#reaching new peaks I. coughs blood dies explodes. I have no idea what to do I'm sorry for asking for money but like this is miserable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yodawgiherd · 4 years

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Scars that time can't heal

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Rating: M Setting: A modern AU, an Ex-Soldier Mikasa dealing with her inner demons.

I've got this idea to do a short story in what is basically the setting of my main fic with just a few modifications. It's something new, and I would really love to hear what you guys think about it. If you like it, I might do a continuation, as this thing could certainly be expanded. Thanks a lot and Enjoy! :D

Lights. Voices. Pain.

Every breath Mikasa took prompted a thousand needles inside her to prick and tear, to create more and more of the suffering. She would cry if she could. She would scream if she could. But she couldn’t.

Mikasa couldn’t do anything.

They were taking her somewhere, formless faces and blurred figures, talking in voices that were drowned in the rush of blood in her ears. It wasn’t that hard to realize what was happening to her. Mikasa was dying, plain and simple.

A figure appeared to the right of her, catching up to the others, a face that seemed somewhat familiar. Could it be… ?

“Jean?”, Mikasa rasped, every syllable dearly paid for by more pain.

The figure leaned closer, revealing its face.

“Mikasa! Mikasa can you hear me?!”, his hand grasped hers, tightly squeezing the numb fingers, “Hang in there!”

She wanted to tell him to shut up, to just let her die in peace, but another coughing fit overcame her. The movement stopped. Hands lifted her for a moment before depositing the hurt soldier on a proper hospital bed, already smelling of someone else’s blood which soon mixed with the stench of her own, still gushing from the wounds on her body, leaking through the impromptu bandages. Mikasa could see Jean’s head moving from left to right as he looked around, desperate to find someone that would help her, but to no avail. She wasn’t that surprised, the sudden attack took them completely by surprise, catching the US military with their pants down. There must have been dozens of dead, hundreds of wounded, and Mikasa wasn’t that important anyway. Soon, she would be just another casualty of war.

Out of nowhere, another shadow fell over her, as gentle hands ghosted over the bandages.

“What happened?”, a new voice asked.

“A grenade, we didn’t see it coming. Exploded right next to us and….”, Jean’s response was rushed, but quite accurate, “Shrapnel tore into her, fragments…”

“God damn it,”, swore the new voice, “I’m not qualified for this, someone else has to…”

“I’ll take care of her.”

A new voice, young but somewhat rough. Mikasa couldn’t see the speaker, the only thing she could see was the burning tip of the cigarette in his mouth.

“You? Didn’t you hear the captain?”, the unqualified medic cut in, “You’ve been awake for over 24 hours, get some rest before you kill someone!”

“I said I’ll take care of her,”, said the cigarette, “Now either help me or get out of my way.”

The first shadow still lingered, not ready to give up.

“Listen, there’s no one else available to help her. Look at those wounds, if we wait, she’ll die.”, the rough voice dropped an octave, pleading, “Please, help me save her.”

“Fuck. FUCK. Fine!”, the first guy finally gave in, “What do you need me to do?”

“Take off her clothes, get some local anesthesia…”

“Local?”

“We can’t put her under, if she goes to sleep…”

“I won’t wake up.”, Mikasa finished for the rough voice, weakly.

Her head was swimming at this point, the only thing that was keeping her anchored in reality was Jean’s grip on her hand, feeling so warm against the coldness that began to spread its fingers through her body. The second shadow leaned over her, the burning cigarette tip bright as a sun.

“Hey there marine.”, said the rough voice, accompanied in the background by snipping of the scissors, as the other guy was working on removing the ruined remnants of Mikasa’s uniform, “What’s your name?”

Even saying her own name was a task that felt impossible.

“M-Mik…Mikasa.”, she finally pushed out. So tired.

“That’s a beautiful name, soldier. Can I drop the formalities and call you Mikasa?”

She nodded, her bloodied lips turning slightly up. It was funny, being talked to so formally at her own deathbed, but she really liked the way the cigarette pronounced her name. He didn’t choke on the second syllable, as a lot of people do, even Jean had trouble getting it correctly at the start. Not this guy though, whoever he was, he aced it the first time around.

