#⁂ ･ﾟ: i feel more free than i have in years‚ six feet in the ground ➛ answered

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

"Doomsday" by Lizzy McAlpine is Monty's song. Argue with the wall

[bravevolunteer]

🫵 . eat these Now 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

"WHAT THE FUC—" He screeches, suddenly a few feet back from where he was just a second ago. "I mean— no??? What? They're bees."

[heich0e]

ok what if i listened to doomsday by lizzie mcalpine and thought about eren and got upset. what then?

[polycashton]

May 2, 2023

[vunblr]

Fangs and Spells

Pairing: Worgen!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Soft-dom!Bucky. Possessive!Bucky.

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

Word Count: About 12k.

Notes: Ok, this one is... heated, I'm sorry beforehand (not).

Worgen=Werewolf. I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for 15 years, and even though life keeps me away, I’m always eager to return. That said, you don’t need to have played WoW to enjoy this story (though if you have, feel free to comment!).

The golden expanse of Westfall stretched endlessly beneath a bruised sky, and the faint scent of rain hung in the air. Rolling grain fields, left untended for far too long, waved like restless ghosts in the wind. To the south of Moonbrook, jagged cliffs met the turbulent sea, its waves crashing against the rocks with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fury.

It wasn’t an inviting place, not anymore. The days of bountiful harvests and tight-knit farming communities were long gone, stolen by bandits, gnolls, and worse. The remaining folk clung stubbornly to their land, driven by defiance and desperation. And if you asked them, the worgen prowling over from Duskwood to raid the struggling riverside farms were on top of the offender's list.

Near the cliff's edge, a small clearing hosted a half-pitched tent flapping uselessly in the rising wind. A warrior with a scowl etched deep into his face knelt beside it, hammering a stake into the rocky ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Standing a few feet away, a mage held the sagging canvas taut, glaring daggers at him.

"You had one job, Buck," she bit out, exasperated as the wind tugged at her robes.

“The idiot deserved it, and you know it,” he muttered, not bothering to look up.

She let out a humorless laugh, sharp enough to cut through the whistling wind. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean you had to snap in the middle of the inn. For Light’s sake, Bucky, all you had to do was keep your temper in check. We were finally about to get a decent night’s sleep. But no, you had to let your claws show.”

His lip curled, and hint of a snarl escaped his throat before he caught himself. “The bastard invited you to ‘polish his greatsword’ while groping himself under the table. What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing! Nothing would’ve been perfect. I could’ve frozen his excuse of a dick and left him weeping into his ale. Then we could’ve stayed, and maybe even conned him into buying an overpriced healing potion for his bruised ego since there isn’t a decent merchant in this God-forgotten place. But no, you just had to make it personal.”

Bucky let out a huff, standing to stretch his shoulders. The motion pulled his vest taut, and her eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments before she caught herself and snapped her gaze back to the tent. He mumbled under his breath, “He had it coming.”

She didn’t let him off the hook. “Please. You just took the opportunity to vent because Steve sent us to kill nagas on the beach. And you hate the coast because when you shift, the sand gets into your fur and other places you don’t-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, waving her off with a sharp motion and an uncharacteristic hint of color in his cheeks. “Maybe that had something to do with it. But still, the bastard deserved it.”

She smirked, pulling the canvas tighter over the flimsy frame of the tent. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.”

He huffed again, crossing his arms, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.

“Just... remember where we are,” she advised softly, "This isn’t Dalaran or some other cultivated place. These farmers deal with the Duskwood worgens six days a week lately. They don’t believe -or care- that there’s a way for your kind to regain their humanity."

He stiffened slightly at her words. She regretted saying them the moment they left her mouth, but he didn’t snap back. Instead, he shifted his weight, avoiding her gaze entirely.

"We got lucky you only half-shifted, and the owner just asked us to leave instead of raising some kind of alarm."

“Don’t fool yourself,” he muttered. “He didn’t call on us because he knows we’re here to deal with the nagas.”

“Maybe,” she allowed with a slight shrug. “But that’s not the point.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as the first fat drops of rain began to patter against the canvas.

Her voice softened slightly as she bent to secure the last corner of the tent, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Look, I appreciate what you did in some way, but you usually let me handle this kind of thing. The last couple of days, though… you’ve been broodier and grumpier than usual, and that’s saying something. This isn’t just about the beach, is it?”

He grunted, keeping his eyes on the stakes. “You’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve just forgotten my charming personality since it’s been a month since our last quest together.”

She quirked an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms as the rain dripped from the edge of her hood. “Thanks to your charming personality, almost no one in the guild wants to team up with you unless we’re raiding. And its why Steve pairs me with you, because apparently, I can ‘handle’ you.”

Bucky squinted up at her, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah,” she continued, folding her arms tighter as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “So believe me when I say you’re ‘Buckier’ than usual right now.”

He straightened, looming over her slightly, and let out a quiet huff. “Think what you want,” he muttered, brushing past her to retrieve his bedroll from their supplies.

She wasn’t wrong, and he hated how much her observation rattled him. Worse, he hated how easily she could unravel the mask he wore, the one that kept everyone else at arm’s length. But he couldn’t explain why, not without revealing more than he was willing to.

He should’ve seen it coming. Every Gilnean, given their worgen blood, knew what it felt like, that slow-burning tension building incrementally until it exploded into something primal and impossible to ignore. His rut came like clockwork every year, and when it did, he disappeared from the radar, holed up in some remote spot until it passed. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

This time, though, Steve had insisted the naga situation couldn’t wait. The bounty was too big, the stakes too high, and Bucky, hadn’t argued. He’d thought he had more time before his hormones kicked in. He’d been so wrong. And now? Sharing a flimsy tent with her and her sharp tongue? It was like throwing oil on a fire.

He glanced at her, and his gaze lingered longer than it should have. She was bent over the supplies, muttering under her breath as she organized their gear. The damp fabric of her robes clung to her frame, outlining curves he’d tried not to notice since… well, he couldn’t remember when it started.

He’d been drawn to her for longer than he cared to admit, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started. Maybe it was her sharp wit, the way she never backed down from him, or the way she smiled at him when he wasn’t ready for it. Maybe it was just the way she treated him, like he was more than just a worgen with a bad attitude.

Whatever it was, it didn’t help now. Not when every glance, every stray brush of her hand, set his nerves alight and his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.

“You’re quiet,” she said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Nothing to say,” he muttered, unrolling his bedroll and laying it out on the ground.

“Uh-huh,” she replied with skepticism clear in her tone. She didn’t press further, though, for which he was grateful. Instead, she settled onto her own bedroll.

The rain drummed steadily against the canvas above them, a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the storm brewing inside him. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the heat in his veins to subside.

He just had to get through this. The nagas wouldn’t take more than a day or two to deal with, and then he could disappear before she noticed anything was off.

He hoped.

------

Maybe pitching the tent near the treeline by the rift hadn’t been their most brilliant idea. Sure, on paper, it seemed logical, far enough from the coast to avoid naga and murloc patrols, gnoll bands, Defias stragglers, and those damn coyotes. But the coastline's wind and chill seeped through their tent's flimsy fabric, turning the night into a teeth-chattering endurance test.

It wasn’t a problem for him. His worgen nature granted him a resilience she could only envy, but she was clearly freezing. He could hear the faint clatter of her teeth every now and then, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

Both of them were awake, though for different reasons.

“Bucky,” she whispered, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain.

He didn’t answer, hoping she’d think he was asleep and leave him alone. She knew how hard rest was for him, how much effort it took to him to conceal just a couple of hours of sleep.

“Bucky,” she tried again, her voice sharper this time. “I know you’re awake.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark. “You can’t see a thing. How do you know?”

“Pfft. Because if you were asleep, you’d be snoring.”

“I don’t-”

“Like a cute little pig,” she added, cutting him off with an audible smirk.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose. Maybe he did. How would he know? He didn’t exactly stick around for morning conversations after his usual flings, and no one had ever mentioned it before.

“Well, what is it?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m cold,” she admitted.

Oh, he knew where this was going.

“I didn’t pack for a quest in Northrend,” she continued, her tone edged with frustration, “and I’m freezing my ass off. Do your thing.”

He stiffened, dread settling low in his stomach. “It’s not that cold,” he dismissed, turning onto his side and hoping she’d drop it.

“Don’t be an ass,” she shot back, shifting to face him. “You know it is, and we could’ve been warm and cozy in the tavern right now if not for your macho display earlier.”

His lips twitched into a snarl before he smoothed his expression. “I’m not shifting.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, her breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. “You’ve done it before.”

“That was different, we were really in Northrend,” he grunted.

She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened a little. “I’m freezing, Buck. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did not. Please.”

Her tone made him pause, wavering his internal resistance. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t fair. Her scent was already messing with his focus enough, and now she wanted to press against him for warmth?

“Fine,” he ground out.

She hummed in approval as he shifted with practiced ease. He took off his vest and his bones cracked and muscles rippled, becoming larger, thick dark fur covered his body and deathly claws grew on his hands. He didn’t dare to meet her gaze as she scooted closer, curling her smaller frame into his side.

“See? Not so bad,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest while she poked at his snout. “Warm and cozy. You’re practically a luxury fur rug.”

His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through the scowl he’d carefully crafted. “Glad I could be of service,” he muttered dryly.

She snorted softly, the sound more endearing than he’d ever admit. “Don’t act like you’re suffering. You’re just grumpy because I called you out.”

“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with you,” he retorted, but the words lacked venom.

She didn’t reply immediately, and he thought she might’ve finally fallen asleep. But then, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“For what it’s worth, thanks, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, tightening his jaw as he tried not to focus on how perfectly she fit against him. Her scent -warm and familiar- filled his senses, sending a deep, instinctual thrum through his veins.

This was going to be a long night.

------

The night dragged on, and though she moved only a couple of times, it was enough to drive him mad. Normally, her restless shifting wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, with his traitorous body on high alert and her nestled against him, it was sheer torment.

At some point, she settled in just the wrong -or perhaps right- position. Her back molded to his chest, her softer form impossibly close. His body reacted before his brain could catch up, and before he knew it, his arm was slung possessively around her waist.

And she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned into him, her unconscious search for warmth becoming his greatest torture. When her hips shifted slightly, her rear brushing against his growing arousal, Bucky clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His instincts roared, the part of him tied to his worgen blood demanding he take what was so temptingly close. His hand twitched against her waist, his claws threatening to pierce the fabric of her robe as he fought the overwhelming urge to act. He bit down on the snarl building in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.

He closed his eyes, his breath was shallow and uneven as the storm outside raged on. This wasn’t him. No matter what his instincts tried to tell him, he wasn't an animal. She trusted him, and saw him as more than the beast he sometimes feared he was. He wouldn’t betray that, no matter how much his body protested.

When the first hints of dawn painted the horizon, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, doing his best not to disturb her sleep. He draped his mantle over her before slipping out of the tent into the cold rain.

-----

When she woke, the patter of rain against the canvas was the first thing she noticed. Then the weight of his cloak over her shoulders. She blinked, groggy, and glanced around the empty tent.

“Figures,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Shivering slightly, she wrapped herself tighter in the mantle. It smelled like him, a mix of forest, leather, and something she could only describe as uniquely Bucky. She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and began rummaging through their supplies. He might be gruff and impossible, but he always made sure she was taken care of, and she had to admit she liked it. It didn’t take much to guess where he’d gone, either scouting or standing under a tree somewhere, brooding and keeping watch.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood at the edge of the clearing, soaked to the bone. He barely noticed the cold, his mind was too preoccupied with wrestling his instincts back under control. His claws flexed against the damp bark of a nearby tree, and he exhaled slowly. Her scent still clung to his body, haunting and maddening. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension to leave his body.

“She’s your teammate, not your mate,” he muttered under his breath, the words as much a reminder as a warning.

But no amount of logic could shake the truth he’d been denying for far too long. She wasn’t just a teammate, not to him. And the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.

------

Four times.

Four times Bucky had to jerk off and relieve himself before he felt remotely human, or as human as someone like him could feel. By the time he returned to the tent, the rain had lessened, though his damp hair clung to his forehead and his shirtless torso glistened from the early morning mist.

Inside, she was sitting cross-legged with her bag open beside her. She barely looked up when he ducked inside, muttering a gruff, “Morning.”

Her eyes flickered to him, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Morning. Glad you shifted back; otherwise, the wet dog smell would cling to everything.” She tossed him a magic-infused bun with a wink.

He caught it with ease, biting into it harder than necessary. The faint hum of magic in the pastry soothed his body slightly, though his mind was still frazzled.

She, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on his face. The early hour and her half-awake state didn’t help, and her eyes briefly betrayed her, wandering down the lines of his scarred torso. She caught herself quickly, clearing her throat as she focused on his stubbled jaw instead.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

He almost choked on the bite of the bun. “Why?”

She arched a brow. “Well, the shadows under your eyes and your miserable face give off a certain vibe.”

He scowled, finishing the bun in two quick bites. “If only someone had stayed on her side of the tent instead of tossing around all night,” he muttered.

“Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Next time, I’ll freeze myself in place so you can have a peaceful night.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small green vial. “Here.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, glaring at the potion like it had personally offended him. “Those taste like shit.”

“And you look like shit, so…” she replied, thrusting the vial toward him.

With a dramatic groan, he snatched it from her hand, muttering something under his breath about bossy mages.

She smirked, leaning back on her hands as she watched him grimace through the first sip. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He downed the rest of the potion in one go, resisting the urge to spit it out.

“Better?” she asked, her tone laced with amusement.

