Spider-Verse Masterlist

Spider-Verse Masterlist

Miles Morales

Rough-Housing With Miles Morales

Earth 42 Miles Morales

Second Chance

His Second Chance

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Affectionate!Reader

Reader Gets Into A Fight For Him

Gwen Stacy

Stealing Gwen Stacy's Clothes

Hobie Brown

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Pavitr Prabhakar

Moving Away From Pavitr Prabhakar

Back In His Arms

✧ 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(۶ૈ ᵒ _ᵒ)۶ૈ=͟͟͞͞ 🏈

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘺, 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘮. 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭.

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 & 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 741 words

⭒ a/n: thank you all so much for the support and appreciation!!! i never expected my story to be so well loved :') i will be uploading yan!rockstar pt.2, yan!sea god, and a masterlist after this one! <3 (god i hate jocks)

will you venture down this path?

pop music blasts throughout the forest, bottles of discarded alcohol litter the ground, and a hundred or so young adults looking to mess up their lives dance around the large bonfire. mid-semester exams have just ended and you and your friends have decided to go to Jean Marley's party.

you are now gathered around a smaller campfire with your friends, sharing stories and laughing alongside them. Jean, the star of the party, suddenly speaks up, "who's up for a game?" a collection of voices yell out their own versions of an agreement.

"alright, let's play... truth or dare!"

"i'm pretty sure this is how horror movies start, yeah?" someone whispers into your ear.

you turn to the direction of the whisper, eyes mere centimetres away from Liam's own hazel ones. a small giggle leaves your lips as you take a sip from your cup, "if this was a horror movie, you'd definitely be the killer." Liam gasps dramatically and clenches his dark varsity jacket where his heart would be.

"you'd suspect me?! agh, how could you—"

"oh, come on! don't you think that'd be a great plot? dumb jock— who's not actually dumb— hunts down all his friends, and seemingly has no reason to do so. why would he? he's rich, popular, and has everything he could ever ask for! it's the perfect plot twist."

"well, I could think of one reason why..."

"oh? and that is?"

he moves in closer, and you could smell the faded scent of his expensive cologne mixed with sweat. his sharp eyes droop ever so slightly as if he was now looking down at your lips.

"he was madly in love with the final girl. so much, he'd murder everyone else just to keep them to himself."

"wha—"

you are interrupted by Jean's voice, "y/n! truth or dare?" confusion hits you until you see the bottle has landed on you. oh.

"dare."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Liam couldn't fucking believe you. why would you risk your life for a stupid dare?!

there you were, undressing yourself to prepare to jump off the cliff and into the lake. and here he was, watching with the others from a distance. he'd run over to you right now if he wasn't so... breathless.

phones were out, on-lookers recording this moment. you were barely dressed, figure so captivating you looked like a forest nymph dancing through the currents, the round moonlight created a silhouette of your body that further proved his comparison.

if anyone spreads those pictures of you, he's going to kill them.

in that moment, he felt his soul return to the body of his younger self on the first day of high school— he was trying out for the football team, destroying all the other prepubescent boys with no remorse. tryouts had ended and he was now an official member, that's when he first saw you.

you were on the field with your friends. they'd laid out a small picnic mat with books scattered all over them while you danced to the rhythm of a lana del rey song blaring through your phone speakers.

suddenly he knew— he knew all his prayers for a greater purpose in life were answered, you. the lyrics to the love songs his parents danced to in the garage finally made sense.

the mellow flashback was cut short by the sound of a loud splash in the water. you jumped.

panic settles in and he doesn't think before jumping into the lake with you. people cheer on as they take this as a sign to join in the water.

his biceps cling onto your body as he pulls the both of you to the surface. you wipe away any hair and water on your face and smile up at him. he returns your smile and you both swim to the land.

on land, his calloused hands never seem to retract from your waist. it settles itself on the cold, wet surface of your shirt. you can feel the heat radiating off his hands and an electric tingle in your spine.

people gather around your wet bodies and offer you both towels. it could be adrenaline, but you swear you could feel his grip tighten a little too much when others approach you.

Liam continues to stay by your side all through the night. even during the car ride home, his palms never leave your thigh.

guess you'll have a guard dog for a while.

Rage, Love, Lust, Jealousy - On fire

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Winter Soldier

Steve wanted to prevent the Winter Soldier from happening, but the timeline mixes, present meets past. You know of the Ghost story, you shared decades at Hydra. The Soldier is protective, but Bucky becomes distant, not wanting to see his past self, your past lover.