“All right,” he continued, “Now do you know what’s going to happen?”

She swallowed, the coldness spreading further from her wounds. They used to burn, just fifteen minutes past, but the agony was gone, replaced by cold numbness. It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on.

“I’ll die.”, she stated.

The burning tip swung left and right, as whoever was smoking it shook his head.

“No, you’re not going to die, I won’t let you.”

There was a sharp smell of disinfectant in the air. A snap of latex, as the cigarette guy pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, saying something to his assistant before turning back towards her.

“I’ll pull those fragments out of you, sew you up, and you’ll be better than ever. All right?”

“You can’t… there’s too many.”

The rough voice didn’t even waver as he replied.

“I can do anything I want.”

The cigarette disappeared, replaced by a surgical mask most likely. An instrument exchanged between the two shadows, and a gleaming point neared one of the deep cuts on Mikasa’s body, ready to dig in in search of the invading metal. But before it could make contact, she spoke up again, in a small voice, the fear and lightheadedness taking over.

“Is it going to hurt?”

The instrument stopped, and even when Mikasa couldn’t see his face very clearly, she knew that he was looking straight into her eyes when he replied.

“Like hell.”

Then, the former cigarette smoker pushed the thing in, and the agony returned, most of the world disappearing behind the veil of Mikasa’s pained scream.

Eyes shooting open, she sat up, heart beating wildly in her chest. The way it hammered against her ribs was soon joined by the well-known hammering of a hangover, making Mikasa groan and massage her temples. Well, she wasn’t falling asleep again, that was for sure. Standing up from the bed her foot nicked the bottle next to the bed, empty thank god, and it whirled away before hitting the wall and remaining there, glistening in the moonlight. She could hear music, coming down from below, a certain disadvantage of living above a bar, but hey, she didn’t have to rent. Worth it. Hoping that the headache will recede soon, Mikasa set out for her bathroom, carefully finding her way between the heaps of clothing, empty bottles and other trash that she had to finally get rid of. Reaching the sink, she splashed her face, taking a moment after to look into the mirror.

A visage stared back at her. Pale skinned, boyish short dark hair matted by both sweat and water, dark circles underneath her eyes. Goddamn it, she really did look like shit. The nightmare still lingering in the back of her mind, she inspected the old scar beneath her eye, frowning at it. Everyone said that she was incredibly lucky, if that particular shrapnel fragment flew just a tad bit higher, she would have lost the eye. Lucky huh. Taking a step back, Mikasa knew what she will see but it was still a bitter pill to swallow.

What was merely a nightmare now was a reality, just a few years back. The scars were there, spread across her body, reminders of all the places where the fragments cut into her. She should have died there, on the table, bled out or something, but whoever that cigarette guy was saved her life, pulled her back from the dead. He was no magician though, and making the scars disappear was impossible. They were forever etched into her, a web across her skin, spread everywhere. Mikasa was not scarred only on her abdomen, but over her chest too, and the metal even cut into her legs, grazing the thighs. She liked saying that she came to terms with her injury, but sometimes it still saddened her, the permanent reminder of the explosion, destroying what could have been…

With a sneer, Mikasa turned away from the mirror. What a crybaby she was. Why would It matter that her body was scarred? It was only cosmetic, none of the fragments hit any important muscles or organs, her body was still in peak condition, if not too pleasant to look at. There was no point if thinking about it, she reminded herself, for what felt like a hundred time. It didn’t matter. It didn’t.

Returning to the bed, Mikasa checked the bedtime clock, seeing that there was still plenty of time before her training session. But as sleeping was not an option, she decided to just say fuck it and go anyway, get in a few hours of her own training before Louise comes in. After all, she did have the keys to the gym. Grabbing her leather jacket from where it lay on the only chair in the room, Mikasa took her bike keys and made her way out of the door. Passing the bar, she saw Jean leaning over the wood and talking to some girl with a huge grin on his face, handling it perfectly as usual.