“No,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. But the faint twitch of his lips gave him away.

-----

“Tell me again why I have to carry the bag with naga thumbs strapped to my waist?” she huffed, launching a frostbolt straight into the face of an approaching murloc.

“Because I don’t want them to rot and start reeking like shit,” Bucky replied, his tone edged with impatience. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, sending a naga’s head flying in a clean arc. “Just keep them cold and keep moving.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting the grisly sack at her hip as she prepared another spell. “Yes, master. As you wish, master,” she mocked, her voice dripping with exaggerated deference.

“Shut it,” he snapped without looking back, slicing through another naga like it was nothing.

“What’s the matter, master?” she continued, undeterred. “Does your fluffy tummy hurt? Want me to rub it?”

His grip on his sword tightened. No. He wanted her to rub something else, and that was precisely the problem.

He growled low in his throat, shaking off the thought as he tore through another wave of enemies with grim focus. Every word out of her mouth made it harder to concentrate, and the sooner they finished this quest, the better.

For his sanity.

“Focus,” he barked, sending another naga crumpling to the ground.

She smirked but didn’t push further, summoning a frost nova to freeze the remaining enemies in place. “I am focused,” she replied with a smug tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath -probably a curse- and powered forward, determined to reach the end of this hellish mission before she drove him completely mad.

-----

"I'm not carrying the head to Stormwind. I'm letting you know right now," she called over her shoulder, crouched in front of the naga commander's treasure chest.

Bucky, still looming near the mangled remains of the commander, huffed. "I figured. It's too heavy for you anyway."

With a sharp crack of bones and the sickening squelch of shifting tendons, he reverted to his human form, standing shorter and more composed but no less intimidating. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the familiar but always slightly uncomfortable sensation of transformation.

"Anything useful in there?" he asked, wiping blood and ichor off his blade with a rag.

“Actually, yes,” she replied, holding up two gleaming rings. “Looks like someone left us a caster and a melee ring. Lucky day.”

She tossed the melee ring to him without warning, and he caught it effortlessly with one hand, inspecting the intricate etching along the band.

“Aww, look,” she teased, holding up the caster ring. “They match.”

Bucky squinted at her, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “Great. Now we can get married and settle down in Kharanos.”

She snorted, slipping the caster ring onto her finger. “You’d last a week before murdering the drunken neighbors.”

He chuckled under his breath, sliding the melee ring onto his own finger. “More like a day. But, we’ll have enough ale even for our grandkids”

The banter lingered between them for a comfortable moment, despite the carnage surrounding them.

“Alright,” she stood and dusted off her hands. “Treasure’s looted, commander’s dead. Let’s get back to Stormwind before this starts to smell real bad, and you get extra cranky because of the sand in your ass.” He gave her a pointed look but didn’t talk back.

“Let’s see,” she muttered, already pulling a small portable mailbox from her enchanted bag to let Steve know that they had completed the quest. She tossed it to the ground, and with a flick of her fingers, it unfolded and hummed to life.

Bucky watched her intently, still coiled with tension from the fight. Every part of him was attuned to her movements, even when he didn’t want them to be.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glowing letter that appeared before her. “Well, that’s just perfect,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What now?” he growled.

She glanced at him, tossing the letter into the air where it dissolved into sparkling motes of light. “We’ve got another job. Steve wants us to go to Duskwood. The guild bank is low on silver ore, and considering it’s nearby...”

Bucky rolled his eyes, letting out a low growl of irritation. “Of course he does.”

“Hey, at least Duskwood has a proper inn,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “And the people there know the difference between Alliance worgen and the monsters lurking in the woods.”

Bucky wasn’t amused. He should’ve been relieved that Duskwood would be less hostile than Westfall, but all he could think about was the proximity, the enclosed spaces, and how hard it was already becoming to keep his instincts in check.

“I’ll go,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument. “You can handle turning in the quest in Stormwind. Those fingers are going to start rotting if we don’t deliver them soon.”

She straightened, quirking an unimpressed brow. “Forgive me, illustrious master, but our guildmaster specifically requested both of us.”

“I don’t need backup for something as simple as mining,” he shot back, irritated. “I can handle a few spiders and ghouls on my own. Just go.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her as she stood her ground. “What’s with you? You’ve been extra bossy today, and for the record, I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s not an order,” he growled, though it sounded like one. “It’s common sense. I can get the ore faster on my own, and you won’t have to-”

“What? Slow you down?” she interrupted, sharper now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He objected tiredly.

“Really? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

He stiffened, looking away. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. How could he explain that every moment they spent together was a battle of willpower? That he could barely breathe the same air without the primal urge to claim her clawing at his insides?

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Look, I get it. You’re used to being the lone wolf -pun very much intended- but we’re a team in this one, and we’re going to Duskwood together. Got it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He wanted to argue, to push her away for her own good, but the look in her eyes stopped him, he know it very well. She wasn’t bending.

“Fine,” he ground out, strained. “But don’t slow me down.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they packed up their supplies and prepared for the journey, Bucky tried to focus on the task ahead, but the tension between them only grew thicker. It was going to be a long trip, and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive it with his sanity intact.

----

The woods were eerily alive tonight, the undergrowth teeming with movement that set her nerves on edge. It was impossible to traverse the area without skirmishing at nearly every turn, and the battered remnants of giant spider corpses littered the path behind them.

“Isn’t it good I came with you?” she asked, flicking a small flame spell at a particularly persistent arthropod. Its charred remains crumpled into ash as she adjusted her grip on her staff.

Bucky grunted in response, non-concomitantly, as he crouched by a silver deposit. He picked effortlessly loosening the ore, and the metal glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.” She smirked, but her amusement faded quickly as a chill ran down her spine. Her hand tightened on her staff, and she scanned the treeline, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Uh, Buck…”

“What?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “You finally get tired of spiders?”

“Not exactly.”

Something in her voice made him pause. Straightening, he turned to follow her gaze, and his stomach dropped. Emerging from the shadows was a pack of worgens, their eyes were gleaming with a feral hunger that set his instincts ablaze.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his body shifting almost instinctively. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur erupted as he transformed into his worgen form.

The pack hesitated. He was larger than any of them, and his presence was enough to make a few step back, flattening their ears in uncertainty. But they didn’t retreat. They circled, growling low in their throats, a guttural sound that echoed in the damp night air.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Both sides stood frozen, staring at each other down as if weighing the odds. Low growls and deep, guttural sounds passed between Bucky and the pack, an exchange she couldn’t interpret but that felt loaded with meaning.

She took a cautious step back, and her staff glowed faintly in her hand, though she doubted it would be much use if this went south. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “It’s kind of rude, you know. Everyone knows what’s happening but me.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the pack. He deepened his growl, and the sound reverberated through his chest as his claws flexed at his sides. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t friendly.

She tightened her grip on her staff. “If this is one of those ‘dominance’ things, can we skip to the part where they back down?”

Bucky shot her a brief glance. His glowing eyes were so intense that they sent a shiver through her body. “Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice barely human.

“Oh, believe me, I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, with both sarcasm and genuine unease.

The standoff continued, and the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating. She could feel it in the air, the raw, primal energy radiating from the pack and Bucky himself. She hated to admit it, but even now, amid danger, she couldn’t help but notice the sheer power and command he exuded.

“Any time you want to scare them off would be great,” she quipped nervously, keeping her eyes on the pack.

“I’m working on it,” he rumbled sharply.

The tension in the clearing was suffocating, the pack of worgens circled closer, their growls vibrating threatening in the air. Before she could react, Bucky’s paw encircled her wrist, and he pulled her roughly in front of him.

“W-what?” she gasped, wide-eyed as she looked up at him.

His snout was so close, and his voice was a low, urgent rumble when he asked. “You trust me?”

“Always,” she whispered.

“Alright,” he muttered. Without another word, he leaned down and licked a slow, deliberate stripe along her neck, never breaking his gaze from the pack.

“Buc-” she started, her voice faltering.

“Moan,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“What?”

“Just do it. Like you mean it,” he commanded, tightening his grip slightly on her wrist.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she let out a soft, breathy sound, tilting her head slightly, while her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and compliance.

The pack hesitated, as they exchanged uneasy glances. Bucky growled low and deep, as his free hand moved to the nape of her neck, guiding her downward on her knees with surprising gentleness for the intensity of the moment.

She frowned. “What are you-”

“Rut season,” he growled under his breath, lips close to her ear. “They want to fuck you, and I’m showing them you’re mine.”

Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught as his words sank into her brain. “Oh my god,” she whispered, half in disbelief.

“So, unless you want some fun with those boys,” he continued, dangerously calm, “you’re going to play along.”

Before she could respond, he pushed her neck lower, bending her slightly as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and the weight of his presence almost overwhelmed her as he pressed closer.

His hand brushed the hem of her robe, lifting it just enough to expose the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitched as she realized what he was doing. She wanted to throw him a dirty joke to decompress, protest, or say something, but the gravity of the situation kept her rooted in place.

Bucky hunched over her, his chest brushing against her back as he growled at the pack, sounding primal and territorial, and -oh light- he started to pound and grind against her. His movements were deliberate, and calculated, mimicking the act with enough realism to leave no doubt in the pack’s minds.

“They don’t see much detail from here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he panted near her ear. “But it would be wise to show them some… engagement. If you know what I mean.”

The low growls of the pack echoed through the clearing, but they faded into the background as she cast her scruples aside, letting out soft moans and whimpers every time his hips connected with her rear. It was humiliating, sure, but the situation demanded it. Every sound she made seemed to amplify the tension in the air.

Bucky was a storm of barely restrained chaos. Each time their bodies connected, the friction sent a jolt through his body, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the painful erection straining against his pants. He bit back a growl, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that she could feel every inch of his leaking cock pressing against her.

The pack’s growls began to falter, their aggression giving way to hesitation. But Bucky’s protective instincts burned hotter. The violent intent in their stares toward his mage had his blood boiling. He wanted to tear them, to rip them apart for daring to covet what wasn’t theirs.

And yet, another fire was burning in him, one far more dangerous.

The charade, though necessary, was pushing him to his limit. Her body pressed against his, her soft sounds filling the air, and the scent of her arousal cutting through the damp forest air, it was killing him.

Oh, he noticed.

He noticed how her movements became less stiff, how her breaths quickened with something more than nerves, and how the sounds escaping her lips grew more authentic and less forced.

And she noticed too.

The undeniable hardness grinding and slapping against her clothed pussy was impossible to ignore, and she hated the way her body reacted. Her cheeks burned with the realization of the slickness beginning to gather between her thighs. And worse, she knew he could smell it.

Bucky flexed his claws at her waist, tightening his grip momentarily as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured darkly but oddly reassuring. “Just a little longer. They’re starting to get the message.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut momentarily as her scent overwhelmed him. When he opened them again, they were sharp, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. His voice was strained, low, and almost trembling with the effort it took to speak clearly.

“Listen,” he panted, each word carrying the weight of his struggle. “These bastards are going to retreat, and when they do… I need you to cast Frost Nova. On me. And run.”

“What?” she gasped, twisting slightly to look back at him. “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”

His grip on her waist tightened, claws grazing her robes but not piercing. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak through the haze clouding his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t trust myself right now. All I can think about is ripping off that damn underwear and stop this charade.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and her cheeks heated anew.

“But Bucky-” she began, unsure.

“By the Light, woman,” he growled, cutting her off, “Can’t you, just once, do what I say without questioning me?”

The desperation in his voice was unmistakable now, and she froze, torn between the rising fear of what he might do and the unwavering trust she’d always had in him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her mind raced.

“Alright,” she said finally, not sounding very convinced.

His response was a guttural snarl, but the tension in his body eased, just slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he bit out, though the way his claws flexed told her he was barely holding himself together.

The pack lingered, their yellowed eyes glinted with hesitation as Bucky’s sharp, murderous gaze bore into them. Every roll of his hips against her, every growl rumbling in his chest, was a clear message: she was his, and they had no claim here.

He let out a guttural snarl of finality, slowing his movements until he stopped, and she played along, meowling and whimpering in reaction to his fake release. He leaned forward, almost covering her body entirely with his, growling more menacing than ever before.

Eventually, the tension broke as the pack, deterred by his dominance, slunk back into the shadows of the woods.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly moved backward. “Do it,” he commanded, edged with desperation.

For a moment, she froze. She could feel his body trembling against hers, not just from exertion but from the monumental effort it took for him to hold himself back. His claws dug slightly into her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of how close he was to losing control.

“Now,” he barked, sharp and low.

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself away from him, forcing herself not to look back. With a quick flick of her wrist, she channeled her magic, releasing a Frost Nova that erupted in a ring of ice around him. The spell worked instantly, freezing his limbs in place and rooting him to the forest floor.

Her chest ached as she heard the muffled sound of his growl, laced with frustration, and something else. She forced herself to run, her boots pounding against the uneven ground as she headed toward the road.

Behind her, the crackling sound of ice straining against immense strength echoed faintly. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

-----

Maybe telling her to run hadn’t been the most clever idea his clouded mind could come up with. Because now, all he could think about was the chase… and the prize.

Her scent clung to his fur, sweet and maddening, filling his lungs and clouding what little rationality he had left. Each breath only made it worse, feeding the primal hunger gnawing at his control. His aching cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, every pulse a painful reminder of how badly he needed her.

Something in him snapped.

The ice encasing his limbs cracked audibly before shattering altogether, shards scattering across the forest floor. With a guttural roar, Bucky surged forward, his massive form blurring as he gave in to the chase.

