#Maybe I will bc there's more of a time disconnect but like. I want to be scared not laugh and side w the killers idk man

[khodorkovskaya]

not to diagnose myself but i did two blood tests and both of them showed that i have super high amh and ls to fsh ratio. and when i did an ultrasound it did look like there's a lot of things down there. i googled normal ovaries and it looked nothing like that. like there were at least 10 little guys lined up in a circle, it looked polycystic af. the obgyn didn't say anything. but could i have pcos???

but then im skinny, hairless, my periods are painless and i think they are more or less regular...? but then again, what does "regular" mean?

anyway, call with dr today to talk about the results, we will see.

[fereldanwench]

ughh i wanna play a game but nothing is scratching the itch rn

[butteryunlikelylady]

it was never my life to live and he didn’t fall for the real me… he fell for an accessory and thought he could just change the label while things stayed the same

[termagax]

anyways. i feel like ive said this before but i think that wouldve been a bigger concern of his when he was younger and was trying to think abt how he was gonna like. live in the world. well and then the world exploded and he decided he could do whatever he wants forever and started larping as his fursona and i think hes chill about it now. like i think hes okay.

[thecherrygod]

/

[pointsfortrying]

honestly tempted to make a masterpost / guide on tumblr rp,,,,,

[acid13rain]

i remember when my parents found the discord server my dad was more mad about the possibility of me being trans than the fact that the discord people knew the city & state i lived in lmao

[humanjarvis]

tantrum

synopsis: what makes sylus snap?

tags: fluff, sylus is tired and grumpy bc he misses you, he obliterates his phone with his evol, sunshine reader probably, cartoonish luke and kieran appearance (sorry boys) word count: 842

a/n: after that magnum opus line i really wanted to see sylus throw a tantrum and i kept mulling over what would actually make him do that because i can’t see him doing anything much worse than this. i think he’d find Actual grown man tantrums lame. anyway i don’t like this and will maybe delete? nvm but i had the writing urge so i sacrificed this concept from my wips. 

When you arrived at the base after your three-week business trip, your long-awaited homecoming was…tame, to say the least. You’d been expecting a teasing “How nice of you to join us, sweetie,” or a cocky yet vulnerable “I was beginning to think you’d run away.” But once you’d stepped through the front door, Sylus had barely said a word. A soft “Welcome home” and a kiss on the forehead, and before you knew it, you were cradled in his arms as he carried you to his office.

He’d sat you both down in his leather armchair, making you face him in a straddle. His tired eyes had searched yours, and a moment later, he’d buried his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“I missed you,” you’d murmured into his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair. With a quiet groan, he’d tightened his grip on your hips and nuzzled into you even deeper.

That’d been 15 minutes ago. Basking in the comfortable silence, you’d traded kisses all the while—yours on his hair, his on your neck. 

But suddenly, a low buzzing noise cuts your reunion short: his phone is ringing.

When he makes no effort to answer, still breathing heavily in your embrace, you twist in his arms and accept the call before he can protest. 

A familiar voice crackles over the line. “Boss?” Kieran asks. “Next meeting’s in 10. The one about those stolen shipments from Linkon—we’ve been waiting to hear back for months. You coming?”

Sylus doesn’t answer.

“…Boss?” Kieran repeats. “Boss, you there? You oka—”

Red and black mist shreds the phone into pieces. 

“Sylus!” you yelp, jumping in his lap. “What’d you do that for? He’ll probably be worried. And how will I text you now?”

You pout up at him, and as you study his chronically calm expression, you see something unusual: Sylus’s eye twitches. Just for a millisecond, only moving a millimeter, but you catch it.

“I’ll have a new one delivered tomorrow. As for the meeting, I’ll stay here,” he says lightly, a tight, closed-lip smile on his face.

“But Kieran said it was important,” you reply in confusion. “Why don’t you want to go? Are you feeling sick?” you frown, starting to lift off of him.

“No,” comes his too-quick reply. “It’s just…the twins can go in my stead,” he decides simply, moving to lean into you again.

But before he can move an inch, a rhythmic sequence of knocks sounds at the door.

“Come in!” you chirp happily, too excited to see the faces you’d missed the last few weeks to notice Sylus stiffening under you.

Immediately, the door swings open, revealing two masked figures. 

“Hi Luke, hi Kieran!” you beam, and they wave back at you eagerly.

“Long time no see,” Kieran begins. “Boss, did you lose signal or something? I tried calling you about the meeting, but I think it disconnected. Anyway, we’re about to head down and—”

“Cancel it,” a frustrated growl rings out.

You all freeze.

Somehow, you’d been too wrapped up in your excitement to feel Sylus's body shaking—no, quaking—beneath you.