It was a risky idea that they had, pulling all of their money together and buying this place after leaving the army could bite them in the ass, and it was purely Jean’s doing that it didn’t. While Mikasa was only the initial investor, she didn’t do shit for the bar, while Jean was the owner, barman, waiter, accountant, and everything that the establishment required. He handled it all on his own and literally carried the place on his back without a word of complaint. Honestly, he was the best business partner Mikasa could ever ask for.

The gym was exactly as dark as one might expect at three in the morning, and the parking lot in front of it nicely empty. Stopping her bike at the best one, closest to the entrance, Mikasa once again realized that there were still no designated places for the staff. She really should talk to Levi about it.

“You were so amazing! You did like boom, left hook, right hook, and that kick!”

“Louise, please, can you focus on your set?”

“Oh, right sorry!”

Rubbing her forehead, Mikasa watched the younger girl struggle with the weight, doing her best to push it upwards. Being a personal trainer to Louise could be mentally taxing, but she paid so well that Mikasa was willing to put up with it. They came into contact in the weirdest possible way too. After coming back from the war, scarred in both mind and body by the experience, Mikasa had certain anger inside her, one that desperately needed to be let out. And punching the bag didn’t quite soothe her. Yet before she could do something she would come to regret later, Levi approached her with a proposition. There were underground fights taking place in the city, mafia organized, where anyone could enter and beat his opponent nearly to death. Levi took part in those too, back when he was younger and desperately needed the cash to keep both himself and Mikasa out of poverty, and now offered the same chance to his sister. In short, she took it.

Mikasa was doing martial arts basically ever since she learned how to walk, desperate to protect her remaining family after the tragic demise of her parents. Under her brother’s tutelage, she became quite the menace, a fact that came in handy during the fitness tests in the army. Now in these illegal fights, she could finally fully unleash herself. They kept coming at her, because who could ever lose to a girl, right? And she kept beating them, one after the other. It felt great, it allowed her to let out some steam, and it paid well. The dream scenario, really. Those fights were also where she met Louise, her adoring fan.

Louise was a spoiled rich girl desperate to keep herself entertained. She tried everything, every drug, every kind of alcohol, every guy or girl that would go to bed with her. But none of these filled the void inside her chest. That was until she caught wind of the underground fights and went to see them for herself. As luck would have, right the first fight Louise attended was Mikasa’s, and ever since the girl saw her knock the lights out of a hulking beast of a man about three heads taller than her, she fell in love. First thing in the morning, Louise tracked Mikasa to Levi’s gym where she trained and begged her for so long until the former soldier caved in and agreed to train her. That was their partnership. Louise attended all Mikasa’s matches, tirelessly cheered her on, and had personal training sessions with her, endlessly talking about the fights her idol won.

“Do you have any action today? Or tomorrow? Or this week?”, Louise was basically bouncing on her toes with excitement, her sweaty face giving away just how much she loved watching Mikasa fight.

“I don’t think so,”, the raven shrugged, “Gotta check my email after we’re done here and…”

“You have to let me know if there is anything. You will, right? Please?”

She sighed.

“Of course I will, don’t worry. If it wasn’t for you, who would hand me my towel after a match, right?”

How such a simple compliment could make Louise smile so brightly was a mystery to Mikasa, but she had no intention of bursting her trainee’s bubble of happiness.

The bar was basically empty when Mikasa came back from the gym, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Most of their business happened in the late hours anyway. But how Jean managed to look so rested and ready while being up to the early hours of the morning, now that was not normal. He greeted her with a radiant smile, moving behind the bar with practiced movements. Jean made it look so easy.

“How was your fan meeting today?”

“Grand as always. How’s the bar holding up?”

“Well, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s someone special today. Your six .”

Carefully, Mikasa turned her head to the indicated direction, seeing a man sitting by himself. She couldn’t see much of him, just a long hair tied back into a ponytail and his broad back. Looking back at Jean, Mikasa raised an eyebrow.

“And he’s special because….?”

“Because I believe he’s just your type.”, the barman gave her a wink, “Why don’t you head over and talk to him, he looks so sad, sitting there all on his own…”

“Jean.”, Mikasa sighed, “Could you stop trying to hook me up with people?”

“Why should I? Mika, you’ve been alone for years, why don’t you live up a little?”

She frowned at him.

“I do live it up.”