His mind, already teetering on the edge, gave itself over to instinct. Each pounding stride brought him closer to her, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying precision. He could smell her panic mixed with something else, something intoxicating. It made his mouth water, his claws flex, and his cock twitch with unrelenting need.

She ran as fast as she could, her robes fluttered as she darted between trees and over roots. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Bucky leaped, the world narrowing to a single focus: her. The thrill of the hunt consumed him, but it wasn’t just the chase, it was the promise of catching her, of claiming what every fiber of his body screamed belonged to him.

----

Her steps began to falter as she reached the road, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, trying to recover. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. She was a mage, for Light’s sake, spellcasting was her forte, not sprinting through a forest or other physical strain.

That’s what she had Bucky for.

Bucky, who would roll his eyes and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman whenever she whined about being too tired to walk.

Bucky, who would scout ahead for the easiest path even though he could tear through any terrain in his worgen form without a second thought.

Bucky, who hunted and butchered their meals with efficiency, ensuring they ate more than stale bread and questionable stew on their travels.

Bucky, who wanted to fuck her.

Her cheeks burned as that particular thought. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before, because she had. Maybe too often for her own good. The idea of him and his hands on her, his low, gravelly voice saying her name in that way that sent a shiver down her spine.

But not like this.

Not the furry kind of fuck.

She straightened, forcing herself to keep moving toward the town. Each step felt like it was taking her further from the chaotic heat of the encounter in the woods, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her: possessive, dangerous, hungry.

And if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her didn’t entirely mind that look.

She almost tripped and cursed, adjusting her robes and glaring down at their impractical hem. Maybe it was time to ditch the flowing fabric and invest in some pants like a sensible person. To hell with Khadgar and his fashionable mage aesthetic. She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through her hair as she walked. All she needed was to reach the inn, find a stiff drink, and put this insanity behind her.

Oh, but she wasn’t going to make it.

The big, bad, and sexually frustrated wolf had been prowling alongside her, concealed by the thicket, his predatory instincts zeroed in on every step she took. She’d barely made it four more paces down the stone road before her vision blurred with sudden movement.

The next thing she knew, she was pinned.

Her back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, and in front of her was Bucky. Human, barely. His chest heaved, his shirt torn and clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He was panting, feral, utterly undone.

Her breath hitched as her eyes raked over him, and before she could stop herself, her thighs pressed together to ease the tingling ache his mere presence provoked.

“H-hey, Buck,” she croaked, her voice trembling under the weight of his stare. “I guess the nova wasn’t to your liking?”

His lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her lips before sliding back to meet her eyes. “Did you really think that would stop me?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained hunger.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Well according to you, it was supposed to give me a head start.”

He huffed a breathless laugh, his hands braced on either side of her head against the tree. “I guess I subconsciously knew damn well I’d catch you. Since, you know, your stamina sucks”

Her cheeks flushed hot, and her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “Yeah, well... there was the possibility that maybe the spell cooled you off.”

“Cool off?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her temple, dropping his voice into a growl. “You’re the one who’s been driving me insane, running around smelling like... that.”

“Like what?” she whispered, even as she already knew the answer.

“Like you want me to lose control,” he murmured, his lips just barely grazing her ear.

Her traitorous body shivered at his words.

“Would that… be that bad?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His entire body went rigid, curling his hands into fists against the tree bark. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating between them like a warning. Or a promise.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out against her skin.

She tilted her head slightly, forcing herself to meet his burning gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw as if he were fighting an invisible battle within himself. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and she couldn’t tell if the heat pooling in her belly was from fear, desire, or both.

“Don’t,” he rasped, strained. “Don’t tempt me like that.”

Her lips parted, letting go a soft exhale as she felt the weight of his words. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “And if I did?”

He snarled, closing the faint distance separating them. His forehead dropped to hers, and his ragged breathing mixed with hers. “Then I’ll show you just how dangerous I can be.”

The words sent a jolt of adrenaline and something far darker coursing through her veins. She swallowed thickly, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she whispered, “Maybe I’m not afraid of danger.”

Bucky’s eyes searched hers, his pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of blue around a sea of black. His lips hovered over hers, so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted.

“Then don’t,” she replied steady, despite the quiver in her knees.

Bucky didn’t move for a heartbeat, his body trembled as he fought his instincts. The moment stretched, before something inside him finally snapped.

His lips crashed against hers, hard and demanding, as though trying to express everything he couldn’t say. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively tangling in the ragged fabric of his shirt and his long locks, pulling him closer despite the warning alarms blaring in her mind.

His hands moved to her waist, rough and possessive, as though afraid she might slip away. The kiss was a clash of tongues and teeth, raw and unrestrained, but it wasn’t enough, not for him.

He broke away, panting heavily, roaming his gaze over her heated face. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he growled, low and thick with need.

Her lips tingled, swollen from the force of his kiss. Her fingers trailed up to touch them as her mind spun. “Well Buck, I’m not sure I care,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened, and his body pressed her back against the tree. “Say that again,” he demanded, his tone more animal than man.

She met his gaze, and her stubborn streak flared. “I said, I don’t care, Bucky.”

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and his hands moved to cup her face with surprising gentleness despite the storm raging inside him. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmured, brushing her lips with unexpected tenderness.

Her body ached at the contrast, of the softness of his touch against the raw hunger in his voice. She shivered again, and he didn’t miss it.

With a low growl in his throat, Bucky pressed one of his thick thighs between her legs, dragging against the sensitive spot that was already aching for attention. She gasped sharply, and her hands flew to grip his shoulders for balance, but before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck.

His lips were on her a heartbeat later, hot and unrelenting as they trailed along her skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nips that made her shudder. The scrape of his teeth sent sparks down her spine, and when he growled again, the sound vibrated against her throat and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips.

The sound seemed to set something off in him. His thigh pressed harder against her, sending jolts of pleasure as her body instinctively rolled against him. She felt the heat pooling low in her belly, and her mind was a blur of sensation and need.

“Bucky,” she breathed, with a trembling voice.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, “Say my name like that again,” he commanded, in a rough whisper that made her knees weak.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him as he leaned in to capture her lips once more. It was messy, desperate, and so consuming that she felt like she was drowning in him, in his scent, in his heat, in his presence.

When he finally pulled back, it was only to grab the front of her robe and tear it apart with a single, feral motion.

“Hey!” she protested, instinctively trying to cover herself.

“You didn’t like it anyway,” he retorted, dark amusement lacing his tone as he tossed the tattered fabric aside.

Her protest died on her lips when his hand moved lower, hooking into her underwear. “And I don’t like these,” he added, low and rough as he shredded the delicate material without hesitation.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she stood bare before him, and his predatory gaze raked over intently, his expression darkening further when he finally saw the evidence of what he’d only smelled before, the glistening slick between her thighs.

“So damn wet,” he growled. Without preamble, two fingers slipped between her folds, sliding through the slickness before finding her clit.

Her body jerked at the contact, a whine escaping her lips as his touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her body. He didn’t hold back, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with calculated precision, his rough fingertips adding just the right amount of friction to make her toes curl.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful admiration as he watched her reactions. She was utterly pliant beneath his touch, resting her head back against the tree, lips parted while gasping softly. “So perfect like this.”

She could barely form a response as he kept up his relentless ministrations. Her hands shot out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as her legs trembled under the onslaught of sensation.

“Fuck, Bucky.” she panted, her voice shaky and desperate, as his fingers continued their slow, devastating circles over her clit and her hips moved involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the friction he was so generously giving her.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, laced with a possessive edge. He leaned in, and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear when he finally buried his fingers inside her. “You feel how good this is? How good you’re gonna feel when I’m finally inside you?”

Her knees buckled at the promise in his voice, and his grip tightened, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.

His lips trailed along the sensitive column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin before he bit down gently.

Her nails clawed at his shoulders and biceps as his fingers worked her relentlessly, curling just right to hit the spot that made her vision blur. “Fuck!” she gasped.

“Feel so good, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, as his thumb kept circling her clit with maddening precision. “So damn wet for me, and I’ve barely started.”

Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, grinding against him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust and curl of his fingers, every swirl of his thumb sent waves of pleasure through her body and she was about to snap.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned again, and her head lolled back as he continued to mark her neck. She was completely at his mercy, and her body trembled, as the heat built low in her stomach, threatening to unravel her completely.

“Chase it,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful when you let go.” His words were her undoing. Her body arched, and a sharp cry left her lips as she shattered, clenching around his fingers as the pleasure crashed over her like a wave.

Bucky didn’t ease up, and his fingers continued their relentless pace, driving her deeper into a haze of pleasure. She squirmed, pushing at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he didn’t budge. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, pinning her against the tree.

“Bucky,” she whined, her voice breathless and trembling, “I… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, with authority. “And you will. I’m not done with you yet.”

She gasped as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her further. The sensation was overwhelming, but it teetered dangerously close to pure bliss. His thumb continued its torment on her clit, and her thighs shook as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly.

“That’s it,” he rumbled, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want you ready to take all of me, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I will make sure you know it.”

“Oh, cocky, aren’t we?” she tried to quip, but her voice shook as she clung to the last shred of control she had left.

His deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, “Yeah,” he retorted, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Cocky, indeed.”

Her response was lost in a breathless moan as he curved his fingers again, finding that perfect spot and sending sparks shooting through her body. She couldn’t think or do anything but cling to him as he worked her over with ruthless precision.

Bucky’s blue eyes bore into hers, feral and wild, “Come on,” he murmured, low and commanding. “Give me another one. Show me how good you can be for me.”

Her body betrayed her completely, tightening around his fingers as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge once more. His relentless dominance was intoxicating, and she hated how much she wanted to fall apart for him all over again.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whined, “or I swear I’ll put bubblegum on your tail the first chance I get.”

Her body trembled violently as her climax tore through her, making her see stars. It was the most intense release she’d ever felt, and it left her gasping for air, every muscle in her body turning into jelly.

Bucky chuckled, clearly satisfied with the way she fell apart under his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, glistening with her slick, and without warning, brought them to her lips.

“Open,” he commanded, in a rough growl.

Her dazed eyes blinked up at him, but she obeyed, parting her lips. He pressed his fingers onto her tongue, making her taste herself. Before she could process it further, he leaned and crashed his mouth against hers.

He licked at her lips, her tongue, and his own fingers still in her mouth, mingling their breaths in a way that felt so filthy and erotic that it made her head spin.

His other hand cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, his feral nature showing in the raw hunger with which he devoured her.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Bucky’s blue gaze glowed with pride and desire, and his mouth curled into a wicked smirk.

“You taste so damn good,” he murmured, thick with arousal. “Every part of you.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he fumbled with his belt and nearly tore his pants apart to free his throbbing, leaking cock. A guttural groan escaped from his throat as the cool air hit his heated length.

His glowing eyes locked on hers, filled with feral hunger. “And now, magic bun,” he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk… and then some more.”

With one hand, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg to spread her wide. The other wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, guiding it between her slick folds. He groaned low and deep as the head of his cock pressed against her clit, grinding teasingly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gasped, and her head fell back against the tree as the tantalizing friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. “Bucky…” she breathed half a plea, half a warning.

“Patience.” he growled. Slowly, torturously, he began to push forward, as the thick head of his cock stretched her inch by inch.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her breath hitched as he split her open, his size forcing her body to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. He paused briefly, giving her time to catch up, though his trembling muscles betrayed how much restraint it was costing him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the tree as he sank deeper. “So tight, so perfect.” He lifted her other leg from behind her knee and pushed again.

She whimpered, rolling her hips instinctively to meet him, drawing a shuddering growl from his chest. Her body stretched and molded around him, every nerve alight with pleasure and the intoxicating mix of pain and anticipation. Her breath came in short, heated bursts as her lips sought out his stubbled jaw, lingering before she nipped at his skin. It was soft but enough to provoke, enough to draw a growl from deep within his chest.

"Keep going, big guy," she whispered, her voice husky and laced with a mix of daring and need.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Once I start, there’s no stopping.”

Her hands slid up his chest, grazing the muscles beneath his shirt with her nails. “Good,” she breathed, “because I wasn’t planning on stopping you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. With a guttural sound, Bucky thrust forward, stretching her inch by maddening inch. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her lips parted in a gasp, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a broken growl as he sank deeper, claiming her completely. Her nails dug into his skin as her body arched against him, and a soft cry escaped her lips.

He rolled his hips again, slow but deliberate. “You feel that? That’s all me, and I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied my balls inside you, magic bun."

The vulgar promise sent a new wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as her body clenched around him in response.

“You talk a big game,” she managed to tease, the faintest smirk curling her lips despite the haze of pleasure overwhelming her.

Bucky chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’ll see just how big.” he growled, snapping his hips forward sharply, drawing a gasping cry from her.

He didn’t give her a chance to recover, since his movements became relentless in a punishing rhythm that was intoxicating. Every thrust pushed her higher, her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as his words and actions blurred her ability to think of anything but him.

"That’s it," he murmured against her ear, his voice ragged. "Take me. Take every damn inch."

His pace grew rougher, more determined as if his life depended on claiming her body completely. Each thrust drove her harder against the tree, and every delicious drag of him against her sensitive walls made her body sing.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips brushed against her ear. “Like you were made for me. Do you feel that? Feel how perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Y-yeah, I feel it,” she stammered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he continued, his voice dripping with feral hunger. “Every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Her nails scraped down his back, leaving marks that only spurred him on. “Bucky! oh, fuck… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter. “You’ll take it, every inch, every load, until you’re dripping with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She could only whimper in response, her head falling back as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. Her body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure building to a breaking point. “Bucky, I’m gonna- oh!”