“W-what? But they’re already here!” Luke sputters.

“Cancel. It.” Sylus grits out the words as if holding back a snarl, and the power in his voice leaves no room for argument. 

“O…kay,” the boys say in unison, and as they back away slowly, you shoot them a sympathetic look.

Red tendrils wrench the door shut behind them, and when you’re alone once more, it’s like the man under you deflates.

His head returns to the crevice of your neck with a soft but unceremonious thud, and his deep exhales and burning hot skin tell you he’s trying to calm himself down. 

Uncertain and a little amazed—you’d never seen him lose his composure—you give his cheek a gentle poke. “Sylus,” you whisper. Nothing. 

“Psst. Sylus,” you try again, and there’s some force behind your poke this time. With bated breath, you watch as your finger sinks into the space under his cheekbone, sighing in relief when the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 

Lifting his head up to make eye contact, you smile at him softly. “Hi.”

“…Hi,” he rumbles, and as his crimson gaze softens, the remaining annoyance dissolves from his face.

“Are you upset?” you prod gently. 

A brazen scoff precedes the dry chuckles that fall from his lips. “And what makes you say that, kitten?”

A squint and a slight tilt of your head is all it takes. 

“I haven’t had you to myself in a while,” he begins cautiously. “Three weeks is…a long time. The longest we’ve been apart. And then the moment I have you in my arms, well…” he trails off, gesturing to the shards of phone on the table. “I just want to enjoy you right now. Undisturbed.”

“Oh, I see,” you coo, cupping his face in your hands. “Is this your way of saying you missed me too?” you quirk a brow.

“Yes,” he responds through squished cheeks, honest and unabashed. “Now, won’t you stay with me like this for a little longer?”

[nayeoniiz]

WEBCAM PERV! (1)

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

genre ❥ smut

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

Webcam Perv! (2)

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 

but to heeseung, it was everything. to him, everything about her was intoxicating, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

Webcam Perv! (2)

[zoekrystall]

Just ranting abt horror tropes and how I am picky

Love how that layout change kicked me more into spooky mood again but man I fucking hate how much ableism is in horror movies. I forgot why I don't watch horror movies at like all since forever but adore horror in gen until I searched for ones without any ableist shit in them. If it isn't physical seen as creepy it's the narcissist/sociopath/psychopath villain trope and I want to start strangling producers. The last one I watched was skinamarink and that was like my first one in forever next to an old japanese one like two three years ago w a friend. Will prob rewatch otgw and some classic horror movies. Maybe when focus watch some anime w horror elements. Since like. Getting me to be scared is anyways hard nowadays I consume horror games all year round (albeit only through let's plays). Also idk if it just seems like that or if I got bad luck there but a lot I did want to check out bc of people saying how oh so brutal they are always got rape scenes when I checked which is an immediate no and I just I'm tired man. Also yes I like survival horror I like resident evil silent hill ofc I like a lot of horror game classics but like. Those aren't creepy imo. Those don't evoke the same fear. I want psychological fucked up horror cmon. Gore is cool and I do enjoy it but less in a creepy more in a "yay! ♡" way like sometimes murder makes me feral like an animal. Which is anything but being scared. Like I want to be the one murdering them I want to sink my teeth in and violently shake my head! If you can understand german the youtuber corrupted got pretty much the same taste as me. Back to movies and shows I think the problems also is I just prefer games way more. It's so different just watching people being in a situation vs having to control them maybe even having choices to dif endings and all (even just watching a let's player evokes it enough). Fear and hunger is amazing! 1 and 2! I watched the vods by cdawgva and the game has a neat story characters designs etc. But like. In regs to scary is it not what I exactly want. I bet if I would play myself would I dislike it bc I hate fighting and all. I think bc it touches on the psyche n all is it one I def like more but ig it's more the worldbuilding than the game itself? And then it's for me a yknow horror game but not a scary game. Idk how to explain it maybe a scary game is also just not possible for me and if that is the case then I mean? Fear and hunger nailed it a lot I think. I think I start to analyze automatically more than just let myself be spooked without my brain constantly thinking abt the setting. I mean I like a lot of horror rpg maker games bc of the story setting n all. I think I just enjoy what I enjoy but man is it a shame to only be scared once in a full moon nowadays. I think the suspense is v important? Joey said on a trash taste ep I watched yesterday how a lot of japanese movies nail it w you think there will be smth but then there's nothing so you are constantly on your guard. Maybe that's why if I do I usually watch japanese horror movies. Ik I def don't like when the hard stuff like immediately drops. Def hard to pick my horror taste apart oof.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Vuelve a Mí Pt. I

summary: you and joaquin confront the cause of the end of your relationship.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

wc: 1,002

contents: 18+/minors dni, canon typical violence, angst, break up vibes, pining, longing, intense guilt, illusions to depression

AN: taking a stab at writing joaquin bc i've quickly grown enamored with him. i'm still learning his characterization and how i'd perceive him so be kind with this first try. this is just the first part & there will be another tying things up! i hope yall enjoy and i'm so excited to be back here writing again.

vuelve a mí masterlist

It’s hard to see him like this. Truthfully,  it’s hard to see him at all. Not because of anything he’s done, not even because of how he’s changed while you were gone, but from how you changed. 