Words - 4100 Warnings - angst, slight smut, russian >;) Song - Soviet Connection └── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Part 1

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Snezana (reader's name; meaning - snow woman) Samodiva - Hydra's code name Flashbacks are in 3rd POV

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Bucky knows that Steve deserves it all. He deserves love and peace and magic and joy dancing in his eyes. He has earned his right for freedom and goodness and company and days of bliss and quiet too. He is physically, mentally, and emotionally ready to enter a new phase in his life, a life where their lines separate. Steve’s fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say, but Peggy is what he needs, and James has accepted it. She was always a bottled-up memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. I hopes that he is living the moment all over again. When he sees Steve back on the platform, he is not sure which is worse: the intense feeling of uncertainty, or the absence of reason for him coming back the same. „Steve, you are back-“ „Bucky?“ he stares at the metal arm „It didn’t work“ He makes a sound that is halfway between a sigh and a grunt, his face has a pensive expression. „What did you do?“ He blues the question coldly and curses himself for his lack of control. Bucky purses his lips and studies Steve through narrowed eyes, at first his heart is breaking, and then he grows angry. „I-I tried to prevent it, but what happened, why are you still the same?“ The Caption narrows his eyes. It is not the angle he’d been intending on, but he supposes it is still a valid question for him. „Why did you interfere with the time, now we don’t know what you might have caused. We don’t know enough about time travel“ Bruce explains with a furious expression on his face. He is not exactly sure what to do with that information yet, so he filed it away and starts walking. „I am sorry, I wanted to make it right-“ A surge of fear sears his lungs. With a deep breath through his nose, Steve forces it away, freezes it out. „Jesus…“ Bruce walks past him, throwing his arms up in frustration. „Where is Snezana?“ Steve asks, his tone even and patient. „Fuck…I need to call to see if-“ Bucky lowers his voice and hopes he doesn’t sound as morose as he feels. She is gone, erased? What will I do? Bucky tenses up at the thought of you being gone, he tries not to let his trepidation show, so he shrugs instead as he calls you, hoping you pick up.   Why do I even ask if she picks up, what if she doesn’t? I will ask her about her vacation, but we already spoke- „Bucky, why are you calling?“ you ask sheepishly, voice thick with sleep. Your question interrupts the inner pep talk he was giving himself and sufficiently distracts him for the moment. Honestly, he is unsure if he should be enraged at Steve’s decision, or grateful for you being part of the present. „Just wanted to know if you are okay“ „Am I okay, it’s in the middle of the night here, did you forget?“ you sound a little disbelieving, mockingly asking him. „Yeah, sorry–„ he seems to cut himself off „so what are you doing tomorrow?““ „I told you, I have two days left in Bulgaria and then I will head to Greece. Did something happen, did Steve come back?“ He blinks, flaking away every last fleck of rising panic that strikes him. Anger joins at the mention of his best friend’s name and what might have happened otherwise, a fresh flush of heat beneath his skin. He cools that too, forces it down, flakes it away. At least she is okay. „Yeah, don’t worry, everything is fine“ finally, as a sense of calm numbs the anger within, numbs the idea darkening the edges of his vision „Call me when you can“ „Goodnight, Bucky“

You sound irritated, on edge, craving more sleep. You have no idea why he even called you, but decided you are too tired to waste any of your energy wondering about it. He doesn’t want to ruin your fun, traveling alone is something you always talked about. You were both ripped into being alive after spending decades together at Hydra. Your life was pain, suffering , but you are alive and it’s spectacular – the freedom to do all the things you want – you both are unusual and tragic, but finally human. ------------------------------------------------

„Is there a possibility that nothing has changed?“ Bucky asks. „No, no-we need to figure out what are the consequences“ Sam reminds him. He places his bottle on the floor, stretches, letting his bum slide on the sofa, and he leans back. His head swirls, and he feels his temples throbbing. There is not a moment of peace. ------------------------------------------------ You are calling him, but he already has a premotion that something bad has happened. „Bucky, what the fuck is going on?“ you scolded. „Doll-“he whispers, wanting to know the reasoning behind your tone „Answer me, what are you looking at?“ he asks in a shuddering voice. „You, I’m fucking looking at you“ you say, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as your words rolled off your tongue. Winter stalks to you, he grip you tightly by the upper arms, forcing you to look up into his eyes as he towered over you. He keeps holding your arm, somehow incapable of letting go, not now that he’d found an anchor, stilling the churning sea in his stomach. You don’t try to break away either. You freeze, and feel a tightness in your chest, a shortness of breath like you have been punched in the gut - "No way…“ you whisper, briefly closing your eyes when he comes too close, shamelessly staring - swallowing you whole – they drift down to your cleavage, sitting there for a second before flashing back to meet your gaze. One hand stays against your hip, the other grasps the back of your neck tightly.

