#brooklynsoul

"What, you dragging us into shit and me gettin' us out?" he asked, knocking his shoulder against Steve's with a little more force than necessary. "I seem t'recall your ma and mine both having a fit and threatening to lock us both in our rooms until we're thirty if we got in another fight this month."

There was gonna be no hiding this one. Bucky could already tell he was going to have quite the shiner soon, and he knew his parents wouldn't believe that it was from training at the YMCA. He sighed. He hated seeing that worried look on his mother's face and the disappointment in his dad's eyes. Also, his eye was really starting to fucking hurt, the adrenaline wearing off and the cold cloth he'd pressed to his face warming up. He pulled it away, waved it in the air a few times, and replaced it, wincing as he did.

"Give me a good reason you couldn't have just walked away," he demanded quietly.

@brooklynsoul​ asked :  55. Initiate a tickle fight ( for prewar steve! )

               SHE HADN’T EXPECTED it when his fingers dug into her sides... for a lot of reasons. The first: there weren’t many times Steve could sneak up on Becky. His shoes ( too big for him, filled with newspaper to fit better ) squeaked. Sometimes, he squeaked, too, if his breathing got too labored. 

— And there was the fact that these days, there just hadn’t been a lot of time to have a lark. 

She squealed in surprise, trying to twist away from Steve’s hands, twirling so that he was no longer behind her, and she glared at him, trying to keep her smile — both from the surprise of the attack and her amusement — at bay. 

@brooklynsoul

      1970.

      A year insignificant to most, but to HYDRA it marked the beginning of their next wave of plans. Plans that had been taking form ever since their infiltration into SHIELD in the 1940s after the end of the Second World War. In a recent flurry of background negotiations, fuelled by the fall of the USSR, HYDRA had finally managed to get their hands on a long desired, long rumoured and extremely effect Asset.

            The Winter Soldier.

            “What’s wrong with him?”

      The Asset was currently crouched in the corner of a small, square room, breathing heavily and soaked in sweat. Blood coated his right arm where crimson poured steadily from a large gash on his forearm, a wound he had received in his struggle to free himself from the shackles holding him down. In his attempt at freedom, the Asset has managed to kill the technician who had been working on setting up the fluid drips required for the expected wipe and return to cryo-freeze. Things were not going as intended.

            “Honestly we’re not sure. He was secured within the restraints, Anderson was preparing the fluid and reported the Asset was questioning him about why he was here. He freaked the moment the needle touched his arm. Ripped himself out the shackles and took Anderson down in seconds. It’s like he’s trying to escape, he just... doesn’t know it.” The technician behind the glass was hurriedly explaining the situation to two HYDRA operatives that had arrived moments after the breach alarm had been triggered. Laughter rose up at the technician’s last comment and one agent, Teeg, reached to pat the man on the shoulder.

            “The mutt doesn’t have a fucking clue. You haven’t used the tranquillisers because...?”

            “Well, sir, the wound the Asset suffered in his escape needs to be treated before any form of sedation can be administered. Something bleeding that heavily, reducing his heart rate with sedation will only serve to raise the risk of us damaging something we shouldn’t. Besides,” the technician swallowed, “you know Pierce prefers us to operate on him while he’s awake.”

      Teeg smirked at that, reaching for the stun baron on his belt as he moved towards the door. “Alright, David you take the right, I’ll take the left. Shoot him if he shows any sign of fighting back. You start reading the code to get his puddled mind back under control and I’ll work on... manual sedation.” The baton crackled into life as Teeg left the room with David and headed down the short corridor to the steel doors securing the Asset from the rest of the team. 

      In the control room, the technician flipped open a small, red leather journal and moved through its pages until he came across the code.

            “Do we know what caused him to act out?” Teeg asked as he scanned his card on the door and stepped into the room. David shrugged.

            “Something about he saw the name of the military base above us and started unravelling. Heard Pierce talk about a new technique they’re developing to reprogram him, scoops out deep. Better get it done soon”

      Inside, the Asset didn’t seem to react to the doors sliding open and the two agents walking in. The speakers above crackled into life and Teeg could hear the technician clearing his throat.

            “Longing.”

      That caused a reaction. The Asset flinched, finally noticing the two men in the room. No, no this was wrong. Something was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be here. The Asset looked... broken. Lost. The word caused a flash of pain across his face and he growled.

            “Rusted.”

            “NO!” The Asset surged up from the ground, pushing the medical trolley out of his way in his desperation to get to the agents, to get them to stop talking. He only made it a few steps before Adam opened fire. Two rubber bullets hit the Asset square in the chest, powerful enough and painful enough to send him crashing to the ground with a cry. The fore of the impacting bullets caused a couple of seconds of muscle spasms where the Asset simply couldn’t draw breath. He choked, finally managing to drag in a gasp of air. He scrambled to turn back and pick himself up, but the seconds on his back and given Teeg’s all the time he needed to close the gap, turn on the baton and stab the weapon into the Asset’s side, frying him with a mind numbing voltage of electric current.

      An agonised screamed ripped from the Asset, his body going rigid as his muscles spasmmed and his arm struggled to communicate with the receptors along his spine.

            “Furnace.”

