What is all this shark au stuff? Like my feed is being blown up and where can I find this fic?
I haven’t written it yet! Basically, it started with this post after I was describing fish shifter to an anon who asked and because i haven’t written shifter!tae yet i decided he would be a shark shifter.
this post had me revealing shark tae out of tags and then from my collage and then tags explaining bits of the plot, I continued to stock the fire.
Sorry i know you gang are busy but I've been through all the tags I can think of on AO3 and I still can't find this fic. Its from Rumlow's pov and I remember Steve getting captured by hydra and they bring the WS to have sex with him while they watch but they and Steve don't know it's bucky. Steve struggles until bucky takes his mask off and then he gets really into it once he realizes who it is, to the confusion of the hydra agents. It had a pretty comedic tone too, despite the subject matter
We’ve featured this fic recently in reply to another ask, could it be:
Rogers has got his game face on, staring up at the ceiling like he’s just taking a break or some shit, chilling before the next mission. Fucking peaceful. Nothing about that expression says that he’s been stripped naked and restrained, that he’s surrounded by a pack of guys that are just fucking slobbering over him like hungry wolves circling their prey.
The Soldier stares flatly and Rumlow holds up his hands. They’re on the same team and he doesn’t want any trouble. He’s fine with seconds provided he gets to watch. As scary as the Winter Soldier is, he’s still one fine piece of genetic engineering shaped with hard training. Rumlow is A-okay with watching the guy get his rocks off in Captain America. “You go right ahead,” Rumlow says. “Be my guest. Ain’t nobody going to stop you.” In fact, Rumlow’s looking forward to this now that he thinks about it, seeing the epitome of Hydra, with his Russian branded arm, fucking the symbol of American pride.
Notes: I’m sorry for the pain I’ll cause. This was on my original blog, and I’m bringing it back as the first in a series of reposts to get all my work on this blog. This is one of my favorite fics I’ve written.
She’d trade Colorado if he’d take her with him
Closes the door before the winter lets the cold in,
And wonders if her love is strong enough to make him stay,
She’s answered by the tail lights shining through the window pane
“You’re always leaving Benny! You’re always the one that gets to walk away. Do you realize how lonely it gets, this house we built together? How lonely it is when my husband is gone? Benny, I love you. I need you around. Please, stay. Or don’t, and take me with you.” You’re pleading, tears in your eyes and you can see the pain in Benny’s expression as he cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.
“Chere, I love you, you know I do. But you know I have to go. Next time.” The promise of next time is an empty one. You both know he’ll never stay, not for long and he’ll never take you with him.
You turn away from him just as the tears begin to fall. “You’ll never change Benny Lafitte. It’s who you are, your curse. Our curse,” you whisper brokenly. Benny reaches for you but you move away and his hand drops to his side. With one last look at you, he shoulders his duffle and walks out, the front door clicking shut with echoed familiarity.
You tell yourself that you won’t watch him drive away this time, but not seconds later, you’re at the window, hand against the glass and tears streaming down your face as you watch the red tail lights disappear around the bend.
He said I wanna see you again
But I’m stuck in colder weather
Maybe tomorrow will be better
Can I call you then?
She said you’re ramblin’ man
You ain’t ever gonna change
You got a gypsy soul to blame
And you were born for leavin’.
Your phone rings right on time, and when you answer, it’s him. “I won’t be home tonight chere, I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon. I can’t wait to see you.”
You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head, though he can’t see. “That might be true right now, but Benny, you come back for a few days then leave. It’s what you do, who you are. Don’t feel bad, babe. Just come home safe when you can.” Your voice is tired, and Benny winces.
“I’m sorry sug. I promise, it’ll be soon. I gotta go now. I love you.” The phone disconnects before you can say the words back, and you let it flop on the couch, staring blankly at the television in front of you, your brain not processing what your eyes are seeing.
The winter wind whips around outside, the branches of a tree hitting the window. The only sounds you hear are the lonely howling of the wind and the scratching of the branches on the glass, resonating with the emptiness growing inside you.