It doesn’t make much sense; you had been turned to dust. Crumbled away into literal nothingness. And yet, when you returned everything felt different. Nothing, not your passions, your job, your family— Joaquin— felt like it was yours anymore. 

When you’d come back, you felt so disconnected from everything. You questioned who you were and what your purpose was, especially since so many people in your life had carried on. 

Joaquin included. 

He wasn’t Falcon when you left. He had never touched the suit. Sure he had wanted to, he had his aspirations but you had always imagined that you’d be right there to support him. 

But here you sat. Sam called you immediately, not knowing the hospital had too. You were still Joaquin’s emergency contact— after all these years he hadn’t changed it. 

So here you sit, a book in your hands as you patiently waiting for him to wake up. The doctors assured that he would wake up, he was in critical condition but young and healthy. ‘A fighter’ they’d said.

“You came.”

His voice startles you, and you flinch slightly, losing your place in the pages.

He grins apologetically, “Sorry, querida, didn’t mean to scare you.”

It takes effort to not get lost in his smile, especially after thinking that you might have lost him for good. 

You fortify yourself, crossing your arms against your chest, “More than you already have?”

“You’re one to talk, honey.”

You know exactly what he means. All the abandonment of relationships, taking risks to better understand yourself. He and others have made it clear that they’re worried about you, that you aren’t the same. Confirmation of what you’re most afraid of. 

“I don’t want to argue, not when you’re like this.”

He raises a brow at you playfully, “But some other time maybe? Over dinner?”

“Joaquin…”

You watch him physically deflate and it breaks your heart. He shakes his head, giving you a weak smile, “It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry. I, um, I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’d be offended if you hadn’t,” He murmurs lowly.

Something inside you flutters at the soft huskiness of his voice and you’re rendered speechless for a handful of moments. Forced to acknowledge just how much you’ve missed him. Finally, you’re able to say, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Quino.”

“I don’t know, maybe something that explains why we aren’t together anymore.”

“I’ve explained that.”

“And it still doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s not fair, you don’t understand. You weren’t gone. You got to live your life with no interruptions, with no hiccups. And I got— I got nothing. I was nothing.”

He sits up, flinching as he does. You try to calm things— you had really meant it when you said you didn’t want to fight. But when Joaquin is worked up, when he believes in something his passion can’t be quelled. Isn’t that what got him here in the first place? 

He barrels past your attempts to shush him, his gaze piercing into yours as he does. “You’re right, I don’t understand. But what you don’t understand is how heartbreaking it was having to go on without you. My life was interrupted, the love of my life was taken from me and more than ever I had to serve my country. The one person that has ever truly understood me was gone. That’s a fucking hiccup if I’ve ever seen one. So no, it's not the same. No, I don’t understand, but it wasn’t easy for me. It’s never been easy without you— not before and definitely not after.”

As you listen to Joaquin’s words, you must face not only what the two of you lost together, but what he lost on his own. His struggle, his pain, forces you to turn away from your own and see his in a new light. And for the first time since you opened your eyes after being blipped, you feel like you’ve made a huge mistake. You’ve done nothing but hurt yourself and the ones you love by being swallowed by how the unknown may have changed you. 

You gave up. On yourself, on your friends and family. On Joaquin.

Your chest goes tight and you freeze as your body is flooded with emotion. It took this— him injured and angry for you to come to your senses? 

What have you done? 

“Hey, vuelve a mí,” He murmurs so gently that the tears in your eyes start to fall. “Lo siento, querida, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

With sharp, quick movements you wipe away your tears and stand. “I shouldn’t have come,” You repeat, stepping closer to him, resting your hand over his gently. “I’m really glad you’re okay Joaquin but I— I have to go.”

“Wait, we can talk about this, figure it out like we did before? Don’t go,” He flips his hand over in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m not ready. I’m sorry. For everything, I’m so sorry,” You whisper brokenly. He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over yours in an attempt to soothe you. It only makes the guilt inside you plant itself deeper.

You swallow, shaking your head. Your mind is made up.  “Me being here…it’s just going to fuck up everything further. I’m sorry.

“Baby, that’s not—“

“Be well, Quino. Please,” you implore, untangling your hands and darting for the door.