            “Hey,” Teegs called over his shoulder as he released the baton and watched the Asset squirm at his feet, struggling for breath, for sense in a world of hot pain, “read slower would ya? Gotta remind the dog of his place.”

“Then wipe him, and start over.” 

He knew what came next. Same as before. Compliant as they fit the mouthguard between his teeth, as the cold metal locks fastened around his body. If he fought, it was only worse. At some point in the endless years before, he’d learned that. It was easier if he was compliant. What reason did he have to fight, anyway? The machine would lower, pain would wrack his body, and in the next instant everything would be blank. Sometimes, there were flashes. He remembered cold. He remembered warmth, too, but he didn’t know why. Faces flickered like a movie reel off kilter. Pieces he could never fit together. 

But the man on the bridge stayed with him. 

I knew him.

It was from a mission. But that didn’t align with the emotions that face provoked. His missions were brutal efficiency. The man on the bridge was... different.

The chair laid back and he held that face in his mind, tried to memorize the details. It seemed important to remember. Maybe this one time, it would stay. His sucked in great breaths of air, preparing for the shocks. His mind couldn’t remember the pain, but his body did, and it involuntarily seized up. 

I knew him.

Electricity surged through his skull, and he screamed. The sound was muffled by the mouthguard. Every nerve was on fire, every cell. Everything but the pain disappeared, and he prayed it would kill him. Death would be such sweet relief. Just when he thought he could take no more, it all stopped. Like a switch had been flipped. 

Darkness. Murmuring voices. The Soldier blinked his eyes open. 

     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 …    what  once  was,  what  is  now …    the  growth  of  emotion,  evolution  of  touch.  the  rediscovery  of  intimacy.    there  is  only  ONE  person  left  in  this  world  james  barnes  trusts  to  be  VULNERABLE  with.  here  -  tangled  with  him,  eyes  aglow  with  stardust  and  body  warm  with  bliss,  that  is  what  he  is  -  vulnerable.    to  feel  -  is  to  be  vulnerable.    as  VIOLENT  as  his  existence  was  before  is  how  soft  it  is  now.  still,  there  are  days  when  he  finds  PAIN  easier  to  swallow  than  pleasure.      he  is  still  adjusting,  dealing  with  the  FALLOUT  of  hydra’s  cruelty  -  TOUCH  STARVED  and  yet   -   so  easily  overwhelmed  by  it.   the  throngs  of  pleasure  are  so  much  more ...  EVOCATIVE.  it  makes  him  dizzy  sometimes,  lightheaded.        sometimes  he  is  afraid  he  will  drift  away  completely  and  never  be  able  to  find  his  way  back.                       

     he  likes  his  hair  touched  though   ;;   likes  it  when  those  long,  ARTIST  fingers  scrape  and  weave  through  his  mane.         it  leaves  his  body  languid  and  heavy,  the  slow  rhythm  making  him  delightfully  drowsy.    he  cannot  claim  to  have  watched  more  than  ten  minutes  of  this  movie.    the  instant  steve  started  carding  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  buck  was  gone.  &&  when  those  delicate  hands  pull  away,  buck  is  quick  to  plead  for  more,  GREEDY.        he  is  still  getting  accustomed  to  that  too ...  asking  for  things  he  WANTS  without  flinching,  without  feeling  guilty.      he  is  rewarded  with  a  warm  chuckle  that  lights  a  fire  inside  his  chest.  fingers  return  and  he  hums,  soft  &&  happy.  

     when  warm  lips  press  against  the  skin  of  his  neck ...  well  that  -  that  does  something  else.  warmth  blooms  into  HEAT.  his  eyes  roll  back  &&  close,  so  that  he  can  shift  all  focus  to  his  sense  of  touch.  so  strange,  how  something  so  small  leaves  him  near  breathless.  his  heart  beats  a  little  heavier,  a  little  faster.  when  he  shifts,  turning  his  head  to  look  at  the  blonde,  his  eyes  are  heavy  lidded  -  drowsy  but  burning.  he  twists  his  body  a  little,  stretching  a  bit  closer,  tipping  his  head  up.    ❛  more ...  ❜    he  says  it  again,  voice  low   -   suggestive  and  so  close  to  steve’s  face,  the  warmth  of  their  breaths  mingle.  he  doesn’t  wait  this  time  though  for  steve  to  give...   instead,  bucky  boldly  TAKES,  lifting  his  chin  to  close  the  distance.         he  presses  hungry  lips  firmly  over  steve’s  soft  mouth  -  eyes  closing,  body  tingling  -  relishing  in  the  overwhelming  marvel  of  intimacy ...   

wanda was internally panicking, but the night had gone smoothly so far. delicate fingers clicked the lid of the take out container shut and she set the rest of her lo main aside, beaming a look towards steve. canting her head, she rested her chin in her hand, handing him a fortune cookie. 

❛ there is a similar piece i am in the process of restoring if this one interests you. ❜ she approached him quietly, setting aside the champagne that was offered to her just moments ago. stark had invited her to this evening’s event in honoring her for letting him buy the sculpture after several harsh declines. it was the first time he was unveiling it, and she wasn’t quite sure how long it would last considering the occasional violent outcomes of his parties. ❛ diana prince. and captain steven rogers, yes? ❜