Rage explodes inside, dangerous, lust rushing over your skin. The gleam of metal makes you slide your gaze away. It looks like ornamentation, a deadly one. His eyes remind you of the ocean: clear as spring water tumbling over mossy rocks, dark as a cloud shadow. „What do you mean you are looking at me?“ „Я не знаю, кто ты.“ (I don't know who you are)  „Нет, я имею ввиду, откуда ты?“ (No, I mean, where are you from?) „Who are you speaking to?“ „Солдат. Steve caused this, right?“ You respond immediately in a severe tone. The way you say it is uncomfortably familiar to Bucky, bringing up all kinds of bad memories from over the years. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, concentrating on his breathing and trying not to drown in the horrid words that have gone through his ears. This is positively surreal. A burning fire lights up his thoughts. He looks for the source, only to find reflections of the flame - In this maze of mirrors, all he sees is himself, his past self. „You are in danger, you-“ he responds softly, voice barely above a whisper. „No, no I am not, and we both know it“ You cut him off abruptly. You sound thoughtful, rather than concerned „Talk with the others, I will keep a watch on him“ When there is nothing else to be said, you end the call. Winter can't suppress the desire to intertwine his fingers through your hair, tugging your head back and kissing you, the light pain forces your mouth open and uses that to savor it with his tongue. His need for air finally rips his tongue out from yours, sticky strands of spit spilling between your mouths as you share collective gasps of breath.

------------------------------------------------ Bucky remembers the feeling of possessiveness he has as the Winter Soldier over you, so intense it used to transformed into rage. He rubs his hand over his scalp, where his long hair used to be – now shaved very close to his head and bristling against his fingers as you end the call, lowering his blue eerily crystalline eyes before closing them. He feels like he should be crying, but he couldn’t summon the tears. And now that shadows of the past try to recapture his own new reality, in this hour of sadness, this twilight hour. Since that hallowed moment you first met at Hydra, he has never forgotten the love you had together and he thought that all the suffering had disappeared, minds cleared – a memory comes to him as old letter, tattered and fading and retracing a whole new timeline in just moments, his whole existence is recaptured by the shadows of the past and Sam worries as he enters the room. Bucky doesn’t acknowledge him - his friend is breaking from the inside.

„They will wipe me if we get caught again, Soldat“ she whispers as she touches his face, there is burning in her eyes, he stares, entranced. He melts at her touch, feeling an electric burn, like battery acid.

„You will remember me again“

He says, plainly. Hydra could never cripple their strange relationship, no matter how many times they tried, It’s like spring melting snow – wiped memories finding their way through the crevice of both their minds after every brainwashing session.

„It doesn't hurt less, it's paradoxical-“

She says, nodding at the sea-blue eyes, not looking away from him, but Soldat doesn’t let her finish as he kisses her. Winter’s lips are warm, his body is heat and muscle against her. He kisses her like tide, gentle at first, but with the ability to drown, his fingers digging into her waist, urging her ever-nearer to him, even when it’s physically impossible to be. Then they slithers over her chest, hands immediately find her breasts and he starts to massage them for his own pleasure. His fingers curls around the edges of her shirt, pulling and eventually tearing it away from her skin.

There is love and there is pain, a whirling wheel – never stopping. He wastes no time, kissing her deeply again, already missing the feeling of warmth. It hurts to go away, but it's impossible to stay. They are slow to trust their fading memory, not knowing what is real every time. Battered and bruised by the years they spend, below the surface of the real meaning of life – freedom.

"I always will be yours, Samodiva"

A simple reply, his voice cut into her like glass, his possessiveness bleeding into her skin. It isn’t something to be argued against, it’s the truth and she acknowledges that. It’s ridiculous, absurdly sentimental to think that she managed to lay a claim on him.

Samodiva is trying to think of something, coming up short when he presses his hips flush against her, the chest harness wrinkling under the tight grip of her fists, pulling him and he hems her up against the wall, grinding his cock against her. She slides one hand downwards, wrapping around his already-hardening manhood and squeezes, Soldat moans quietly and involuntarily rolls into the contact, desperately seeking relief.