He calls after you. Calls and calls, exerting effort you know his healing body shouldn’t. And yet, you can hear him trying until the elevator doors close. Something inside you continues to feel him. As you walk to your car, as you eat dinner later that night, as you crawl into your bed made for two. That yearning, that ache…it doesn’t change your mind. 

> pt. II

let me know if you'd like to be on my joaquin taglist!

[msmimundo]

Ok I found this part interesting. Besides the whole Mini Kris getting out of the screen and threatening our Kris (also Kris getting... pale?? probably an animator error but worth mentioning still), Susie asks them if they enjoy it. Susie, who has been a symbol of freedom in Kris' caged life. We seemingly got two options given:

More than once we can differenciate our choices from Kris' by the way the others react, but this time it seems to be different. None of them Susie reacts as if Kris was screaming or confused or tried to hide the answer by coughing.

If you chose "Of course. Games are fun"

They sweat. Their head tilts down too, almost regretfully, still "pale". Even if their voice tone wasn't described, we can conclude this was not the option they would chose. It makes sense with the whole "they are forced in A Situation and is not enjoying this".Also its interesting that Berdly is brought up, not only bc weird route but also considering this chapter's secret boss(also Berdly a sweaty nerd confirmed)

Also despite this they joke with her. That's cute

If you chose "No" however

Susie disconnects the game. Susie, the symbol of freedom, kills Mini Kris. Whether she is saving them or not, well I can't really tell what deep meaning this could have. But she is stopping them from playing the game they clearly don't enjoy.

But there's a secret third option

YOU can attack Susie. And KRIS saves her.

This was specially interesting to me, cause if this is some kind of foreshadowing for future events, the way it's put is I think is Genious! Specially considering Just moments before, we were basically forced to kill Mini Susie and Mini Ralsei while Kris looked back at us. This is something Kris did for themselves, and we can tell by their expression, the way they grit their teeth and how violently they pulled her out of danger, even she was surprised by this. They do NOT want to see their friends injured, we knew that, and they are probably scared to the possibility of her exploding like Mini Susie did, but them coming out of their way to protect her AGAINST what we clearly intended, i find that so interesting.

The rest of the scene they don't let got, and at Susie's awkwardness their only reaction seems to be just, calling her a weirdo? Or maybe that's the conclusion Susie got herself after that awkward silence. Also notice how this part makes Susie open up a bit, get more vulnerable as the awkward weird teen she is, in contrast to the pillar she is usually put as.

So in a scene where Kris, a videogame character we as players are controlling, where they have to face Mini Kris, a videogame character we are making them control but that is set free out of it's world's boundaries:

-we make Kris say they love the game. Implied a lie, negative reaction. Berdly gets mentioned

-we make Kris say they don't love the game. Implied true? Susie frees Kris off the game they are forced into//kills Mini Kris

-we attack Susie. Kris saves her by their own, against our wishes. This leaves her a bit more vulnerable

I'm horrible at analisis but I think there's something worth to pick from here

[euon111a]

B L O O D L U S T: THE OTHER SIDE

summary: this is the second and last part to Bloodlust, the first part is here.

warnings: themes of violence, death, vampirism, supernatural elements, voodoo/occult themes, mentions of forest sex, light biting, more choking, spitting, fingering (f!receive), power dynamics, dark romanticism, toxic relationship-ish (like barely), piv, barebacking, oral (f!receive), dry humping, slapping, slight masochism, body worship (f!receive/giving), munch remmick

w/c: 8.8k

notes: first, thank you so much for the support on the first part, i deadass thought this would flop. the first part of bloodlust was actually so rough imo, it felt very PG, but I had to post it to get this in, bc i couldn’t force fit this part into one post. so sorry this took so long. i saw this tiktok of munch!remmick and wanted to incorporate him into this, hence the warnings. i know it’s in past tense, and i know some parts are super rushed. i kinda got writer’s block so trust the process. i’ll try to post more consistently, im feigning for smoke so maybe ill do something there, in the mean time, if y’all have any ideas plspls let me know. this part is actually kinda proofread (i read it once), and it’s meant to be read as a memory, not in the present tense. again, no use of y/n, in second pov and afab reader. (this was also supposed to be out last week..but i had finals, and i was kinda procrastinating... enjoy.)

All you could feel was weight.

Heavy.

Unbearable.

Like you weren’t actually you. Your body wasn’t yours. Everything was sitting wrong. Your bones, your breath, that stretch of muscle that was a little too sharp, too tight, as if your own body was rejecting itself.