“Getting drunk by yourself every night doesn’t count.”, Jean reached over the bar, putting a hand on her shoulder, “You’re my best friend, a great girl too, and it would make me so happy if I’d see you smile for once.”

“Jean…”, she drawled, but he didn’t let her finish.

“I know a girl who needs some fun when I see one and take this from a guy you used to date, you definitely do.”, he squeezed her shoulder, “Just go talk to him, okay? And if he’s an asshole, then well….”

Letting go of her, Jean flexed his impressive musculature.

“I’ll set him right.”

Mikasa couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“You think I can’t handle him on my own?”

“Please, I’ve seen you fight. I know that you can kick anyone’s ass.”, he said, “I’m just saying that should you need backup, I’ll be right there.”

She knew that Jean wouldn’t stop nagging at her until she gave in, so Mikasa decided to just skip the persuasion phase and do it. Pushing back from the bar, Mikasa smiled at him.

“Thanks, Jean, I appreciate it.”

Walking over to the guy, Mikasa felt a tingle of nervousness up her spine. How does one flirt again?

“Hey.”

Nailed it.

The man looked up, his startlingly green eyes boring into her.

“Hey yourself.”, his gaze traveled all over her, settling back on her face, “Can I help you?”

Riiiiiight.

“I… Uh… I mean….”

You know what, Jean was an asshole. Luckily, before she could embarrass herself further, he offered her an out.

“Can I buy you a drink?”, he asked.

Accepting the invitation, Mikasa sat down, finally taking a good look at him.

“Name’s Eren,”, he said, “If you care to know.”

That made her smile.

“I do. Mine’s Mikasa, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Mikasa.”

He had a nice way of pronouncing her name, the way it rolled off his tongue reminded her of someone, but for the love of God couldn’t remember who. With one shot inside her and one more on the way, Mikasa once again picked her brain for a line, something that would say that she’s interested in the guy. She was, to be honest, he had a nice face, pleasing if a bit raspy voice, and from what she could see he was rather well-built too. And the eyes, Mikasa really liked the eyes, the emeralds made her feel all giddy inside.

“So…”, she cleared her throat, “What’s a good-looking guy like yourself doing here all on your own?”

Eren’s face split into a huge grin.

“The delivery of that was amazing, you do that often?”

“Eeeh, not really…”

The bastard had the audacity to be smug.

“Oh? I couldn’t say.”, he said, the irony oozing from his words.

No matter how awkward she was, however, Eren didn’t seem to mind, and their conversation flowed. Somehow, they managed to completely avoid talking about themselves, and even when it was dark outside and the bar began to fill, the only thing they knew was each other’s names.

“I hate to be that guy,”, Eren said, looking over her shoulder, “But I have to ask, is the barman your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?”, following Eren’s gaze, Mikasa saw Jean cleaning the glasses with the most innocent expression he ever had. “No, not that. He’s my ex.”

“And you parted on good terms?”

“The best. Why?”

“Well, he keeps throwing glances our way, so I’m just wondering if I’m not hitting on someone’s girl.”

“Oh, so you’re hitting on me now?”

A small smile appeared on Eren’s face.

“What if I am?”

Instead of an answer, Mikasa returned his smile, downing her shot right after. The place was popular, and they were quite a few drinks deep at this point, so it was getting increasingly hard to understand what Eren was saying. It was annoying.

“How about we take this upstairs.”, Mikasa suggested, “I live right above the bar and…”

The realization of what she just suggested struck her, and she was left staring at Eren’s face, who looked back at her with an unchanging expression.

“Are you sure about that?”, he said, slowly, making sure that she understands.

She did, but no reason why to back down occurred to her. Jean was right, after all, she would like to have some fun.

“Yes.”, she held his gaze without flinching, “Yes I am.”

Seemingly on board, Eren nodded, finished his drink and stood up.

“We better get going then.”

It felt rather unreal, leading him up the stairs. The last glimpse of the bar showed her Jean, who was giving her a thumbs up, making her frown at him. The key jingled in the lock as Mikasa pushed the door open, silently cursing in her mind the fact that she still hasn’t cleaned up her apartment. Luckily, Eren didn’t seem much interested in the place, as his hands almost immediately found her hips and then he was kissing her, her lips hungry on hers. Judging from how quickly he coaxed her mouth open, Eren was an experienced kisser, and his tongue knew what to do. Mikasa moaned weakly, her legs feeling like jelly, drunk on both alcohol and him. Fuck, she really wanted this, needed this. But when Eren’s hand went to her shirt, trying to lift it up, the sirens went off in her head.

No, she couldn’t let him remove it, he would see the scars if he did. And there was no way he wouldn’t get disgusted by what she was hiding. With a shove, stronger than intended, Mikasa pushed him away, much to Eren’s surprise.

“What is…?”

She didn’t let him finish, turning around instead and bending over the foot of the bed, offering him her backside. Face down, ass up, that’s what men liked anyway.

“Do me like this.”, she ordered, looking over her shoulder, “Come on.”

It was a damn sexy ass, Eren had to say.

“Yeah…”, he nodded, quickly catching on “Okay…”

With their combined efforts, they undid Mikasa’s belt pushing down her pants and underwear just enough. After that, Eren was quick to find a condom in his wallet, pulling down his zipper and putting it on with practiced movement. He really was no beginner in this. Not that Mikasa cared, however, all she craved was to feel that nice, big cock inside her, so wiggling her hips, she all but purred at him.

“Are you gonna stare all evening or are you finally going to fuck me?”

Eren chuckled behind her, his hand moving over her exposed firm flesh.

“With an ass like this, only a fool wouldn’t take that invitation.”, the thrust took her by surprise, as Eren buried his whole impressive length inside her in one move, forcing her to cry out. His mouth at her ear, he growled.

“And I’m no fool.”

Quickly overwhelmed, Mikasa couldn’t do much, only moan and fist the bedding as Eren fucked her, hard and deep, her eyes rolling back. It was too much, too much, and her world was coming apart at the seams. Demonstrating a surprising amount of self-control, Eren always slowed down when he was close, mindful of her pleasure, a trait not that common during a one-night stand. It gave her ample time to build herself up, writing around on the bed while he kept thrusting at a steady pace, fully in control.

“You’re so fucking tight, it feels so good,”, he whispered into her ear, his voice deep and primal, “I love the way your pussy massages my cock, baby.”

His tempo sped up again, the sound of skin slapping skin mixing with the increasingly loud moans he forced from her. Muscles winding tighter and tighter, Mikasa was on the brink, just waiting to be pushed over.

“That’s right..”, he growled, pinning her down to the bed, “Cum for me! I want you to squirt all over my cock.”

As if her body followed his orders, Mikasa came, muffling her scream into the bedding. And still he wouldn’t stop, fucking her through her orgasm, milking all the pleasure from her quivering, dripping pussy. She was completely done, feeling fucked beyond imagining when Eren couldn’t hold back anymore, coming inside the rubber with another groan. Quick to pull out, Mikasa whimpered a bit at the sudden feeling of emptiness. She was slumped on the bed now, nothing holding her up, warm and completely satisfied, much more content than she felt in a long, long time.

Eren was moving around, discarding the condom and zipping up his pants, suddenly restless. If Mikasa didn’t have her face squished in the bed, she would see that his face was filled with something close to regret, a clarity that wasn’t there before.

“I… I think I should go..”, he said, eyeing her fallen form.

Mikasa shrugged, not really caring anymore. Tired, exhausted by his intensity, by how well he fucked her, she was sure that this night’s sleep would be peaceful, the nightmares wouldn’t come. Mikasa got what she wanted, and the desired fun was much, much better than she ever expected, positively blowing her mind. She used him, more or less, used this random guy for her pleasure, and now that he’s done his thing the fact that he was leaving on his own was amazing. Didn’t even have to throw him out.

“Just close the door behind you.”, Mikasa yawned, turning around on the bed and pulling the covers over her body. She could remove her clothes later, once she will be alone and there would be no chance of Eren seeing her scars. No need to scare the guy, he served her well.

“Right… I…”, a sigh, followed by silence. Whatever he wanted to say, Eren ultimately decided against it, and hearing the click of the door, Mikasa knew that she’s alone.