“That’s it, cum for me,” he commanded, “Squeeze me, magic bun. Milk my fucking cock!” he growled, his voice rough and ragged as he felt her clenching around him. He could feel his balls tightening dangerously, and with a guttural roar, he drove into her one final time.

“Fuck! Just. Fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled inside her, thick, hot ropes of cum filling her up while he panted against her neck.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and her legs shook as he held her up against the tree, keeping her pinned as he emptied himself into her.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She gave a breathless laugh, still shaky. “There goes your endurance”

He smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “Don’t think we’re done, though,” he murmured, sliding down his hands to cup her ass. “Not until I’m sure you’ll feel me with every step tomorrow.”

"Bucky-" she started, but he pulled out his still-hard cock and gently set her down, immediately latching his mouth onto one of her neglected breasts. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin as he sucked and nipped, leaving her gasping.

“Oh, how many times did I imagine milking these,” he murmured against her flesh, his voice thick with want.

She quirked a brow at him, managing to ask between pants and squeals when he got rough. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he growled, squeezing both breasts with his large hands to make his point. “Every fucking time we shared a tent and you pressed them against me in your sleep. You have no idea what you did to me.”

She let out a sharp gasp, caught somewhere between indignation and arousal. “You creep! Ah!”

He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her hardened nipple. “I’m not a saint, but believe me when I tell you, another man wouldn’t have held back. They’d have taken advantage.”

Her fingers wove into his long, dark locks, an unexpectedly tender gesture despite the heated moment. She tilted his face up slightly, meeting his gaze. “I know. But you’re not just ‘another man.’ You’re my partner, and since our first quest, I’ve always known I was safe with you. Grumpiness and brooding aside... you’re the best.”

His movements stilled for a moment, then he pressed his forehead against her chest, brushing his lips in the swell of her breast as he exhaled deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he admitted, raw and almost vulnerable.

She smiled, scratching lightly at his scalp. “You don’t make it easy, but you’re worth it, Barnes.”

His blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, still exploring her body with his hands, tracing every curve.

“Not the time for the monthly self-loathing spiral.” she chastised. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers dancing over the hard ridges of his abs before continuing lower. When her fingers encircled his shaft -or at least tried to-she began to pump him slowly.

His breath hitched, sharp, and audible, and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t,” he ground out, his voice rough and almost desperate.

She knit her brows, confused. “Why not?”

He kept his grip firm, clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze, with a flushed face. “Now’s not a good time,” he muttered. “Maybe... maybe when I’m not rutting.”

Her head tilted slightly, studying him. “What’s the difference?”

His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, and his eyes flicked back to hers with a mix of restraint and frustration. “If I get too... invested,” he admitted, almost growling, “I’m going to shift.”

“Oh.” Her lips parted to say something, but she hesitated, caught between curiosity and concern.

“It’s not just about me losing control,” he added, almost hesitant. “If I shift mid-act, it’s... it’s a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze softened, and she cupped his face with her free hand. “Bucky, you’ve never hurt me,” she said gently. “And I don’t believe you ever would.”

He leaned into her touch for a moment, exhaling heavily.

“I won’t let you get away with what you want as always. Not with this.”

“But-”

“Shut it,” he growled, cutting her off as he turned her around and manhandled her to the ground on her hands and knees, his discarded cloak softening her landing. His voice dropped into a commanding snarl, rough and dangerous. “Now I’m going to keep getting what I want, and you will take it.” He spread her thighs open with his knee. “You’re only going to open that pretty mouth of yours to moan or cry out my name.”

“Bossy now, aren’t w-” she began, sassy, but she didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came down on her ass with a loud, stinging smack, making her gasp.

“You just had to insist on being a brat and coming with me,” he hissed, his lips close to her ear, his voice dripping with frustration and unbridled heat. “And then I had to fake fucking you in front of a bunch of horny bastards.”

His hand kneaded the spot he had smacked, “Now, magic bun, you’re going to pay for every second of that torture.” His hands gripped her hips possessively, dragging her back against him, pressing his leaking cock into her ass.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered darkly, sliding a hand down between her legs “You’ve been soaking since that little show.” He pressed his fingers against her pussy. “This? This is all mine.” He growled and pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance, already slick from his cum and her fresh wave of arousal. Without hesitation, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. She cried out, arching her back as she adjusted to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

He groaned, “So perfect, magic bun. Taking me so well.”

Her fingers dug into the cloak beneath her, and her breathing ragged as her body tried to accommodate his size. “Fuck...” she gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure.

He leaned over her, pressing his chest against her back as his lips found her shoulder. He nipped at her skin, sharp enough to leave marks, each bite sending a jolt of electricity through her already overstimulated body.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her arms trembling as she tried to hold herself up under the force of his thrusts.

“Don’t stop saying my name,” he demanded roughly against her ear. His hips snapped forward harder, and his cock hit that perfect spot inside her with every hard thrust.

She whimpered, dropping her head forward as her body surrendered completely to him. He growled approvingly, sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder before licking the sting away.

“You’re mine,” he rumbled as he drove into her relentlessly. “Say it.”

“I- I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

“Yes, so damn mine,” His hand slid up her spine, possessively fisting her hair and pulling her head back. The exposed line of her throat and shoulders was too tempting to resist, and he sank his teeth into her skin again, marking her.

The wet slap of his balls against her clit grew louder, mingling with her breathless cries and his guttural groans, creating a symphony of pure, unrestrained need that echoed through the forest.

“Buck, y-you’re so deep,” she choked out, clawing her fingers at his discarded cloak for stability.

He chuckled darkly against her skin. “Deeper still, magic bun,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw determination. “I want to feel your womb kissing the head of my cock.”

He withdrew almost entirely, leaving her desperate and trembling, only to thrust back in with a force that had her crying out. His pace quickened, each stroke harder and more deliberate than the last, pushing her toward the edge of sanity.

Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he cursed under his breath, the sensation driving him wild. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his free hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises. “Made for me, made for this”

She moaned, arching her body, her knees threatening to give out under the relentless pleasure, as her body rocked with every thrust. He let go of her hair and reached down to play with her swollen clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Take it,” he growled, dark and commanding. “You’re gonna carry me,” he murmured, thrusting harder. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t have room for anything else. My scent, my seed, on you, in you, everywhere.”

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” she whimpered, her thighs quivering as she clenched around him, her body responding instinctively to his filthy promises.

She meowled, and her body responded with another involuntary squeeze around his cock. He groaned, the pressure almost undoing him. “That’s it,” he hissed while his pace grew erratic. “Gonna breed you, leave you dripping for everyone to see. “You want it, don’t you?” he rasped, circling her clit faster. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”

“I-I want it,” she gasped, the words barely leaving her lips before another sharp thrust sent her spiraling.

He groaned as her walls pulsed around him, and he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck!,” he growled, as his cock twitched inside her. “You’re gonna take it all. Every last drop. No one else gets to have you, just me.”

The orgasm hit him like a storm, spilling thick ropes of cum into her, the heat of his load making her whimper. He thrust a few more times, grinding deep as if determined to leave no part of her untouched.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he remained buried inside her for a moment, his chest rising and falling against her back until he finally withdrew, groaning softly at the loss of her warmth. He pulled her down gently onto his discarded cloak, spooning behind her. The feral aggression that had consumed him moments before seemed to melt away, leaving behind a calmer, more satisfied version of himself.

“You alright?” he murmured, softer now as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. His hands smoothed over her sides, no longer gripping bruisingly but exploring her curves with a reverence that made her sigh.

“I’m fine,” she replied, still breathless. “But you are totally carrying me tomorrow in a piggyback. I don’t feel my legs.”

His lips twitched into a small, self-satisfied smile. “That was the idea, your limbs around me, where they belong.”

She rolled her eyes and snuggled her back closer to the warmth of his broad chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you didn’t escape,” he retorted, nipping playfully at her ear.

“Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment,” she quipped, tracing the lines of his forearm where it rested around her waist. “Or maybe I just enjoy being with the guy who acts like a beast but is actually pretty damn sweet when he’s not trying to prove a point.”

He huffed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Sweet, huh? Pretty sure I wasn’t ‘sweet’ a few minutes ago.”

“No, you were something else entirely,” she teased, turning to meet his gaze with a sly smile. “But don’t let it go to your head, big guy.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. His hands slid up her side to cup her breast, his rough palm was gentler now as he thumbed over her sensitive nipple. He sighed, utterly sated yet still unwilling to let her go.

“We’ll need the tent,” he murmured and the deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her skin. “We’re not making it to the inn.”

She groaned, grimacing at the thought of wrestling with the cursed contraption in her current state. “Ugh, the tent. Can’t we just sleep out here and hope nothing eats us?”

Bucky chuckled with a low and indulgent sound. As if he’d read her mind, he nipped her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her mouth. “You’re going to lay there looking pretty, and I’m going to set it up,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

She turned her head to shoot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re all chivalrous now?”

He smirked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke. “Don’t push your luck, I’m trying to be nice here.” he muttered, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders as if she couldn’t do it herself. “Since I plan on fucking you again -and maybe a few more times after that- I’d rather you didn’t catch a cold. Also…” His gaze lingered pointedly on her chest. “I don’t want some random traveler getting an eyeful of your bouncing tits.”

She quirked a brow. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care about modesty a few minutes ago.”

He crouched down beside her, tugging the edges of the cloak higher over her chest as he gave her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, that was different. I was the one enjoying the view. No one else gets to.”

Her smile widened as she brushed her hand over his stubbled jaw. “Possessive much?”

He just stared at her, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her exactly who she belonged to. When he pulled back, his lips brushed against her cheek, and he nuzzled her affectionately. “Be good for once and stay put. I’ll set up the tent.”

“Oh, I’ll stay put,” she said with a mischievous lilt, shamelessly traveling her gaze down his naked body. “Enjoying the view.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. He liked her looking at him like that, and she knew it. He made no effort to hide the way his muscles flexed as he moved, taking every chance to show off while setting up the tent.

“Really taking your time there, huh, big guy?” she teased.

“Maybe I am,” he shot back, giving her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stare, I might as well make it worth your while.”

She laughed as she propped up on her elbows to get a better view. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your… big dedication to the task.”

He shook his head as he secured the last of the tent’s poles. “Come on,” he invited, holding a hand out to her. “Tent’s ready. Let’s see if its sturdy enough for my big dedication.” His smirk widened into a full-blown grin, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“Always so humble, Buck.” she observed, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her up.

“Just calling it like it is,” he shot back, pulling her closer until their bodies nearly touched. “And judging by your staring, I’d say you agree.”

She opened her mouth to quip but then paused, frowning. “Um, Buck… by any chance did you bring the sack with the silver or…?”

His confident smirk faltered as his brows knit together. “Of course I-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward the forest, and his expression shifted from cocky to sheepish. “I was a little preoccupied,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Steve will love this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, stepping closer until he loomed over her. “You think I care about what Steve thinks right now?”

She arched a brow, dropping her gaze lower. “Well, considering you’re standing here without a stitch of clothing and no silver in sight… maybe not.”

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he took her hand, placing it boldly against his hard cock. “You tell me, magic bun. Does this look like it cares about Steve, silver, or his damn surprise quests?”

Her cheeks heated as her fingers instinctively curled around him. She swallowed hard. “No, it doesn’t” she managed,

He growled, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. “Now, get in that tent before I lose what little patience I have left.”

Her lips quirked, but she wisely said nothing, turning toward the tent with a sway in her hips that she knew he wouldn’t miss. Behind her, he groaned, with both exasperation and lust.

“Keep that up, magic bun, and we won’t make it inside at all.”

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[bravevolunteer]

“NOT… uh, not really,” Michael reluctantly begins to admit— it isn’t necessarily shame over what he did that makes him wince as he recounts it ( he’s gotten in trouble at school far more times than he could count by now, and none of it matters in the slightest anymore ), rather… the reason why he wandered into one of the science labs: he didn’t want to see the team, didn’t want to see Abigail. The spotlight always highlighted the loss of one of his only real friendships, and he had already been having a shit day. “I didn’t feel like going, ended up in one of the science rooms, and… I was fucking with a bunsen burner. Someone left it out— I ended up knocking it over and some paper caught on fire.” At least he wasn't trying to set anything off, just… messing with the switch. ...Although, he can’t tell if just pulling the alarm would’ve been better or worse in the school’s eyes— couldn’t get much worse than this. “Turns out the alarms are sensitive.”

There's a small pang of relief as he seemingly shrugs off her slip up. It's not enough, it's still something she'll dwell on. Right along with everything else she's messed up, all the ways she felt incompetent out here. It's the first thing she thinks about in the morning and the last thing she thinks about at night. With each day the idea of rescue seems more unlikely, and with that, Jackie feels like she's just waiting to die. Waiting for this all to stop. Probably the only reason she hasn't taken matters into her own hands is Shauna. Whether it's care for Shauna or determination to get back so she can show Shauna and Jeff how pissed she is, it's unclear. For now, she just thinks aboutt how much she wishes she wasn't here. All while trying to stay composed. "You pulled the fire alarm?" Not exactly.

[sofasoap]

Teddy Bear

Pairing: John Price x F! Reader

Summary: You bump into a handsome stranger while shopping. meet cute.

Warning: M Theme. VERY slight mention of Innuendoes. Alcohol use. assumptions.

A/N: for @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world, hope this will give you a tiny etsy warm fuzzy feeling with our dear Johnathan Price.

not beta'ed or proof read.

Master list

“Aunty Bear! Come on!!”