It was slow at first. Then, too fast. Every sense in you was clawing at each other, fighting each other for dominance. Everything was sharp, violent, torturous, maddening, excruciating. Every breath you took was ragged. Every noise from miles around you was picked up like it was instantly magnetized to your ears. The air itself was heavy. Not cold, or crisp, or dense with that moisture that was always stuck to it, but pressed into your lungs with each labored breath until you just couldn’t breathe anymore.

Everything was peaceful for a moment.

Almost serene.

And just when you swore you saw that bright light, that faint hum and the warmth of someone reaching out to you. Something snapped into place.

Something new.

Your eyes snapped open like you were woken up from a nightmare, as if your mind was dragging behind you. Every thought in your mind was waking up slow, even when your body was already pushing up away from the arm rest you were propped up against.

You had gotten used to the feeling of your body not moving like you wanted it to, your Gramma told you it was normal, that it was the spirits speaking for you. But now, it felt different. Everything was sitting wrong, moving wrong, acting wrong. Like movement itself didn’t belong to you anymore.

Your senses were on overdrive. The world wasn’t coming to you slowly, it was forcing itself onto you. Stretching out thin, pressing down too heavy until you were forced to go with it.

Sound was too clear. Light was too bright, harsh in the way the sun peeks through the window in the morning before you’ve got the time to adjust to it. Every shift of the wind, every scrape of movement against the floor amplified, like the earth was demanding your attention.

Everything was distorted.

Transformed.

Almost disconnected. Like you were awake, but in this prolonged state of blur. Your body was all too aware of every sound, of every movement. Especially that empty pit in your stomach that settled like dust on shelves. It was like every aspect of who you were was alive, buzzing into each other until they were one blob of energy.

Every emotion was happening at the same time. Sadness. Happiness. Despair. Unease. Unsteadiness. Anger. And not that simple kind of anger when you don’t get your way, but something deeper. Louder. Instincts fighting against logic. Everything heightened before they can adjust. Like you were stripped of your skin and your clothes and placed into something new, something that wasn’t you.

Then there was that first moment of realization, of finally knowing nothing is the same, of knowing there’s no undoing it, there’s no changing it. This had to be, even if you were in denial of it.

You hadn’t caught it at first, not until you felt it. That hunger. It was insufferable.

The weight of emptiness pressing into your stomach, heavy into your chest. Not craving, or yearning, but need. Something that was written into your body before your mind could catch up to it.

That struggle between control and impulse, like the body wants things the mind ain’t willing to accept yet.

The subconscious fight against denial, because you can’t really deny it, not with how everything feels.

You hated him.

Couldn’t believe him.

Couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he actually did it.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t give you time to process, to fight, to breathe. He just took. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was meant to fucking happen.

You didn’t think it’d happen.

Didn’t think it’d happen like this. Right now. Right here.

Honestly, you weren’t sure what you were thinking.

Maybe you wasn’t thinking.

Maybe this wasn’t what you thought would happen.

Maybe you’d expected the same damn thing Gramma did to get that scar on her arm—expected pain, expected survival, expected a wound that would heal slow but steady. She never told you what happened, but you could assume how she got it. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

Not this.

Not by him.

Not this fear pressing against your ribs like it’s fighting for space between what used to be there and what is now.

Not this hunger. The deep, clawing of something born from the absence of what used to sustain you.

Were you meant to just… die?

Did Gramma know?

Would she know?

Would she cry?

Would she be angry?

Would this hunger go away?

Is this normal?

The world wasn’t the same.

You weren’t the same.

And nothing about this felt normal, but normal didn’t belong to you anymore. It was forever different.

You could feel the steady beat of your pulse slowing, and then stopping, like the body couldn’t handle trying to keep itself alive before altering into something new.

You could physically feel the heat fading from you, the absence, the shiver, the cold. The same kind of lack of warmth you’d get from waking up in the middle of the night from one of your dreams.

With each sharp breath, the slight wetness in the back of your throat, dragging in too much air, like your lungs ain’t sure if they had gotten enough, you could feel it. That tension in your muscles, bracing for something that was coming too fast and too slow.

It wasn’t all at once not like how you thought it’d be. It was gradual, overwhelming, like your senses were set on overdrive. The light burning too bright even after you blinked to try to get used to it, the sound stretching too far, the pain in your neck getting so damn awful you thought you was gonna pass out.

Everything that once felt normal felt strange, you didn’t like the warmth of the candles by the windowsill, or the heat of the fireplace even though it did nothing to warm you up. It was like your body remembered the old rhythm of life how it was before, but refused to follow it anymore. Decided on its own that it was time for a change.

And then you breathed again, not with your eyes closed or the labored breathing right before what was meant to be your eternal rest. But the first inhale, sharp, deep, pulling in air too fast, too much, like your lungs were resetting to accustom to the unknown change, but they didn’t need to.