Again.

#snk #fanfic #eremika #oneshot #modern au #soldiers

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hddnone · 5 years

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Kinktober Day #17 - Masturbation

Bucky x Tony (ish)

This is late because it wasn’t actually finished on day 17, whoops! Warning: Consent issues - ghost!Bucky possesses Tony’s body and masturbates with it.

“A friend? Steve you have a friend!”

Bucky cheered as Steve walked in the door with someone behind him. The ‘someone’ was another man, a short brown-haired man with bright brown eyes and a curious gaze.

That gaze didn’t see Bucky, but then it wouldn’t. Steve didn’t see Bucky either. Bucky was a ghost and hadn’t been seen or heard since the day he died - decades ago. He was used to it, though he still enjoyed participating in conversations.

“You live here. It’s… nice,” the man said.

Bucky frowned as Steve laughed.

The house wasn’t nice. It was run down and dirty. Steve tried to keep it clean, but he was a busy man. This house had been the best that Sarah Rogers could afford, and Steve had inherited it after her death. There were too many leaks, too many holes, and too much history and dirt embedded into the place for it to feel clean.

Still, Bucky was offended. He’d been living in the house for over a hundred years, and he was very attached to it. The Rogers had done their best, and as far as Bucky was concerned their best was damn good.

“Don’t lie, Tony. I warned you that it was the opposite of that mansion you call a house.”

Bucky ran cold. He wanted Steve to have friends - Steve was lonely. But Bucky didn’t like the sound of rich friends. Rich friends meant Steve had nicer places to stay, which meant he wouldn’t be home - and Bucky liked Steve. Bucky wanted Steve to be happy, but he wanted Steve happy here.

“It’s not a lie,” Tony protested. “Look at all this potential!”

“You’re not destroying my house and replacing it,” Steve warned.

Bucky’s rage descended, and there was a cold breeze through the house. Destroy his house? No, no this friend of Steve’s was not welcome in Bucky’s home.

Tony shivered, feeling the effects even if not seeing the cause.

“Even if you don’t have heat? Kidding, kidding - seriously, you think the worst. I’m not going to destroy your house. It’s got good structure.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Bucky frowned but stopped calling the wind. His house did have good structure. He eyed this Tony, friend of Steve’s. He would keep watch over this man to be sure that Tony did not try any tricks.

“Alright, I have to be honest. I have no idea how your heater is working,” Tony said as he scratched his head.

Steve shrugged. “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.”

“But it is broken,” Tony insisted. “Steve, it’s really, really broken. It should not work.”

Steve shrugged again. “It works.”

“But it shouldn’t!”

Bucky grinned. He liked confusing people.

“Steve, your electricity -”

“Leave it, Tony. The lights turn on, I paid the bill.”

“But these wires!”

Bucky cackled.

Bucky was intrigued by Steve’s friend Tony. Bucky watched as Steve set Tony up in a guest room that doubled as an art studio. There were paintbrushes and jars and canvases everywhere, and Bucky tried hard to contain his energy so he didn’t accidentally knock anything over.

He tried not to come in this room too often, usually, because once he accidentally tipped a can of bright red paint onto a canvas that Steve had just finished. But Tony made Bucky curious, and so Bucky followed this time.

When Steve left for his own room, Tony poked around at a few of the canvases. Bucky frowned and called up a draft. He kept the force gentle so he didn’t disturb Steve’s stuff, but made it icy cold so that Tony would leave things alone.

It worked - Tony dived for the bed and burrowed under the covers.

“I like you Steve but tomorrow I am fixing your damn heat and all these blasted cracks in the windows and walls and whatever the hell else there is.”

Bucky was torn between being pleased that Tony wanted to help Steve and offended that Tony thought the house needed fixing.

Well, maybe the house needed a bit of fixing. It would be nice if Bucky didn’t have to spend so much of his energy to keep the heater and electricity on. He had finally gotten the hang of it - the heat didn’t fluctuate and the lights didn’t flicker - though it would be nice to relax. Bucky worried a lot. Steve scraped all he could to be able to keep his family’s house, and there wasn’t much left over. If Tony could help…

Well, Tony wasn’t so bad. Bucky thought he was cute, actually. Tony’s brown eyes, that twist to his mouth, the curve of his jaw - Bucky reached out as if touch.

Tony shivered as Bucky’s fingers skittered along the skin. Tony wouldn’t feel it as a touch, Bucky knew, but Tony would feel something - Bucky could never quite figure out what it was. A blast of ice? A sparkle of electricity? An ache of emptiness? Bucky stroked again, down Tony’s neck, and Tony squirmed.

Bucky stepped back, but Tony kept wiggling. Then Tony tipped his head back against the pillow and sighed, relaxed.

Tony’s hand shifted back and forth in rhythm underneath the blanket.

Bucky couldn’t flush, but he would’ve if he still had blood. He’d never gotten that response when he touched someone.

The wind howled for a moment, Tony burying himself under the covers, before Bucky got ahold of himself again.

He had forgotten about this kind of thing. It had been so long since he’d felt the urge, and he’d never peeped on Steve. Steve was like his brother.

Tony was not like Bucky’s brother. Tony was new, and exciting, and hopefully tomorrow Tony was going to be helpful, and tonight - tonight Tony was stroking himself off, and tonight Bucky wanted to know what it felt like.

Bucky licked his lips, though he couldn’t feel the taste.

He stood over Tony. Tony’s eyes were closed, though it didn’t matter much - Tony couldn’t see Bucky anyway. Bucky reached out. He’d done this before, when Steve was younger. He thought he still remembered how to do it.

Before, Bucky had possessed for a noble cause. Steve had gone exploring in the attic, and the dust had activated Steve’s asthma. Steve coughed and coughed and coughed, crawling away and tumbling down the stairs, gasping for air, but couldn’t quite get his breath back. Bucky had been there, had taken over Steve’s body and forced it to breathe properly until Steve could do it on his own.

Now though, Bucky had no heroic intentions. He just wanted to touch himself again, wanted to know what that felt like.

Bucky fell into Tony, diving into Tony’s body and filling each crack and crevice until Tony was brimming with Bucky instead. There was a giant gasp of Tony/Bucky’s chest, and then Bucky blinked his eyes open to the ceiling.

Bucky was so warm. He’d forgotten so much - how warm humans were, how sheets felt against his skin, what it was to have a heartbeat pounding in his chest. So much life, teeming in him, and Bucky thought about dancing, thought about talking, thought about traveling -

His hand squeezed and Bucky groaned. He had a cock, one hard and aching, in hand, and that’s really what he wanted. He wanted to stroke himself off and come, wanted to remember how that feels. That’s why he’s here.

Bucky gripped himself and tugged, mouth falling open in a gasp. Sparks of heat pooled in his hips, and he thrust up into his next stroke. He relearned what he liked, what he enjoyed. He explored and touched and teased himself as he rose higher and higher toward that peak.

Oh, he remembered now. He remembered how much he used to like this when he was alive.

Bucky’s chest heaved for breath as he climbed and climbed and climbed. It was like his first time all over again, discovering what it was to touch himself. Heat rushed through him, racing along as his heart pumped blood and his lungs breathed air. He could touch, he could feel and he felt - Bucky exploded with sensation. He cried out with Tony’s voice as he went somewhere, somewhere high and flying and so damn good.

Coming down was like sinking into the warmth of Tony’s body all over again. Bucky felt his body relax against the sheets and sighed.

He didn’t mind being a ghost, didn’t regret not finishing the cross over to the other side - but there was something about being human. Bucky felt a tug of wistfulness. He could stay. He had enough energy to keep ahold of Tony for awhile longer. He was certainly tempted.

Bucky clung to the warmth for a few moments longer, then gently extracted himself from Tony’s body.

Tony blinked, eyes heavy, then dropped off into sleep even as his eyebrows remained furrowed in confusion.

Bucky sighed, though he no longer felt the air passing through his throat. He’d lived his life, and he would let Tony live his. Besides, Tony was the one who was needed to fix Steve’s heater and the electricity tomorrow.

Maybe Tony would come by more often in the future. After all, Steve needed more friends.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #ghost bucky #dub-con #kinktober #megan writes things

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