Letting out a sigh, half regretting letting your adorable niece and nephew have the free rein to choose any present they want as they drag you by the pants through aisle after aisle at the local department store. 

You haven’t seen your sister’s family for over a year. You were astonished how big they have grown in the time between, especially your little niece. Seems only yesterday you were cradling her in your arm as a newborn, and now her little feet can zoom around faster than a sports car, even her six year old brother is having hard time keeping up. 

 “Alright alright, steady there, I can’t keep up with you when I can’t see where I am going!” you warned the little girl as you adjusted the oversized teddy bear in your arms, at the same time trying to navigate blindly. At the end you just give up and let her pull whichever direction she leads you. 

Suddenly you collide with an obstacle, sending you reeling. A strong muscular arm caught you in time before you fell onto the shelves.  

“Apologies, are you alright there?” A deep husky voice above your head asks as they try to steady your footing, and only to let go after they are sure both of your feet are firmly back on the ground again. 

Your face heats up as soon as you lift your head up to take a good peek at your saviour ( or victim of your blind walking ), gezez he is tall, you thought. Very handsome too. Nicely groomed beard, piercing blue eyes, slight wrinkles around his eyes and between brows. He must frown pretty often. 

“Ohh, aunty look, he’s got a furry face!” your two year old niece pointed at the stranger, as she stared at him with wonder. 

“That’s called a beard Lizzy, not fur.” your nephew corrected his sister, rolling his eyes. 

“Actually that is a mutton chop.. “ you blurted out without thinking. Seconds later  your eyes grew wide, realising what you just said.  

‘Shit um, sorry, uh, I apologise.. Sorry to run into you. And Um, commenting on your…” you dropped the large teddy bear on the floor, while one hand covering your mouth, waving around towards his beard, horrified. 

The handsome stranger chuckled. “It’s ok. It’s always been a talking point. I am used to it.” 

Embarrassed beyond words, you shake your head. You swallowed hard before you squeezed more words of apology out of your mouth.

“Really it’s Ok. I know it’s hard to chase around the kids when your hands are full.” he commented.

“From experience?” you asked, eyebrows raised, and feeling that slight ping of disappointment in your heart. He must be married. You thought. You took a quick glance at his left hand. No rings. Your heart soars again.

“ I guess chasing and yelling after three adults that behave like kids you can count as that.” He replied as he let out a short laugh. “Especially ones that don't follow your command when they are off duty.” 

Seeing your brows knitted together with confusion at his comment, “ My subordinate. Those three are like my sons.” he smiled softly. 

You swear the room spun a bit after seeing his smile. Or are you swooning? 

Get your brain straight! You mentally slap yourself. You are here shopping for presents, not ogling on eligible or dateable people!

You felt your nephew tugging at your clothes, snapping you out of your internal dialogue. “Aunty Bear, I am hungry, can we go home and have lunch please?” he pouted. 

“Ah um, ok, let’s go and pay for this and we can go home, ya?” you replied, ready to bend down to pick up the teddy bear from the floor. A shadow loomed over you. The stranger had bent over, arms out. 

“I’ll carry that for you, if you don’t mind. Also be easier to hold onto your niece as well.” he gestured. 

Gosh how nice can this man be? You ran into him, and now he is offering to help you to carry your purchase? 

You nodded your head, whispered a thanks, before you turned and picked your niece up into your arms. 

The stranger picks the teddy bear up under his arm with ease, while your nephew carries the rest of the items, as four of you walk towards the register. 

“Aunty … he’s like a real giant teddy bear..” your niece whispered into your ear. “And his arms are furry too, just like his face.” 

The stranger turned around, “My chest is quite furry too. And legs. Just like a real bear.” he added with a mischievous smile.

Your face burnt with embarrassment. Is he trying to flirt with you? There is no way. NOPE. 

You speed up your pace to get to the register, even more embarrassed.   

“Daddy and mummy buying presents for you two?” the old lady at the register asked the children with a smile as she ring up the items. 

“Oh no no no we are not… “ “she’s not…I am just helping her..“ both of you shake your head, denying. Your face heated up again at the thought.  How much more embarrassment can you take today? But part of your heart is actually amused at the situation.

“Oh sorry.. Just four of you look so lovely together..” the lady apologised. “Sorry to make the assumption.” 

You took a peek at the stranger as he accepted the apology and gracefully redirected the conversation with the lady with little chit-chat.  

He was even nice enough to help you to carry everything to the car, “Need help to put it into the boot, wife?”  he joked as he flashes you a smile. 

“Ah, thanks, um uh,  you shouldn’t have.” you stuttered slightly hearing his joke. You pop the boot open, letting him stuff the large teddy bear in. “I ran into you and here you are helping me, I feel very bad. So um, Can I buy you a coffee or something as an apology and as a thanks for the help?” 

A sad apologetic smile appeared on his face. Looking at his watch he replied, “It’s Ok. I have to leave soon. Plus,” he pointed at the two children standing beside you, pouting. “I think they are getting bit.. What is the word, hangry? So I think it’s time to feed them.” 

Disappointment hits you. The one time you raise your courage to ask someone, you get turned down. 

“Maybe next time?” he suddenly asked. 

“Oh. Um. I .. I am not from around here. I am only here to visit my sister and family..” 

Now is that a look of disappointment on his face? 

“Oh. That’s fine. Well, nice to meet you. Have a safe drive home.” Giving you a final wave as you double check the children are buckled into their seats, you drive out from the car park, while the stranger is still standing at the same spot, seeing you off. 

Oh well. Not meant to be. You convinced yourself. Suppressing that sadness that is bubbling up within you. 

Your sister was ecstatic when you told her you found a new job nearby. She often complaints about how the children misses you, how she misses you, and the job opportunity around the city is better than the one you are currently living in, plus she has a granny flat in her backyard, you save a bit on rent, get to stay with your family while still have your own private space. Tonight a group of you decided to go out and celebrate one of your workmate’s birthday. And you always wanted to check out this particular bar that always seems to be full of people. Everyone you asked raved about the good selection of drink and food. “And maybe you might meet that handsome stranger again!” your friend joked.

You rolled your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have let that story out. It’s been nearly over a year. They might have moved on. They might have forgotten about you. Surely in such a big city, the chance of bumping into the same person is quite slim. 

“It’s your birthday! I’ll get your next drink!” you wave at your friend, declining her offer of money as you jump off the stool, ready to get your second pint of beer.  As soon as you turned around, you bumped into a wall of broad chest. The stranger caught you just in time, and pulled you into his chest to prevent you from falling. You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. You recognise that laugh. 

“Hello teddy bear lady, we really should stop meeting like this.”

Oh deary me. Maybe luck is on your side. 

tag list :

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator @random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes, @groguspicklejar,

@whydoilikewhump @captainpriceslover, @tapioca-marzipan

[moonriselabyrinth]

My top 10 Brackwood songs & why each qualifies

War of Hearts by Ruelle: “I can’t help but love you even though I try not to” pretty much sums up the one scene we got between them, it was the tension and undertone we all picked up on. It’s what Davos was thinking as his hand turned just slightly towards Aeron’s even as he approached him heatedly.

Daylight by David Kushner: the expression of religious guilt surrounding sex/a relationship, the lines like “telling myself, I won’t go there” and “telling myself it’s the last time”, the idea that this expression of sexuality must be concealed and only allowed to live at night, I could go on forever probably.

Once More to See You by Mitski: the sweet melancholy of this song while being about loving someone dearly but being forced to keep it secret and living for seeing them just one more time fits Aeron and Davos devastatingly well.

Love and War by Fleurie: to keep it simple the line “lover, hunter, friend and enemy, you will always be every one of these” alone makes it perfect for them.

Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage: The elegance of this song that’s talking about kinky sex is so impressive and lovely to listen to in the first place and I think that fits Aeron and Davos very well. They want to tear each other apart in a tender sort of way. And the singer expressing possessiveness within those moments is, again, very fitting.

Six Feet Under By Billie Eilish: this song is about a love that is already doomed but having hope that with a little care and effort it would flourish even if you know deep down it can’t, you need that hope.

I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski: they are each others losing dogs. “Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”, “I’m losing by their side”, “someone to watch me die”.

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski: Davos and Aeron can’t have much of their own. They live in a time, a place, and within a system that takes everything from them as individuals. They are a Bracken and a Blackwood not Davos and Aeron. They are the sons of highborn men, they are river men, they should be knights and fighters, good at riding horses and killing and hunting, they are to marry a woman and have children and continue on their line. The only thing that truly belongs to them is personal thoughts and feelings. The only thing they can keep for themselves is loving each other.

Doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine: this one might not fit quite as well as some of the others on my list but I really like it for them all the same. I feel they could both easily come into the mindset that one of them feels more than the other because they would each always be putting up fronts and struggling not to show their true feelings so I think the lines like “you'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine” and “I'd like to plan out my part in this but you're such a narcissist” can fit pretty well. But the lines that really bring me back to this song for them are these ones: “The death of me was so quiet, no friends and family allowed, only my murderer, you and the priest who told you to go to hell” also “and the funny thing is I would've married you, if you'd have stuck around” and finally, tragically, “I feel more free than I have in years, six feet in the ground”

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane: this song is less obvious most likely but I like the idea of each of them being tired of the family obligations, the work of everyday life, the façade they have to put up about hating each other so they just daydream about being alone together somewhere know one else even knows about. Perhaps it’s where they go in their minds when life is overwhelming.

Anyway, feel free to share your own or discuss my picks in the replies 😌

[everlastingday]

happy new year everyone! 🎉 here's a little snippet from the survivor au!

thank you @carlos-in-glasses, @henrygrass, @whatsintheboxmh, @carlossreaders, @heartstringsduet, @futures-tense, and @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags! 💜

--

He shares a small boat with six other people. Three older people, around his father’s age, and three other people who look to be around his age. Across the water, he can see an identical boat with seven other players. He hasn’t met them yet, but he knows at least one of them – his father and captain, Owen Strand. 

When TK found out that both his and his dad made it through casting, he was excited at the prospect of playing this game together, but also afraid of how their relationship would naturally put a target on both their backs. Before leaving New York, he had given his dad a whole lecture about how they have to keep their relationship under wraps for as long as possible, but knowing his dad, he’s not sure how long they’re going to be able to keep it a secret. In any case, although he’s disappointed they’re on different tribes, he ultimately thinks this is going to be better for his game. 

He studies his tribemates a little more intently. TK knows that in a season full of other first responders, he probably isn’t going to be the most physically adept, despite being a dual-certified firefighter and paramedic. On any other season, he’d probably have excelled at playing a physical game, but this season was a different ball-game. He’s going to have to play a very different game than what he’s always imagined himself playing, and the uncertainty both excites and scares him. 

He eyes the man sitting across from him. For a lack of a better phrase, the guy is hot. Dark brown curls, and warm brown eyes framed by a set of eyelashes so luscious that they looked fake. And based on the muscle definition that’s peeking through his muted red t-shirt, TK has no doubt that this guy is going to be a physical threat. 

Nobody says a word the entire ride over to the island where the game will begin. By the time he steps off and his feet hit solid ground, all his nerves fade away, and he feels the adrenaline kick in. Game on.

--

open tag & no-pressure tagging a few people under the cut!

@nancys-braids @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@captain-gillian @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@firstprince-history-huh @nisbanisba @emsprovisions @paperstorm

let me know if you want to be added/removed, and please feel free to tag me as well, i love seeing what everyone else is working on! 💜

[bravevolunteer]

ONE OF THESE DAYS, he'll tell Gregory more of the reasons behind the way he ended up— he doesn't intend on keeping all of it to himself forever ( he had, at first, before he expected the influence Gregory would have on his life... on allowing him some semblance of living again ), only to... slowly reveal those details. When he's a little older, when Michael is more assured that the kid won't fall into the same destructive pattern. For now, when it isn't a driving force behind conflict, it is a little amusing to see him groan at the same old excuses Michael continues to give ( though he doesn't quite catch the fondness, the running joke maintains lighter spirits: at least, sometimes he can get things to go his way ).

Michael struggles not to laugh again as Gregory rushes in front of him, equally as amused by the attempt to block his way ( as if Michael couldn't easily slip past him ), though he holds it in, keeping the jokingly serious demeanor. "Nope— I warned you! Told you I could revoke the treat privileges at any time."

Keeping up the bit, he tries to slide past Gregory's barrier. "Maybe I've got other places to be— you know, to get out more and all that."

★ — "Oh, come on ——."

Exasperation clear in his tone as he practically groans, the words accompanied by an exaggerated roll of his eyes. There's a fondness there, too, that he couldn't keep out even if he wanted to — the slight spark in his eyes, little bounce in his step and the barest trace of a smile that he doesn't quite know well enough to bite down in entirety. Not that he expected anything more in way of an answer, but it doesn't stop him from pushing in the hope that he'll get something of substance out of the man.

His pace stutters to a halt when Michael stops in his tracks, a moment of disbelief before a shout of something halfway between a laugh and a yelp. Quick to jog in front of his guardian in an attempt to block his path, throwing his arms out as if that'll create some kind of barrier that'll cause him to turn around. There's no attempt made to hide the smile any longer ; too focussed on the game at hand

"Michaeeel!" ( a whine, ghost of laughter behind it ). "That's not fair! You're not even going the right way to get back to the apartment!"

[bravevolunteer]

vanny has him tied up and puts him in a foxy mask <3

send 👚 + an item of clothing that my muse has no choice but to wear to see their reaction

"REALLY?" Michael's jaw clenches, tense as he tries another tug at the fucking restraints she's decided to use ( disadvantages to the... state his body is in: corpses can't escape being tied up that easily! ). The mask settles over his face, and he doesn't need a full view of himself to know exactly what it looks like. The thought alone makes him feel sick. "Y'made your point already, you know? What's next? Wanna launch into a lecture about how we're really the same deep down, you and I." Teach an new rabbit old tricks as much as he wants, Michael's HEARD this shit already.

[blues824]

Hello I've seen that you have been getting a lot of requests

But could I request : twst housewardens with nico di angelo/reader, that reader tells them that they're son/daughter of hades and their power? And maybe the battle of labyrinth(feel free to ignore ☺)

Gender-neutral reader (male reader-coded, but anyone can read as there are no gender-specific terms used). English Server player here, btw.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were the only one possibly in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland who could revive the dead… even if they were to do your bidding. Yeah, he was definitely freaked out when you cracked the ground open and made a bunch of cadavers and skeletons attack him while he was overblotting.

Riddle can tell that you have been through a lot of pain. He did not know the extent of that pain until he saw you at the fountain, throwing in a drachma and conversing with your sister’s ghost. You only had one tear slip down your face when you noticed that the tyrannical housewarden was watching. You quickly recovered before using the shadows to travel back to Ramshackle.

It wasn’t until later where he learned about your backstory, and holy shit have you gone through a lot. Chronologically, you were 82, but you had the physical appearance of a 15 year old. You were physically younger than he was. You told him that it was because you spent 70 years in a casino, but this just managed to confuse him more.

Anyways, you first came off to him as rude and distant, which he could understand because you ended up in Twisted Wonderland. You first thought you were hallucinating or put under a hallucination by a god or goddess you weren’t aware of. That being said, you didn’t get close to anyone because you were scared that you could be brought out of the hallucination at any point. However, you started getting closer to a certain red-headed housewarden as he extended a cup of tea “olive branch”.

Leona Kingscholar

When you stepped on his tail in the botanical gardens that day, he was annoyed as we all know. However, since you were in your Battle of the Labyrinth era, you were not about to take the shit he threw at you. Maybe if you were younger, but not now. You were pissed off at Percy and you were on a mission to get out of Twisted Wonderland as soon as possible.

He doesn’t really care that you are a more private person. However, when he sees you display some of your abilities, he does get a bit curious. Like, for example, you opened up the ground and had skeletons attack him while he was overblotting. He easily turned them into sand, but it was still surprising. He had never met anyone who could do that before, as magic in Twisted Wonderland could not do that.

But, there was one time where he was coming back from a Housewarden meeting, and he saw you putting a strange coin into the fountain while you were speaking to an apparition. He hid behind a pillar and saw that there was a figure on the ledge of the fountain. You turned around and Leona saw a tear slide down your face before you melted into the shadow that the fountain cast.

Leona eventually learned of your backstory by Ruggie running around and seeing what he could find about you. You were actually 82 years old, which definitely added to the small pile of “Things that Actually Surprised the Housewarden of Savanaclaw”. You had never actually celebrated your birthday by a birthday party. The apparition he saw in the fountain was your deceased sister. He feels like shit for the way he has treated you thus far.

Azul Ashengrotto

As we know, he was present during Leona’s overblot. So he sees that you can summon a dead army. And he definitely wants to get that under a contract that will put him at an advantage over the dead. However, you have already been in this situation. You were not about to be under someone else’s control again.

That being said, your fatal flaw made its appearance and you held a grudge against Azul. You would go out of your way to not come within six feet of this man. You started making your own meals and you would travel via the shadows. The cecaelia noticed, and he started to feel kind of bad… and so he asked the tweels to find information on you in exchange for less hours for an entire week.

They came up with a lot of things, actually. You were the descendent of Hades, the brother of the father of the King of the Sea. That is how you got your powers. It wasn’t magic at all. You had a full biological sister who joined the Hunters of Artemis group, but died. You were fighting gods and titans left and right… and you were still physically only 15 years old.

Unfortunately for you, your powers did not come in handy when you fought against his overblot. However, your sword did, as well as the potion that allowed you to breathe underwater. You’ve had plenty of experience with fighting in water, so you were well-versed and thus defeated him rather easily. You called him an amateur, stating that one of your fellow demigods at Camp Half-Blood would have posed a better challenge, which made his ego take critical damage.

Kalim Al-Asim

You cannot tell me that this man is not the Will Solace to your Nico di Angelo. However, unlike Will, Kalim does not have the power to heal anybody via singing a song. He is no archer. He has no super powerful whistle. He can’t put anyone under a ‘couplets curse’. He can’t emit a divine glow. He can’t shoot rays of light. He can’t change the seasons. He can’t control diseases. But he is still yours.

Because of the way he is, you physically can’t hold a grudge against him. But you are suspicious of the Vice Housewarden. You stick to the shadows and listen in on private conversations. Not like Kalim would ever believe you, but you have done what you could to prevent an uprising against him.

During Jamil’s overblot, you were actually able to defeat him rather easily, surprising Kalim. Sure, you were sent into the desert, but you were able to travel in the shadows that the dunes of sand cast. You were actually able to take everyone and travel faster. However, that left you drained, but you knew you had to keep fighting. Using the last of your strength, you summoned a skeletal army, and then your vision started to get dark.

Kalim ended up waking you up in the infirmary. He was crying and pleading with you to forgive him for not believing you all along. You were kind of confronted and put on the spot, wanting him not to make a noise and cause a scene. You patted his head kind of awkwardly, and he was so happy to see that you have forgiven him and that everything was going to be okay since you were awake now.

Vil Schoenheit

You looked like a corpse, and Vil was not afraid to point it out. You bit back and stated that because you were a child of Hades, God of the Underworld, it was understandable that you looked less than alive. That started a beautiful hateship between the two of you, as he’s trying to fix your eyebags and you’re trying to fix his attitude. You didn’t even know much about Neige, but you said something along the lines of, “it’s no wonder that everyone likes him over you.”

Anyways, Vil has sent Rook to go dig up some dirt that he could use against you. The hunter found out many heartbreaking things that made the Housewarden feel horrible about the things he has said about you. You were doing all of this just for Bianca, your deceased sister, because she told you that you needed to move on as she moved on to Elysium. 

When he overblots, you already have enough experience. Your sword has the ability to absorb darkness, and guess what the ink is? Anyways, you used your sword to absorb some of the ink, which weakened the overblotting mess. It was a relatively easy takedown, and you just left silently after. Again, your fatal flaw poked through, and you only helped because of Epel and Rook and how you were friends with them.

In the infirmary, Vil woke up right when you dropped off a single get-well gift. It was a small vase with just one stem of lavender as well as an olive branch. Just one, as you wanted to be stingy, but you wanted to be better than your fatal flaw. You wanted to show that you weren’t unsympathetic, so you extended this purple olive branch and the actual olive branch. Vil knew the language of plants all too well, and he got the message.

Idia Shroud

You both are shut-ins, you both are nerds… It's a match made in the Underworld. Nah, but all jokes aside, you both hated each other at first. You would debate each other on every single fact from any given Fandom. But you were good friends with Ortho, even if you did dislike the fact that he was so naive. He reminded you of yourself in the beginning of your demigod journey, and you did not like remembering all of that.

Anyways, Idia is going total cyber-stalker. He is trying to find something he can fight against you with, kind of like a Redditor. What he did manage to find was depressing and sad, and also made him feel like shit. Hearing about Bianca made him clutch onto Ortho more and appreciate having him, as not everyone could have such a good replacement as his robotic younger brother was for his dead older brother.

When he overblotted, you were just tired at this point. However, Idia proved to be much more of a challenge than you had originally thought. By this point, the Housewarden of Ignihyde had analyzed your powers as a child of Hades as well as thought about any other hidden powers you may or may not have, and prepared accordingly. You couldn’t shadow-travel at all and you couldn’t use the ground for whatever reason (Idia had used magic to keep you from doing so).

It was depending on your assholes of friends that allowed you to win, because the one thing that the flame-haired 18-year-old didn’t expect was for you to suck it up and forget your grudges against Ace just to beat his ass. So, he was left vulnerable as you acted as a weird diversion, using his love for a certain anime against him as you shouted a complete hot-take that he definitely did not agree with. 

Malleus Draconia

Hey, look everybody! It’s the social rejects! I’m just playing… kind of. You both tend to emit an aura that can be portrayed as frightening to others. The only difference was that your aura was intentional, and it even managed to give Sebek a spook sometimes. However, it did not deter Malleus from reaching out to you and extending an olive branch. That was the start of a beautiful relationship between the two of you.

I have a headcanon that this dragon prince is kind of like a goth version of Will Solace. You can confide in him during your nightly walks, and he is not going to judge you for it. You have actually told him about your older sister and her untimely death, and while he did try to tell you that it wasn’t Percy’s fault and you weren’t hearing it, you secretly knew that it was true and it was just your fatal flaw that kept you from forgiving Jackson.

Speaking of confiding within him, you’ve also told him that you were scared that he was going to overblot. He was so attached to his retainers as well as you and Lilia that it would be wrong to qualify this fear as anything but rational. Malleus understood, as you’ve already had to fight six overblots in the relatively short amount of time you’ve been in Twisted Wonderland, and you’ve had to solve the familial issues of an arsonist (Rollo Flamm).

Your fluency in Greek fascinated Malleus, as Greek was not a common language that was spoken. He had no idea what or where ‘Greece’ was, but he was also interested in learning about Hades as well as your [distant] cousins, who were the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood. Then, there was an entire other demigod camp called Camp Jupiter, and you were kind of a ghost story between the two. You, in turn, listened to his silly little rants about gargoyles, as you believed that there needed to be a healthy exchange in interests within the relationship.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

Could you do jackieshauna fic recs please? I loveee them!

Oh ABSOLUTELY!!! Thank you for asking!

There’s so many that I could recommend, and there’s no way I’d remember them all, so these are just some of my favourites from my bookmarks, mostly longer or multichap ones! All are complete unless otherwise stated. If you end up reading any I’d love to know what you think!

Putting them under the cut because this is a LONG post!

Check ratings before reading! Some are explicit or mature and I forgot to note that.

O Nyghtengale by nainabanaina

19k words, fantasy AU. Shauna is an exiled knight and Jackie is a Fae creature she’s instructed to kill in order to end her exile. Very pretty, nice and short novella type story. Written for The Princess and The Butcher prompt.

folie à deux by zoeyclarke

10k words, very dark. This is not a happy fic, but it is incredibly, incredibly well written. One of those fics that haunts you with how beautiful but twisted it is. Essentially a yearly ritual Shauna performs after returning from the wilderness as a way of dealing with grief. Technically major character death.

knock knock, let the devil in by TheDragonsLittleBird

58k words, Venom!Shauna AU. A very fun ride start to finish, heavy on the action and plot, mostly Shauna centric. You don’t need to know anything about Venom to enjoy the fic, but having some knowledge lets you pick up on extra little details. Author has also written incredible Spider!Lottie stories that exist in the same universe and happen before the events of this fic, but both can be read alone.

loudest are the things unsaid by 0gasstationcoffee

55k words, pre-canon. This is an explicit fic. Like, the plot is that Jackie and Shauna do progressively gayer things together while Jackie reminds Shauna that she’s totally not gay. It’s somewhat angsty, very hot, and very well written, great characterization as well. Because this technically is pre-cannon the ending is hopeful but not a ‘happily ever after’.

always be my baby by tabithatwo

343k words, incomplete. A fandom classic up there with you stay with the earth. A phenomenal read. Present day timeline au where Jackie survived, but Shauna doesn’t know that until the blackmail and other mysterious things start happening to our girls. This one has everything. Ensamble story of all our favourite ladies, suspense, action, intrigue, romance, this is a full blown novel that creates its own immersive universe. Long but worth savouring.

I feel more free than I have in years (six feet in the ground) by fowles

139k words, college au. The crash never happens but Jackie and Shauna still have their falling out, and both head to college separately, this is the story of them slowly reuniting over the four years they are apart. My summary will not do this story justice. This is THE college AU for me. Along with our in-show favourites the author also includes original characters that are part of the university journey, especially Shauna’s, and you will love them like you do the characters from the show, they are that well developed. Also featuring Jackie and Natalie bestfriendism, a huge bonus for me. If you read and liked ‘this little girl breaks furniture’ you will love this one, similar vibes.

when you look my way by shipmvn

318k words, incomplete. Honestly anything written by shipmvn you can assume will be amazing, and this is no exception. A canon-divergent fic where our team is rescued in a timely fashion and return to their lives in Wiskayok, but even though they were rescued quickly that isn’t something you move past easily. Very very slow burn, but tender and lovely all the way through.

all i wanted was you by britishngay

174k words, no plane crash AU. Set several years out of high school and after the falling out, our girls are grown up with lives and careers completely separate from each other. Until life throws them together again and they realize the tension that helped blow up their friendship is definitely still there. So they fuck about it. Friends with benefits AU, basically, but with a fully fleshed out world and plot and it’s a delicious read.

Taylor’s Eleven by mademyselfmythical

49k words, Oceans Eleven AU. Absolutely hilarious concept with flawless execution. It is what it says on the tin, it’s a heist story (or an anti-heist if you ask Jackie) but it’s also absolutely a comedy. Basically Jackie accidentally drives a getaway van and is determined to return what she inadvertently helped steal. A pure joy to read.

this little girl breaks furniture, this little girl breaks laws by Bandydear

155k words, rescued quickly but life keeps going, canon-divergent fic. Another classic. Top five if not top three JackieShauna fics I’ve read. You will fall in love with this world. Another JackieNat bestfriendism fic, and although this is technically both JackieShauna and LottieNat, Jackie and Nat’s friendship is truly the heart of this fic. Basically Jackie and Nat get a tiny flat in New York and together they learn how to live. Also one of the few fics that casually nails how fucked up Jackie and Shauna are about each other, but like, in a very much ‘match my freak’ way.