He had reassured you nonstop when you opened your eyes, when you looked around the quiet living room, when you subconsciously looked around for Gramma but couldn’t find her. Irritatingly enough, he hadn’t left you alone, kept by your side, even though you knew you needed that. Needed that companionship. Even if he was the motherfucker who was putting you through this. Said you didn’t have to like it, but that he’d teach you. Promised you he wouldn’t let you fall apart so long as you trust him.

And you did. Almost.

Your body did. Too quick, too obedient, like your body and your mind weren’t one. Your mind wasn’t in control anymore. Not like it was meant to be.

The first actually movement was slow at first, then too quick, like the idea of control was stuck between struggling, hesitating and this weird newfound strength. You was already moving away from the couch, trying to look out the window for any sign of Gramma.

But the awareness was creeping in. She was gone, he was here, you were new. Renewed. Reborn. Reconstructed to where every step you took set every muscles and nerve in your body on fire. Where you could feel the energy of the air around you, could feel the bend of light even before you turn to look at it.

“I’m hungry.” That was the first thing you’d said. Not that you were in pain, or that you could feel and taste every color around you. But that you were hungry. It came out like it wasn’t a thought, it’s just the truth, just weight in your stomach, just something that won’t fade even after you’ve tried to ignore the rumble the first time.

Tears should have come, but it didn’t feel right. It couldn’t. It wouldn’t be grief, wouldn’t be relief, or sorrow or sadness, wouldn’t be human anymore.

Hell you tried. Tried to feel the tightness in your chest and the water in your eyes, but it just don’t sit the same. Don’t feel like it used to, don’t carry warmth, or that feeling of loss the way it did before.

It was emotion wasn’t fading, just sitting in the back of your mind. Like something was missing, and it wasn’t the heartbeat, but the warmth, the feeling behind the tears and emotions.

He didn’t reach out, or react like that attempt to grief was something that needed soothing. He just watched, kept silent and close, just waiting for you to process it on your own. He didn’t even apologize for what he done, no regret, or guilt or shame. Nothing. This wasn’t about regret, this was about survival, about transformation.

“Tears don’t change what’s already done.” Not dismissively, just truth.

He stays. No leaving, no retreating, just staying close, making sure you knew you ain’t alone.

And then a glance, lingering and unreadable. Not pity, or discomfort, just observation. A mutual understanding.

Another shift closer, small, steady, calculated. Not pushing, just anchoring, just making sure you had felt something solid nearby. Making sure you felt the weight of his presence. Not overbearing, not suffocating, just there. Undeniable.

A hand near, but not touching. Like the choice was yours if you needed some kind of comfort, but far enough to let you know that he ain’t reaching unless you actually need it.

Let you have the space you needed to come to terms with the reality without total isolation. Looks that were silent and unspoken but had some understanding to them. Something that didn’t need to be spoken and didn’t need details.

But that hunger hit deep, pushing past every other thought.

You fought against it, refused to give into what you so desperately craved, because giving into that burning would only mean acceptance to what you’ve been forced to become.

He stayed close that weekend, said the same shit Gramma told you about staying indoors for the weekend. Told you the first few nights aren’t about freedom, they’re about regaining control, and he made it clear he was gonna to stay real close regardless of what you said.

You started noticing the shifts later that night. Some sense of strength settling into your limbs, senses stretching too far just for instincts to be pressing in.

Gramma never came back. Never showed up to guide you through this. Was never close enough to get a good whiff of the cinnamon that always followed her. Remmick refused to let you leave when it was safe, said the first real test would come. Not a test of smarts or endurance, but a test of strength and restraint, navigating who you were now.

“As long as it takes.” That’s what he said. Though you kinda expected it to be faster, to feel shorter. Wasn’t minutes that passed by. Wasn’t hours or days. It was until he decided you were completely stabilized. Until you learned the world know, until you were ready to walk on your own without breaking at every distraction.

You didn’t get a choice, no matter how much you insisted. No matter how much you sore yo and down that you were ready, because he claimed that throwing you back into your normal routine without understanding meant disaster.

Days, maybe weeks, shy of just two months. Or that’s what it felt like. You pushed past the time, fought fast, accepted fast, stopped denying the inevitable just to feel freedom again.

You couldn’t even leave even if you wanted to. You tried. He didn’t go looking for you in the night, you had already found your way back like your body was tugging you back to him before you got too far. You tried again, and once more just for confirmation, just to get right back in the damn house.

It was the same five steps every night as soon as the sun hide behind the horizon. Listen. Watch. Wait. Control. Eat. Only ‘cause he said surviving ain’t just about feeding, it’s about knowing when to hold back. That you was still unstable, too predictable, had to learn first hand from him.

He said he knew all about that first acceptance, and the hunger that forced its way through. And you learned real quick, even if you didn’t want to.

It was anger at first, then resistance again, fighting against the change that already happened, and just before you could do anything about the own emotional rollercoaster you were going through, there was hunger again. Aching, and sore and undeniable in a way you can’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

Over and over again. The constant fighting, the constant tearing, the denial, the feeding. All one endless cycle for days.

Then finally. Forced acceptance, not acceptance in a way to make peace with what’s happened. Not relief of what was the past and what’s to come in the future, but just submission. Knowing there’s no turning back.

Then the lessons of control. The relearning of who you were, who you are, who you will be. The tests to make sure you didn’t snap tin early or too late. Tests to make sure you knew what you were now. Not human. Not alive. Not dead. Just there.

That night, things got heated. You were angry, upset, emotional and alone. He kept pushing and pushing, but you just snapped. Told him you hated him, said you wanted nothing to do with him.

He didn’t argue, maybe because the two of you both knew hate don’t change reality in situations like this.

He didn’t apologize, still hadn’t regretted what he did.

He just watched, not unsettled, or annoyed or shocked by your actions. He was just waiting for you, you wasn’t sure if he was waiting for you to realize that anger wouldn’t undo anything or if he was just waiting for you to act on your emotions.

“Hate me all you want. It won’t change what you are. You’ll come to terms with it eventually.” He said it so casually, so calmly, like he was completely brushing off the emotions you were feeling. It was as if the past don’t matter anymore. Who you were back then don’t matter to who you are now. Like what he said was just facts, and that you had no room to feel anything. He all but threw it in your face, mocked you for your stupidity and looked at you in a way that said that you can fight all you want, but reality won’t change.

You wasn’t sure what happened. You hadn’t hesitated, or even considered to think about what you were going to do. Something just sparked through you. Anger, rage, hurt, frustration. You should’ve hesitated, but for once, your mind moved for you, your hand moving in sync with every thought in your head. Fueled only by the sheer force of your emotions, your hand met the side of his face, and Lord did it feel so good. It was something indescribable, like a weight had been lifted from you and this feeling of euphoric relief was replaced. The slap rang out, sharp and echoing like a gunshot in the pure silence of the air between you.

That momentary bliss was short lived.

The sound of your palm striking his cheek bounced across the room in a way that was physically hurting you. He didn't even move, didn't lean back to avoid your hand, didn't attempt to stop you with a single word of warning. He just watched you. Observing the wave of emotions that flickered across your face at the sheer stupidity of your own actions.

You felt the urge to step forward, to reach out and plead for forgiveness, to beg for his understanding and mercy in the face of your lack of control. The impulse was a reflex, an instinct grown by the difficulties of the turn that had long since been established between you. You were worried you’d upset him, crossed some kind of boundary, angered him enough to the point that silence was the only answer. His gaze never wavered, as if daring you to make the connection, to give voice to the apology hovering on the tip of your tongue.

Yet, even as the words formed in your mind, you hesitated. Something in his eyes made you pause, a flicker of uncertainty that made you question the wisdom of ceding to your first impulsive urge. His silence, his stillness, his unwavering focus on your face. It was a challenge, a test, a silent demand for you to confront the truth of your own thoughts and the pull of your body.

“Do it again.” That was all he said. Three words. He wasn’t upset, or annoyed or irritated. Said it like nothing. Like you was having a normal conversation and like you hadn’t just smacked him. You wasn’t sure if he was provoking you to fuck up again, or if he was mocking you, hell it might’ve been both, but before you could even move he was grabbing your wrist.

His hand moved with a speed that went against his composed stature. His fingers wrapped around your wrist in a grip that would have been painful if you were able to feel past the constant dullness of your own body. He forced you forward, the brisk, sudden force of his action sending a hot bolt of electricity jolting up through your arm. It went up the expanse of your shoulder, down the length of your spine, until it stopped right at the base of your back just to erupt in a burst of uncomfortable energy. Your feet naturally stumbled, your body hitching forward as he dragged you closer to him, though you wasn’t sure if he was guiding you to him or forcing you to his side.

Up close, you could see the faint pinkness of your palm imprinted to the side of his face. The skin of his cheekbone was still flushed and tingling from the force of your petty slap. His eyes, when you finally looked up to met his, glowed with this unreadable emotion that had your breath stuck in your throat. And while you normally had a hard time figuring him out and figuring out what he was feeling or thinking, that look in his eyes had you hesitating. Not from fear or worry or anxiety, even if you tried to convince yourself that had to be what you were feeling, you were just quiet. You tried to speak, tried to move, but you couldn’t, it was like your body wouldn’t listen to your mind. Didn’t want to listen to your mind repeating over and over for you to say something, to just apologize so he wouldn’t look at you like he wanted to eat you. Again.