There it is, as in the fairy tales, you are in love with the Ghost story and Bucky wonders what are you doing now – hundreds of miles away – alone with Winter. The truth is that monsters are real, and ghosts are real, too. They live inside you, and sometimes they win, sometimes they literally come from the past to haunt you, to haunt Bucky once more. „Hey man, I am here for you, did Snezana told you something?“ Sam touches him and that’s grounds him a bit, he is gathering his thoughts through the haze of his past. James has to search his brain, remind himself what he’d even asked through his occlusive fog. „Yeah-h, my past self is here, he found her“ Bucky shakes his head, sadness vibrating through his body as he speaks through clenched teeth. As he stutters, Sam taps him on his shoulder, pulling him from the deep shadows of his dark vaults, he is directly next to him – and Bucky indulges himself to the reassuring touch.

„Let’s talk with Bruce “ Sam says quietly, his amber eyes staring intently at his troubled friend. This whole situation is killing him inside, ripping open fresh wounds that has scarcely begun to heal.

------------------------------------------------ Winter is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

He is covered in blood, it drops on the floor - the sight of gore was always peaceful in your corrupted existence at Hydra. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood gets over your face. Your wretched fate was always shared, the need for touch also. Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggles as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over her - waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love. „I was on a mission then everything changed so suddenly - all I knew is to look for you“

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answers without faltering, fully dismissing the bigger picture.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct. A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendering to him.

He wastes no time… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the wall, there is a glimpse of human nature when he fills the room with moans.

„I am yours“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through you.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needed. ------------------------------------------------

Winter likes it dark. The dark is comforting to him. The eternal clock ticks away the decades somewhere in the back of his mind – he knows it’s been decades and no matter the torture, screaming, endless training session or wipes, there is no escaping the maze of hell. There are no windows to show him night and day at Hydra - grief compels him more than sleep ever could – the maze of hell is always dark, so he loves the dark apartment, the curtains are pulled in the middle of the day, some habits don’t change.

You are facing the memories of your past, trying to elude the suffering of your own night terrors. Because behind all your suffering is standing a woman, ready to be reborn again. All you wanted is to learn to stand alone, not depend on others and Bucky is understanding of your wishes. It is good to finally let go, let the suffocating fragments of your past pour out of your heart – you are so homesick for yourself. But how do you rebuild your life when the past is here?

------------------------------------------------

Her honey-brown eyes and her small knife – that’s how Winter remembers her every time. He is hoping that some memories of him would cross her mind just once, he doesn’t care if it’s with disdain.

She feels a throb within her heart, in which no emotion takes part ,it's a yearning growing – to destroy. So sweet it thrills her through and through while tapping the hilt of a knife, staring at Winter, stillness fills the air.

He shifts the weight in his still posture – but before he could exhale, the sharp blade strikes his own knife and he watches it fall to the ground, out of reach. Winter craves strength, starves for strength when she charges at his confused self.

Winter is overpowered, but manages to actually land a successful blow which throws the attacker flying back. He is bigger and tougher, but she is small and scrappy – using it to her advantage to the fullest.

„Трахни тебя“ (Fuck you)

The tension is weighing heavily, vibrating tightly through her clenched fists as she launches at him once more, tackling him on the hard asphalt and getting on top on him. A bigger knife, a blur, as it sweeps up towards his throat. The weapon locks against him, trapping him on the ground, using his metal arm to block it.  

The gleam of metal makes her slide her gaze away. It looks like ornamentation, a deadly one. She resists the temptation to rub her fingers over it. There is nothing to feel there. But why is there a familiar feeling inside of her, the arm is blending with a memory.

Winter follows her gaze to the arm, and then back to her face, using her mistake to turn them over, letting anger fuels him, because he has nothing else left. A trickle of sweat runs down her forehead, groaning under the weight of Soldat.

„Now this is interesting“ one of the guards manages a half-smile in response to the sight and inclined his  head.

„Enough“

Terror fills Samodiva’s mind at the familiar voice – in every language, even in the darkness she will always recognize his voice. The man just stares. His face is still veiled in her memories, but the dark paint outlining his eyes only makes them bluer. Eyes that has always reminded her of the ocean: clear as spring water tumbling over mossy rocks, dark as a cloud shadow.

Her breath catches. It was him. He looks away at the other soldiers, lowering his gaze, but she knew him. She knows him.

„When was I wiped?“

she asks, a tremor makes her voice uneven. She takes in a deep breath to balance out the urgency thrumming through her.

„Two days ago, after you returned from a mission“

„They will wipe me again“

He grunts at the warmth of her body, face gone red and strained, shining with sweat as well. She smiles widely, unable to hide her moments of human happiness completely. Winter blinks and smiles back. They have slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never seem to recover.

„You will remember again, you always do“

He says it as a matter of fact, without the scorn and mockery, but as an accepted truth before getting up and makes himself stroll away casually, taking a fighting pose once more.

You have nightmares. Not every night, and not always bad enough that you can’t fall back to sleep, but disruptive, nevertheless. You draw in a deep breath in a loud sucking wheeze and shots upright in bed, panting and looking wildly around the room. You are safe.

"Shit" you gasp, head is throbbing from the nightmare "Damn it" you comb fingers through your hair, cursing under your breath. The digital clock numbers gleam in the darkness of the nightstand - 5:00 am. You isolate the panic seizing your veins and lungs, freezing it out, old memory forcing its way to the forefront of your mind through the nightmare. You throw your legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the cup of water on the nightstand. “What is your mission, why are you here?” Winter finally asks and your brain flips, calculating the meaning of that question. „Samodiva, did you hear me?“ His voice carries flat, syllables sour, so lifeless. He knows that you have sensed his presence, because you sigh when he asks the question. He didn’t speak after he fucked you against the wall, you two spend the whole day in silence - you didn’t want to pressure him to do anything so you waited. You laugh weakly, feigning humility with a half shrug „Samodiva? That’s something I haven’t heard in a long time“ You snap your attention to him and your heart flips, sinks, or otherwise makes its machinations known in a way wholly unusual to its normal operation – he looks so lost, he looks soulless. You resist the urge to speak, to acknowledge the discomfort that envelopes him, whispering of paradox avoidance, but fuck the broken timelines „Come here, Зима“ (Winter) He stops in front of you, belatedly realizing where his feet have carried him. There is no glamour, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive lust, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state – you feel it too. His beautiful features offering themselves to your gaze as you trail though them, annoyed at how attractive Winter looks - with his dark, messy locks covering part of his face – putting your mind into a darker cloud of irritation, waiting for him to do whatever he wants. In one swift motion, he pulls the mask off his face to reveal those piercing blue eyes you had fallen in love with over the decades as he sits right next to you. „Я по тебе соскучился.“(I missed you) A hand slips, landing on your thigh. „Я тебя поцелую... Потом... Если захочешь.“ (I will kiss you…Then…If you want.) Your eyes follow his fingers as they caress you. „Я... хочу целоваться с тобой повсюду.“ (I want to kiss you everywhere) He seems pleased as he edges closer to the dangerous parts of your body. Winter’s other hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, his metal thumb running over your cheekbone before it lowers to your chin, whilst the other remains on your tight. „Зима...“ His name falling on his ears like that sent chills down his spine, he can hear the beat of his heart, his palms belong on your skin as he closes the gap between you. Nothing is sweeter, nothing else than his Samodiva – lust is spreading like quickfire in his veins, groaning in the kiss. His lips softly leave yours, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you easily in his lap. Winter’s greedy lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can – licking, sucking, and kissing not holding back his throaty moans. ------------------------------------------------ He used to freeze in senseless terror in the first bite of vicious Winter – nightmares making him hem his nails in his skin, balled into a dance of despair from which he can’t wake up. He years for warmth, oh God, grant me flame to heat my blood, the loneliness is shattering me. So many spring-times die away, not leaving even one flower, oh God, grant me love and consolation in my long-lived life.

Every scream, every groan and every sound shattered the frightened stillness of the night – Bucky is having another nightmare. Darkness seeps into him, he can no longer hear the harrowing quiet rain, only Bucky’s screams. He gives in the mournful yearning to go to his room, quietly opening his door and entering.

The noises don’t fall silent, he loiterers lonely in the dark to sit next to him on the bed – the sight looks like Bucky’s calm nature is faded, distant and forgotten. An unsettled Winter creaks, always greedy, never sated.

Grief compelled him for too long, more than sleep. He wanted something to last – your love. Yes, there are times you live for somebody else – he is capable of living, but sometimes too weak to fight the past until you came along.

From a secret distance, a tender voice calls him –

Someone is calling him, his dream girl wrapped in love and flowers –

„Doll?“

„I am here, Bucky,” he whispers, staring mutinously at him. „Sam?“ Whatever thoughts of the nightmare are passing through his mind, James blinks them away. He refuses to look away from his anger, feeling equal parts furious and ashamed „I can’t believe this is happening“ Sam touchеs him on the shoulder. „We will figure it out“ The utter normality of his tone manages to puncture his haze of Hell for a moment. Bucky smiles, and even in the darkness, Sam could see the dull white gleam of his teeth – Reality is worse than having nightmares – he thinks „Don’t wake me up again“ ------------------------------------------------

“The most monstrous monster is the monster with noble feelings” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

"Not all men..."

Yeah your right José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal would never treat me like this