Who’s That Knocking At My Window? by nainabanaina

101k words, Vamp!Jackie AU! This fic is such a fun ride, it has a whole self contained plot and could be a book on its own essentially. Just, so much fun. Basically Jackie returns to Shauna, but a little bit wrong. Most of the story is told post-rescue.

VEAL by anaphoruh

80k words, time travel fic. This is definitely one that I’d read the summary and tags for, as it is an age gap fic (1996-ish timeline Jackie and 2021 timeline Shauna) with some darker aspects, but in my opinion it’s delicious. Incredible writing paired with exploring the darker aspects involved in Jackie and Shauna’s dynamic, but mostly in Shauna’s mind (because Shauna lived through the rest of the wilderness and then essentially another lifetime carrying the grief and the guilt of what happened out there. That doesn’t go away when some glitch it the timeline gives you back your teenage love a lifetime later.)

freeze, crash, burn, bury, linger by zoeyclarke

64k words, timeloop AU. This was one of the first longer fics I ever read for Yellowjackets! This author writes incredible fics that tend to be on the darker side, but this one is an exception. As frustrating and angsty but also funny as timeloops should be! Jackie relives the day of the crash again. And again. And again. Something has to change, right?

as i scan this wasted land, try to find the way i feel by commanderofraccoons

38k words, timetravel AU, but not in the way you think. When I first read the summary for this fic I wasn’t sure it was going to be my thing, but it was one of my first favourites I ended up discovering. Callie, Shauna’s daughter, gets yeeted back in time and space to the Canadian wilderness in 1996 with only her vape and her partially charged iPhone. Totally out of her depth, she finds an unlikely ally in Jackie, and helps mend some cracks along the way.

memento mori by britishngay

46k words, gladiator AU! Another totally wild AU, also written for The Princess and The Butcher prompt. A delightful read that tells its own story but keeps the heart of our beloved characters. A pleasure to read, would legitimately read this as its own stand alone book.

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror years ago) by novel_concept26

40k words, timetravel AU. Another timetravel AU, but this time the whole gang is along for the ride! Not strictly a JackieShauna fic, this truly is an ensamble story, but it’s charming and adorable and Jackie does play a very important role.

kingdom for a kiss by hanjisgirlfriend

14k words, and they were Roommates! I usually most enjoy fics that are around or upwards of 20k because I feel like that gives enough time to fully flesh out a story, but this fic manages to tell an entire story, and beautifully at that, in only 14k words. Basically one of Jackie Taylor’s roommates doesn’t like her, and over the course of four months she strives to change that.

i look to you and i see nothing by theyellowumbrella

67k words, roadtrip au. Before you read this you MUST (in my opinion) read the companion fic ‘blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you’, 18k words. The companion piece was my first introduction to JackieNat bestfriendism and after reading it I could never turn back. Both fics are absolutely incredible, well written, beautiful journeys.

only you can breathe me back to life by RynWill

66k words, incomplete. Zombie!Jackie AU! Another ‘came back wrong’ fic! I love love love this fic, it’s just fun. Like, it’s both Yellowjackets and a zombie fic, so it gets dark and a little gory at times, but it’s basically a rom-com. Yes it’s incomplete but it’s so worth reading.

you stay with the earth by knifecrab

176k words, incomplete. Do I even need to put this one on here? This is THE canon-divergent wilderness fic for JackieShauna fans, even one of the people managing the Yellowjackets twitter has read it. It’s basically required reading. Some lovely people did give me a heads up for some postpartum depression in the later chapters, so I’m passing that knowledge along so you know going in.

wander your own land by namelessblade

379k words, incomplete. Very similar vibes to you stay with the earth, another canon divergent fic set in the wilderness where both Jackie and wilderness baby live, but notably darker. I found the later chapters a little bit frustrating to read, but it was a result of GOOD writing, you know that feeling of ‘I know this character WOULD do this, but I WANT them to smarten up’? Yeah, that. Absolutely worth a read, also big on the JackieNat friendship agenda, which is always a bonus.

you’re just a bee charmer by tabithatwo

53k words, catfishing/texting AU. I think this was legitimately the first JackieShauna fic I ever read? That was a while ago so I might actually go back and read this one, but it’s lovely and funny and pretty lighthearted. Also like everything tabithatwo writes it’s just generally incredible. Essentially Jackie and Jeff finally break up (for real this time) and to prevent their rollercoaster of a on-again off-again relationship from continuing Shauna decides Jackie just needs to know she has options. It was just supposed to be a quick supportive comment from a stranger to boost her self-esteem, really! But it certainly doesn’t stay that way. Definitely a go-to for a feel-good read.

talk, valentina! by shauna_apologist

78k words, no crash AU. Another one I read early on! Shauna starts getting bullied and rumours start to spread about her possibly not being straight, and Jackie takes it upon herself to become a better ally for her bff and her team. She gets a little more than she bargained for. Basically Jackie learns about comp-het and some things start to click into place. For a fic that does discuss bullying and comp-het this is a mostly fun, lighthearted read!

a secret third thing by jackiesear (Ash46luvr)

22k words, kid fic! Wilderness baby survives and upon returning to civilization Shauna starts to build a life for her and little Jack, and Aunt Jackie plans on being there every step of the way. Family dynamics can be confusing, but perhaps Jack actually sees something they don’t when Aunt Jackie starts to become ‘Mama’. Absolutely adorable fic, everything you could want out of a kid fic. Cozy from start to finish.

fixer upper by woodenpicador

27k words, rescued after three days/post college AU. Another one I read and loved early on. Jackie returns to Wiskayok after college to purchase a house with her boyfriend, but she soon realizes the house might need a little more work than she first thought. Luckily Nat knows a guy. (Spoilers, that guy is Shauna Shipman. But Jackie really does need to get this work done, and Shauna needs a place to stay, so they can be adults about it for a while, right?) Small town AU vibes, which I suppose is literally what it is.

once you stop, stop looking (it’ll hit you in the face) by novel_concept26

21k words, camping AU! This story is basically ‘what if instead of forced team bonding through trauma in the Canadian wilderness, the team just goes camping?’ and it is delightful. Not strictly JackieShauna but they’re definitely part of it, this is another true ensamble story. I basically smiled reading through the whole thing.

it’s like you’re made of angel dust by theyellowumbrella

34k words, college/sorority AU. Shauna is an aspiring journalism student who is looking for her ticket out and up to Brown where she belongs. Stuck at college for the time being she decides an exposé on Greek life is bound to be that ticket, so she works to infiltrate a sorority to get her scoop, but meets glowingly beautiful, kind, and surprisingly genuine Jackie Taylor in the process. A well written, fun, and mostly light read with some angst and inner ethical turmoil for spice.

WHEW this is a long post and took me a while to write, but I hope it’s worth it! It was genuinely fun to make! All fics are on AO3, I didn’t do links bc my bookmarks are on my laptop and I’m typing this up on my phone, sorry!

Edited to add links! So many of these authors also have other incredible works as well, if you enjoy one of the fics I highly encourage you to check out the author for their other works!

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

König with heart break but repair with your putty :

Pt2 | Pt3

Fem reader, angst, we can understand an age difference (26 - 37), European reader, free form reader, I tried, he may be corrected later, have a good read.

‘If you come back alive from this mission, I promise to start a family with you. My love.’ His wife whispered close to the shell of his ear.

It was the last sentence he heard from his wife that day.

Beautiful in a flowing summer dress on the threshold of their shared home. A simple image that made his heart swell like a balloon. The only thing missing was a child in his wife's arms. He left the warm and welcoming house with that something in mind.

Finally starting a family, she his wife who had always refused to have children. Rejecting with a wave of her hand ‘I'm a businesswoman not a housewife’ ‘I like my power as a strong woman too much for a child’. He was too much of a feminist to think there was anything else. So he gave her time. And she said this to him before leaving on a suicide mission. A surge of energy and determination swept through him.

But this feeling faded like smoke in the wind when he returned home, success in hand. Nothing. Nothing left. The house was empty, no furniture, no decor. No trace of his life with this woman.

At first he thought he'd come to the wrong house, but he was home. He couldn't believe his eyes, his heart was aching in his chest. It couldn't be true, she had promised him. How can you promise such a beautiful thing and then never fulfil it? A solitary tear stuck in the corner of his eye. He tried to step onto the steps of the doorway, a sadness without equal when he realised that she was leaving him. Without saying a word. Deep down he hoped she'd find a better man than him, one who could fulfil the desires he'd never been able to.

Too many memories in this house, memories falsely acquired. So he moved to a block of flats, not far from the barracks and far from the neighbourhood where he has friends. Ashamed, he couldn't look his neighbours in the eye when he handed over the key.

As if she never existed, König becomes the old König again. Prone to anxiety attacks, his fears gnawing at him and his new confidence problem. She had managed to cure him, or at least that's what he thought of her.

He's been living in a modest flat for six months now. Working morning, noon and night. No limits. Just him wanting to forget his ex-wife. Every time he came back from a short mission and lay in his cold bed. His thoughts went to his happy wife. Happy but not with him. He couldn't take it any more, so in the second month he decided to work until the last breath he could give. To keep his thoughts away from her.

It was the middle of November, when temperatures plummeted in Berlin. A young neighbour arrived on his floor. The first time they met, he paid her no mind. She was in the lift with a removal box in her arms and two others at her feet. The cold had turned her ears and nose red, which Köning noted innocently. She was wearing a complete arsenal to combat the cold, and he had deduced that she must be from one of the neighbouring countries. Over the years, König had become accustomed to this coolness, but he couldn't ignore the fact that even in his military uniform and bonnet, there was a constant chill in this faded old building.

Curious about her new neighbour, she hadn't noticed that her eyes had been on him a little too long. Feeling her eyes on him, König turned his head from the ground to see her smile shyly at him before burying her head in her scarf. She was intimidated by his icy blue eyes. He had paid no attention to his own cold, hard demeanour. Something he had never done before. He who had always been gentle and shy had become everything he hated.

Once the lift door opened, announcing their floors, König ran away from the poor young woman. Through this encounter, the woman understood certain things about her new neighbour. Things they both share, in different ways.

[strlingsav]

Drive: Six

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Reader

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You blinked a few times, your attention grabbed by a knock at your door. You groaned, pulling your eyes from staring at the TV, to eyeing the door. Standing to your feet, you trudged to answer it.

Your slippers hit the ground as you neared the door, wrapping your blanket over your shoulders to draw in more warmth.

Pulling the door open, your eyes met with a familiar face- Simon. You sighed, reaching to slam the door when his foot stepped forward and caught it before it could close. You ignored it, making your way back to the couch where you sat down with a huff.

"You ain't been answerin' my calls," He said, moving forward to enter your apartment. "Thought I'd check in."

He idled, unlike him, and searched your apartment with awkward eyes- full of unspoken emotions and feelings that he'd been harbouring since your surgery. He lingered by the door, watching you curl up on your sofa in an attempt to drown him out.

"Thought I told you I don't need you here," You answered back, your eyes glued to the TV.

He sighed, slowly stepping toward the couch, where you'd practically lived for the last few months since being dismissed. You hadn't cooked a meal, done laundry- you'd hardly left the comfortable and inviting abyss for anything other than the bathroom and a shower.

"Yeah," He nodded. "Y'said that. I don't believe it."

You rolled your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest.

"If I wanted to hear from you, I'd have answered your calls." You met his gaze briefly, before shifting to stare at the screen.

"There was a time you were glad to hear from me. Glad to have me here."

"That was before you fucked up my career."

He paused, his brows furrowing. So much had changed between spending the night wrapped in his arms and now- hardly able to stand the sight of him. You'd found out about his insubordination not long after that night; in court, where you'd been honourably discharged following Price's report of the incident. It was only mercy on Price's behalf that you hadn't seen more severe consequences.

Simon, however, was too valuable. His experience, rank, knowledge- they couldn't let him go. Shepherd wouldn't allow it, and the task force would be scrambling without him. So instead, they let you go. Dissolved your contract and effectively made you a social pariah in the eyes of your teammates.

You never knew exactly what he'd confessed to. Was it the entirety of your relationship? The nearly year-long affair that you'd hidden from everyone, including your captain? Or did he only mention a few nights, a few mistakes?

"Savin' your life is fuckin' up your career?"

"I'd rather you have kept your mouth shut. I lost my job. I lost my dignity, the respect of my teammates. I don't even know what to do with myself now."

"You knew the risks goin' in, sweetheart. It ain't my fault you ain't happy with the consequences."

"Except it is- because if you'd done your job instead of worrying about me, I wouldn't be sitting here on this couch."

"You'd be dead," Simon said, finding your eyes. "You'd be fuckin' dead. You expect me to let you bleed out? You daft?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Simon."

"We ain't talked in weeks. You can hardly look at me. So I'll talk," He said. "You've got no bloody idea how it made me feel to hear your voice over my radio. I wasn't gonna let you die. Hate me all you like, sweetheart, but if I were to do it over again, I'd do the exact same fuckin thing."

Your eyes met his, inhaling harshly as you deliberated what to say next. You were angry; maybe not at him, maybe at Price, or yourself, or the panel of military officers that agreed to have you discharged. But you were angry. Frustrated.

You paused, finally free to think for a moment while you stared at him. God, did you miss him. You missed his brown eyes, crooked nose, and disheveled hair. The smell he exuded that left your stomach with butterflies and calmed your senses. Your eyes reached his lips, twitching with restlessness and frustration. You wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel something other than utter failure and humiliation.

You clenched your jaw- how long could you truly hold out? Stay away from him? It was completely obvious from the moment you woke up from surgery and saw him across the room. You loved him. But your heart, regardless of whether it was in the right place, couldn't stand the thought of holding him back. You needed to be cut off from the source.

"I know," You nodded. "I think that's the problem. We got too wrapped up- too focused on something that wasn't real, wasn't sustainable."

"Not real?" He grimaced, backing away. "Don't you fuckin' say that. We both know it was real."

You sighed, leaning back against the couch as you looked up to meet his gaze. Your stomach dropped.

"We liked it because it was wrong. Give yourself some time, you'll realize. You won't want me without the risk."

He glared, a deadly glare that made you feel scrutinized under his gaze.

"I don't know what kinda shit you been fed, but I still want you. Fuck- I want you. More now than ever, sweetheart."

He knelt down, letting his palm smooth over your cheek, his long fingers meeting the side of your head. He forced you to meet his gaze, those cold brown eyes poring into yours.

"I want you." He repeated, watching you inhale a sharp breath.

You wanted to cry, scream; anything to get him out of your vicinity, or else you'd cave. You'd give in to his sweet words and intoxicating voice. You'd give in to nostalgia and the warm feelings he flooded you with. But you wanted to be angry, wanted to stay angry so you didn't have to face exactly what you were feeling for him.

"Stop," You blurted, your hand wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to remove it. "Simon-"

He held strong, pulling the blanket off your body as he wedged himself between your thighs, pulling you closer. His nose brushed against your cheek, his warm breath tickling your ear.

"Don't-" You started, before he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours.

They were cold and unwelcoming, an effort to get you to be quiet, to stop talking before you said something that would end things indefinitely.

You squirmed in his grasp for a moment, before the nostalgia hit; the feel of his arms on your palms, a soft scruff formed on his face, his nose brushing against yours. His tongue slid inside your mouth, and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

You jolted forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he clung to your waist with his giant paw-like hands. He pulled you into his chest, turning his body to sit on the couch with you on his lap. Your hands grabbed at his face, whimpering as his hands drifted down to your ass.

"I missed you," He said between your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

He lifted your shirt off your torso, breathless gasps for air as you disconnected, before he removed his himself. Your eyes drifted to his impressively muscular abdomen, and the bulky shoulders and biceps that moved as he desperately pulled you into him.

You shivered, a low groan escaping your lips when he pressed his to your neck. His kisses were soft, savouring the texture and smell of your skin in case you decided to pull away. He reached around to relieve you of your bra, pulling it off you before his calloused hands glided up your sides and cupped your breasts.

Your hips moved forward, a motion of which you hoped would give some pleasure, especially as he showered your breasts with small bites and warm licks across your nipples. His hands dug into your flesh, frantically reaching for any part of you he could grab.

He lowered his hand to your waistband, sliding it beneath your panties to feel you again. His eyes shut, a heavy breath in as his fingers reached your clit. He missed the feel of you, how soft and silky every single part of you was. How inviting you were, how wet you got for him even when he'd hardly touched you.

"Fuckin' 'ell," He grumbled under his breath, while his other hand held you in place. "Y' feel so goddamn good."

You whimpered quietly, grinding your clit over his fingers, soft breaths fanning his face. You reached and pulled the waistband of your pants down, haphazardly removing your sweatpants before settling back down on his lap.

He swiftly lifted you, pinning you to the couch beneath him. Your hands flew to his chest, warm to the touch, and he paused briefly.

"Don't tell me to stop," He breathed, removing his belt with one hand as he pulled his jeans down his hips. His cock was pressed against your thigh, heavy, warm, teasing you with every subtle grind of his hips. "Please, sweetheart," He whispered, nose brushing against your cheek.

Your breath caught in your chest at his plea, goosebumps scattering your skin as he begged you not to stop, to allow him to please you.

"It's okay," You nodded, your arms sliding around his shoulders, pulling him against you. "I want you."

He groaned softly, aligning his cock with your pussy before slowly sinking in at an agonizing pace. Your back arched into him, your eyes meeting his as your jaw fell slack.

"Yes," You whispered, choked and strained. "Yes- please."

He buried his head in your neck, rounding his hips as he pushed his cock even deeper inside you. Your wetness allowed him to slide in with ease, and his choked breaths in your ear alerted you to the fact that he wouldn't last long.

"Missed you-missed bein' inside you," He mumbled, panting heavily beside you.

The confession made your heart clench- you knew Simon well. It took a lot for him to admit to missing you, even if it was said in passing while fucking you. He meant it.

Your eyes were watery; half pleasure and sadness, a bitter-sweet feeling that made you press your head against his shoulder, wrap your legs around his waist. You wanted to be close, you wanted comfort. You wanted things to be back the way they were, but a small part of you was almost grateful now. The other, larger, part knew that it was likely the end for the two of you. Your commitment had ended as soon as you were discharged, and you imagined Simon would move along to the next.

You knew he didn't want to hear that you loved him. He didn't want to know that even if he'd stuck his neck out and it lead to ending your career, you were thankful, grateful. He'd saved your life, you knew that, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to tell him how you felt. Because if you did, you'd be making him choose between his career and yourself. And he'd choose his career.

His hand cradled your head, his thumb finding your lip, pushing his finger between your teeth. His elbow was placed beside your head, rhythmic thrusts that were consistent, hitting the spot every time. Your eyes made contact with his, brows furrowed, mouth agape as he thrusted into you, finding pleasure in watching your lips wrap around his thumb.

He craned his neck, his lips pressing against your throat, and at the same time, as your fingers circled your clit in tandem with his thrusts, you tilted your head back. A moan, from deep in your chest, animalistic and genuine, escaped as your muscles tensed, your orgasm descending quickly.

"Fuck sake," He grunted, overwhelmed by the strength of your pussy constricting around his cock.

You shivered, your consciousness returning as your orgasm finished in short bursts. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, and shortly after that, Simon's thrusts became short and rough. His hips slamming against yours, until he released inside you with a groan.

You fell back with a sigh, watching Simon's face, cheeks flushed, brows dipped together. He hesitated for a moment, before lifting himself off of you, retreating to the other side of the couch.

You sat up, making eye contact with him. It was silent, only the noise of the TV to cover the heavy breathing between you. Admittedly, it was uncomfortabl. It was the first time you'd felt awkward around Simon, unsure what was next.

He reached out to grab your shirt, offering it to you. You blinked, taking it and pulling it over your head.

"Thanks," You whispered. "For everything. I should've said that, before."

"No thanks necessary," He shook his head.

You waited a beat, with watery eyes and a dizzy head. You were beyond confused; what started out as a simple affair had turned into deep feelings and complicated emotions. It overwhelmed you, to say the least, and before you began to cry, you cleared your throat.

You nodded. "You should head out," You said, a lump growing in your throat.

You wanted him to stay. You wanted to blurt out that you loved him- but you couldn't do that to him, couldn't force your feelings on him when he wasn't likely to stick around. You didn't want to be the one to take things a step further while he was halfway across the world. It wasn't fair.

He looked shocked- like it was the last thing he expected to hear from you. He'd thought it was smoothed over, that you knew what he wanted. But your eyes couldn't meet his, and his gut sank as he realized you were never going to feel the way he did. You wouldn't want him the way he wanted you.

He stood from the couch, yanking his shirt on.

"Goodnight," He muttered, stepping past you as he walked to the door. "Just know I meant it. Everythin' I said."

Your head turned to see him again, briefly catching a glimpse of his boot before the door slammed.

[aurae-rori]

AVENTURINE TRAILER ANALYSIS - THE GOLDEN TOUCH

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT & AVENTURINE’S TRAILER! 

TW FOR VERY VAGUE SUICIDE MENTIONS. 

Hey girlies, hold still. On another note, hello again! I will be going through visual analysis, symbolism, and talking about how this trailer ties multiple aspects of Aventurine’s character together. Some of the things covered here I will be covering in my full analysis of Aventurine himself, so feel free to give that a shot. 

My disclaimer! Although I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, I am NOT a professional. (Yet. When I do, Tumblr Will Know.) Any conclusions I come to are because of my own deductions, personal interpretations, analysis, and logic. You are free to disagree with what I say! 

I also do NOT know card numbers and symbols – what they mean and symbolize and all that jazz. Sorry guys. :( 

Now, let’s get into it. 

First of all, let’s fucking go, let this man ENJOY himself (well. A little. This trailer is not as happy silly as it seems, just like the character himself.) He gets to have a silly boogie woogie! Look at you go!! (He is not boogie woogie-ing.)

Second of all, time for game theories.  

The first scene is really pretty. It’s a coin falling down, toppling against a few stray objects before we flash to the next panel, the ground, as it rolls to the feet of a young boy. Gently, he reaches down, before picking it up, and then, in true Aventurine fashion, proceeds to flip the coin in his hand. However, this gesture actually holds more meaning than I originally thought it did. The coin that Aventurine has seems to transcend his definition of ‘time’ – his inherent ‘value’, or his ‘roots’, never changing. It also shows his connection to his younger self – how he’s still holding onto that child, still connecting to that child, and showing that this child is still a part of him, even if it’s only his past self. 

I believe that the coin that he always has flipping around actually represents Aventurine himself – it represents his ‘value’ as a gambling chip. In Aventurine’s eyes, interpersonal relationships are just like that – they are gambles, where people take advantage of one another and backstab each other. However, it also represents how little he seems to care for his own life – he tosses the coin around, does tricks with it, and is overly flamboyant – just like how he presents himself to the outside world. This single gambling chip is actually the presentation of how Aventurine sees himself and presents himself to everyone else, as well as encompasses his worldview – bet himself, going ‘all in’ with his own worth, or doing nothing. That worth has been with him his entire life – the worth of being a child blessed by a God from his home, being blessed with good fortune. 

Also, sick ass transition. Love that shit. 

Pay attention to the next scene – there’s a brief moment where it shows him walking through a hallway… through the lens of a camera. This could definitely be alluding to the idea of always being watched – I mean, he’s the last of his own race, of course there’s going to be eyes on him. People are going to be asking questions - how is he still alive? Why is he with the IPC? Can he be trusted, considering his race was known for scheming and plotting? 

And then, he tosses open the door in a grand display – a grand display of his fake persona. He opens the room to a whole bunch of robots, who are all gambling, and they stare at him in surprise. That’s Aventurine – flamboyant, showy, confident. He holds a captive audience and all of the others move to the side as he strides towards the slots machine – and as predicted, due to his good luck, he gets three in a row. However, what I think is important to note is that he slides his coin into the machine – and remember what I said about the coin representing his worth? This is what I mean by he bets himself. He is just another gambling chip that he will use to achieve victory no matter what. He is another pawn on the table who has made his way this far, and it’s all or nothing – his whole worth, or not worth the gamble at all. 

Also, at 0:42, we see a briefcase open up to reveal a gem – definitely a callback to the 2.1 trailblaze quest with his moment with Ratio. Damn, gay people. 

Then, after that, he slides many chips towards the table – and interestingly enough, they’re all copies of his one singular chip. This, your honour, is what we call a ‘bluff’. Pretending to be more than you are in order to appear more confident so that your enemies will fear you. Pretty good strategy, honestly. 

Also, cool editing with the machines falling into the Void of Cards. Maybe symbolism for how people fall into his persona easily and fall for his schemes? 

Epic ahh pose, 0:54. Love that for you, my silly homosexual lad. 

Also, him in the elevator going to the top at around 1:02? That means more than you think it does. Probably most likely a representation of how he had to crawl his way from the bottom to the top, and yet, now, it’s showing that he is at the top now. He takes an elevator instead of having to climb – he’s gotten higher, he’s gotten more status. His ‘all or nothing’ mentality pays off. 

And then, he’s set into an arena. Representation of life, honestly. His whole life is a stage, a play, something to be watched. He’s here to put on a good show. He’s being watched, which is a callback to my note about the camera at the start. 

Then, the horrors are set loose. He does his gambling stuff with the cup in his hand while he dodges the monsters. That’s him, alright – taking gambles in dangerous situations, relying on his luck, smiling through what should be terrifying. 

“The wager will be life and death,” but oh, that’s your usual wager, Aventurine. We all know how you have self-destructive tendencies. 

1:42. Hand behind his back. Oh lord, we all died. We all know what the hand behind his back means. We all know how much emotional damage that caused. 

1:46. The dice cracks. Just like his cornerstone, eh? Just like his façade, right…? :) 

And then, everything is drowned in gold coins. Yay! 

And then, he’s standing on a ledge. Possibly a callback to how he said that he had “tested death” in the dreamscape. What better way to test it than jumping? 

And then his enemies are drowning in coins. Probably a metaphor for his win against them. 

And then, here is where things get interesting at the two minute mark. He tosses his coin down, again, like at the beginning of the trailer. Kakvasha flipped the coin up, trying to get higher, and then, Aventurine tosses the coin down, keeping his connection with his younger self. It falls down to the ground, and Kakavasha picks it up with awe in his eyes. He’s still keeping in mind his younger self, still keeping him with him, even to this day. Holding onto his past like a lifeline. 

Aventurine’s trailer… while it does seem on the surface that you’re having fun, you’re really not, when everything is a show and a gamble, right? 

Alright, thanks for reading, everyone! :)