And then his hand was connecting with the side of your face, mirroring the same way you’d hit him. It stung, you didn’t think you’d feel pain, but you did. Knocked all sense outta you, damn near winded you just from shock alone. But before you could say anything on it, he was gripping you by the side of your jaw, tilting your head up to bring your face towards the dark hallway beside you. The slap hadn't hurt much after you regained your thoughts. Wasn’t even as hard as you knew it should have been, not really. It was more of a surprise than anything else, a jolt that set your nerves alight with a fleeting sting. The same shock you had endured when he bit you the first time.

It was a lesson, some means to keep you in your place, and for a moment you’d thought about mocking his strength, just to try to get the last word. But then his hand moved down your throat, the base of his palm directly pressing against your windpipe, tightening around your throat. Slowly squeezing with a gradual force that made your lungs burn for air. The lack of oxygen began to take its toll, your lungs burning for air as black spots danced at the edges of your vision. A strange sense of detachment crept over you, your mind hazing and blurring as the world seemed to slip away, fading into a distant, muffled obscurity.

For a moment, you’d thought he’d do it. Kill you again. If you can even kill someone who’s already dead, but then he dragged his hand away from your throat and along the curve of your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss on the base of your head in some way to bring you back to consciousness. You should’ve pushed him away, maybe you should’ve tried running, tried looking for Gramma, but you didn’t. Maybe that’s what changed everything.

"I see why Juju likes you so much,” he slowly leaned his head down towards the bite he gave you, though it felt so long ago. It had healed nicely, or that’s what he had said last night, reassured you that you wouldn’t feel it in a weeks time and that he’d make up for biting you the way he did. “You just let people do whatever they want,” He ran his finger along the mark, sending some odd jolt of tingling through your neck before he was placing a light kiss on it. You could already feel that damn smirk on his lips as you tried to lean back against the sturdiness of the wall behind you. "I haven’t even touched you and you’re already burning up."

“I ain’t mean to hit you.” He leaned back at that, giving you a look before letting his eyes slide down along your body. His hand slid along to the back of your neck to gently guide yourself back towards the wall. He ran his other hand down along the curve of your ribs, gently spreading his fingers out to feel the expansion of your muscles as you took in deep breaths.

“Then why’d you do it?” You weren’t sure why. You wished you could explain that. Explain that you just wanted to, felt like it, you probably needed to. Probably needed some sort of physical touch or some proof to help you understand and cope with this whole fucked up situation. He shifted back against you, one hand resting on the small of your back as he pressed himself up onto you until you was sure he had put all his weight behind his touch. His hand dragged down against your stomach, sliding along the curve of your waist to guide itself to the base of your spine. His thumb lightly ran along the fabric of your shirt, inching down just ever so slightly until the tips of his fingers reached the hemming of your clothes. “I’m not mad Junebug, but can’t start nothing you ain’t intend to finish, hmm?”

You wish it was difficult to remember how it happened the first time. You wished you hadn’t remembered that night. The cool of the bed sheets against your skin as he prompted himself over you, guiding your legs to spread apart as his mouth was latched onto your throat. Biting, sucking, licking, kissing. You wished you didn’t remember the feel of him between your legs, his hips rolling and pushing against yours, his tongue tracing the wound he gave you. His hands roaming further and further down until his fingers were gently pulling at your panties to the side just enough to expose you.

You’d be lying if you said you regretted it, lying if you said you didn’t enjoy every second of it. Lying if you said you didn’t like the feeling of his hands against you, caressing and molding against the curves of your body. His fingers pressing, nudging and spreading your lips apart just to force their way into your mouth. You relived that moment over and over again, the sound of his whispers against your ear, praising you for how well you were taking his fingers into your mouth.

The persistent feeling of him pressed up against your leg. That painful stretch of him sliding two fingers into you as he kissed anywhere his lips could reach. Thrusting those two fingers inside you in a way that burned and had you shifting under him, as he fucked them in and out of you so slow and deep. The way you were damn bear seeing starts as he was curling his fingers inside you once he was knuckle deep, rubbing that sensitive nub with languid circles until you could see the white in your vision. And right when you were so close, could feel that knot in your stomach and the blurry of your eyes got too much. He just stopped. Pulling his fingers out of you just to clean and lick his pruned fingers.

The same hand that was preoccupied with shoving its fingers in your mouth had come down quick across your face again, not like the first time he’d slapped you. Softer, gentler, easing you back to look at him as he rubbed the imprint of his dick down against your bare pussy, readjusting himself through his pants just to get better friction.

He’d kissed you that night more than you’d ever been kissed before. Kissed you after he licked his fingers clean from your essence. