. You didn’t ask for this.”
“No one else believes that, though. I don’t think they can afford to. HYDRA will take down anyone that believes me. Anyone that shows it.” She said and he nodded.
“That’s the price you gotta pay to keep your hunt alive…or are you gonna give up because no one believes you?” he asked and she scowled at him making him smirk a bit, “That’s what I thought. They’re gonna paint you as a monster as much as they can. You have to choose what kind of one you want to be.”
“Since when have you turned into my guru?”
“Since you walked in here looking like a kicked puppy.”
“Don’t call me a puppy, Eric.”
“Then stop acting like one and choose what you’re gonna do next.” He said, holding her gaze as she scowled, “You know where he is.”
“I can’t get in. You know I can’t get in! They have it locked down tight! Everyone there carries the latest shock collar they’ve developed. I’ve tried. They made it clear what they’d do if I got past the collars and it wouldn’t be done to me.”
“So? They gonna keep him on ice forever?” he asked and she paused, thinking.
“No. They’re gonna wait until just the right moment, until they’ve made him obedient. More obedient than I appeared to be. They won’t repeat the same mistakes they made with me.” She said and he nodded before sitting down to sharpen his blade.
He was right. She couldn’t get in, but eventually they would let him out. So until then she’d be waiting, preparing, and paying.
Instead of the beast they created tracking down their prized asset she became the one that lingered outside the door. The one that they knew waited in the shadows ready to pounce the moment they took their Soldier out past the safety of their electrified doors and their supply of heavy grade shock collars.
She wasn’t far behind when they finally did.
Not that they had made it easy. She never expected that they would. Not for her and not for him.
Not after the mistakes they had made with her.
With him they’d be more careful. Yet they’d still follow a pattern of testing. They needed to know their efforts worked.
The first time they let him out onto the field it was a test. A way to see how obedient he was, how effective. It was a mission he could not fail.
They tried to move him secretly. Unknown, unannounced, unaware, but unfortunately they were never going to succeed. Not with her.
She had been getting information out of them in various ways since the war. Back then it had been through intercepted transmissions and code breaking. It still was but since they had learned to arm their soldiers with shock collars she had learned to pick through their ranks until she found a few that liked something even more than fancy new toys: Money.
Their own money that she had made hers through the years.
HYDRA liked to portray itself as above the vulgarity of monetary greed and material wealth but their vaults had plenty of it stored inside them. Millions if not more in gold, silver, jewels, vibranium, bank notes, and stolen artwork she duly returned for a nominal finder’s fee. HYDRA was anything but a non-profit charity and neither was she.
Especially with their soldiers. Try as HYDRA might to teach them the only reward they needed was the fulfillment of their goals she knew better. They all wanted power, but money would do in the meantime.
Money couldn’t get Bucky out but it could make people talk about when he was being sent into the field. Even certain ones of their own people. So when they were finally ready to let him out…she knew about it from several different sources.
She was there within hours, trailing them, observing, calculating, assessing, and searching for openings. They didn’t leave any. Then she saw him again and time stopped.
The weight of it was unexpected. Twenty years with one goal in mind and there he was. The memories of him rattled and raged against their cages.
She couldn’t stop them all. She could only keep them silent as they flickered and flashed relentlessly. His touch, his comfort, the safety he had given, the smile he showed everyone else, the smile she knew had been hers and only hers, the way he’d say her name.
Focus. She had to focus. The tears burned, stinging at her eyes as she brought the scope back up.
Blue eyes…but they weren’t what she remembered. They were cold. Empty. Ready to obey.
He wasn’t Bucky. Not anymore. It wasn’t the gleaming metal arm he now had; it was the blank look in his blue eyes she spotted through the scope of her rifle. It ripped into her soul to move the scope from them to the others with him. The ones monitoring him.
Ever since her attempt to get him out from within nearly resulted in her recapture she learned to keep a larger distance between herself and anyone sporting shock collars.
All of those in his unit were. They dangled on their belts. Dull metal, pronged, and charged. Ready.
They were expecting her to take their bait.
They let him out as a test, but they were also using him as bait. She wasn’t surprised. Listening in on their communications she knew they were waiting for her to make a move.
“She’ll be here somewhere. Keep your eyes open. Last unit that encountered her in the field never came off it.”
“Then how did anyone know it was her? She leave a calling card? Best regards The Howling Witch? She’s a fairytale.”
“No, she isn’t, and she doesn’t need to leave a calling card. She’s HYDRA trained. An experiment gone wrong and that got out.”
“Pfft…rumors.”
“Facts. You didn’t see what she did to the British Facility they trained her in. I was a new recruit back then. I was there. I got out just before they sealed the doors shut. I heard the screams…and…what I saw…”
“Shit. Why’d she do it?”
“I don’t know. They never said, but she’s why we’re here with him. She was perfect. Obedient. Went out and came back on her own. Then she snapped.”
“So…what…what do we do?”
“Get the collar on her. Hit the button. She’ll go down.”
“I meant if he does the same.”
“He won’t. They wiped his memories and personality down into nothing like they should have with her.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“I don’t know.”
She did.
They just couldn’t, but not from lack of trying. They had tried. Again and again and again and again until the lights flickered and they could turn the voltage up no higher.
It just didn’t work. Her body’s ability to heal itself was faster than their chair’s ability to hurt her. They never had a chance to try anything different.
She kept her distance as they followed him, listening to their conversations until she spotted an opening.
Small, but an opening. She took her shots. One a piece.
It was all she needed yet it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t underestimated HYDRA’s conditioning of him. She had underestimated the level of commands they would give.
The moment he saw his unit was gone he fled, acting on his orders given. He ran. He ran right back to them as he was told to.
She had just helped him succeed in his first mission and helped him pass his first test.
Sadly, it wouldn’t be the last.
“NO! Put me down!” she snarled, struggling against the thick arms of the vampire hunter that had made her his problem.
Her muscles tensed and her head throbbed harder the farther they got away. Away from the danger. Away from her soldier.
So close.
She almost had him. Close enough she could hear his heart beating in his chest. Near enough she had to slam the doors shut on her memories at the scent of him.
So close.
“You’re bleeding. The US military is swarming the countryside. You think they’re gonna just…let you go after him after you spotted their new experiment? They’re gonna bury this whole thing as deep as they can, you know that, right?” Blade asked then grunted when she hit him hard enough to let her go, running after her, catching her again only for her to pull the knife from its sheath at his side to hold it at his neck, “Calm…down…focus…”
“He was there! He was…I could have…I was…” She started, blinking rapidly, shaking her head as she held it, the blood long since stopped, but there was enough left drying it only added to the weight she felt settling in, “I was so close…”
“I know, but getting caught here…now…it wouldn’t help.” He said as he carefully gripped her wrist and moved it away, taking the knife from her, “Now come on…we gotta move. It’s not safe.”
So close.
1960s
She didn’t like shooting at him, it just so happened that sometimes she had no other choice but to do it. It was either shoot at him or let him do something she knew he’d never forgive himself for even if it wasn’t really him doing it. It was the Winter Soldier.
That’s what they called him. The Asset, Soldat, The Winter Soldier. Not his name.
So that’s what she told herself.
It wasn’t Bucky she shot at.
It was the Winter Soldier.
The Winter Soldier was not Bucky.
He wasn’t.
So she wasn’t shooting at Bucky, she was shooting at the Winter Soldier…because she had to. HYDRA had forced her to.
Never to seriously harm him, only to stop him from things if she could. To slow him down. To correct their assumptions.
“I see I have found a flaw…you hesitate because you know he’ll obey without question. Even if it means being my shield.”
This officer was admittedly more intelligent than the others had been. Instead of looking around blindly for where the shots were coming from he had ordered the Soldier to shield him. It had made her hesitate, but not out of reluctance.
She needed to reload and adjust the scope slightly.
“That’s right. Stay in front of me. Stay right thg-gcchk”
Blood splattered on the concrete behind him. The Soldier turned abruptly to look at the gaping hole now in the officer’s neck. She ejected the shell from the chamber with a satisfied hum before pocketing it as she always did. Then she paused.
He didn’t run. The Soldier did not run.
Something flashed across his blue eyes as they turned from the blood on the wall towards the direction she was in. His shock soon shifted to a scowl. Then he did something new.
She listened to the orders being barked at him to retreat, to return to base, to report in, and yet…he didn’t. Instead he pulled his communications earpiece out and picked up a rifle. One with a scope.
“Shit.” She cursed and ducked down out of sight; she knew he wouldn’t miss if he spotted her.
It was her turn to run. Yet as she did her stomach swirled with a nauseating mixture of guilt and hope. She had never run from him before…but he had disobeyed.
He had reacted, shown something in those eyes besides blind obedience, and disobeyed.
She knew it wouldn’t last, but it was something. Just what kind of something was it?
Was he doing as she had? Pretending? Feigning obedience?
No. Not that she didn’t think Bucky was capable or prone to such a thing. She just knew it wasn’t that. She just knew that would have looked different.
This…she had pissed him off, but he had done something unexpected.
The thoughts of it echoed and swirled in her head for days afterwards. Her nights were filled with them. Every waking hour contemplated the possibilities. Every mome-
“You need to sleep.” The door shut behind the dhampir as he walked in, setting his guns on the table next to his eponymous blades, “You know what’ll come next.”
“I’m fine.”
“No…you’re not.” He said as he shot her a sharp look and set several containers of food on the table, “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Bullshit. Eat. I’m not going through that shit again.” He said and threw a wrapped-up sandwich at her, “Eat. Sleep. Rest. We gotta get out of here in the morning.”
“But he’s here.” she said as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with one hand while the other held the thick sandwich he had flung at her.
“Not anymore. If you had slept you’d remember that. Eat.” He said again, pointing a finger at the sandwich she held, “Then get some fucking sleep before you start seeing shit that isn’t real again.”
She glared and ripped the wrapper off the sandwich before stuffing it into her mouth, growling as she bit down. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the taste, her stomach roiling, yet she swallowed the bite anyway. It hit her stomach hard and each subsequent bite hit harder, weighing her down even more.
Sleep didn’t come easy. It never did after she saw Buc-The Winter Soldier. Not when her bed threatened to swallow her whole with its emptiness. Sitting in it, tired as she was, it seemed to stretch out into an endless void of cold. A desert of snow. Just like where they were taking him back to.
“You need to sleep, sweetheart.”
She looked up from her spot on the floor knowing full well what she would see on the bed. Him as he had been. Hair slicked back, dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie loose, sleeves rolled up, blue eyes locked on hers that were no longer the soft grey he would have known.
“You’re not real.” She said with a sigh and looked back at the ceiling, “Go away…”
“You know if I go the rest will come.”
“Go away.”
“Why do you do this? He’s not me. He would have shot you. You need to let me go.”
“Go…away…” she said again, pressing her palms into her eyes, “Go away. Go away. Go away. Not real. You’re not real.”
“But you want me to be. I’m not comin’ back, sweetie. Even if you get him out…there’s nothing left of me there. You know what they do. They got their tentacles in and ripped me out. He’s not me. He never will be. All you got is me. The me that still knows who you are and won’t run whenever he sees you. You know why he does, why he shot at you. They told him you’re a monster. Something to fear, disgust, and to get rid of. Just like they told Peggy.”
“Go away!” She snarled, rivers forming down her cheeks when her gaze landed on empty air, “Not real…he wasn’t real. Sleep. I need to sleep. I need t-”
A different voice.
“Once upon a time…in a village not far from ours…a family quite different from ours lived. The father, stepmother, and two children…”
“Eddie…please…” she sniffled, shaking her head at the sound of her brother’s voice speaking a language he shouldn’t have been, “Not that one…”
“You used to like that one…” he said and she shook her head, curled up around the pillow she had brought with her, blanket wrapped around her while she looked behind her and saw him there.
Short dark curly hair, glasses perched on his nose, grey eyes like hers had been wearing a crisp clean white shirt and neatly pressed pants. His favorite brown pair. He looked just as tired as she was.
“I don’t want to hear about the gingerbread house again…or food…” she answered as she turned to face him, “Anything but that…I want to sleep…not vomit.”
“Picky picky…but fine…let’s see…Once upon a time, quite long ago, in a land far different from ours…” He began, both phantom and sister unaware of the brown eyes peering through the door, shaking his head while shutting it softly.
She woke the next morning alone as she had since the last time Bucky had left her. Yet the memory of his disobedience returned swiftly. As did his anger.
She just needed to figure out how to duplicate it. She needed to learn how to draw out his disobedience again. To trigger him to think.
Safely.
Secretly.
A/N: Now. This is part one. Part two is coming hopefully by Thursday (I'd say by Wednesday my time but...I have things that will possibly interfere. If we're lucky it'll get done today. Depends on weather). It may be some time before the rest of the story is out. I'm trying. There's a lot going on and there are a lot of moments of doubt that are surfacing as I write. I know roughly where I want to end it. I just need to work my way there without the same kind of road map I've had from the MCU up to where I'm at right now.
There's a lot of mental health issues in the story. I'm not an expert by any means on mental health, healing, or recovery. I research what I can but I'm not an expert (and when you have characters that aren't exactly human it gets harder to work out). It's just something that's going to be explored and since May is an awareness month I'd love to get this done this month.
Interactions, comments, reblogs, asks...they keep me motivated. I appreciate every like, kudos, bookmark, and view, I sincerely do, but if you really want to motivate me to get it all done and out: comment, reblog, send asks, tell me.
Masterlists: Howling Witch🔹MASTER Masterlist
Ao3 Link: Prologue Part 1 (Registered users only due to recent scraping issues)
[WIP] I am Remastering my Ikleud redesign painting. And It all started bc I only realized yesterday. Feb 3rd, 2 months after i posted this piece. That the ambient lighting layer was hidden this whole time lmao
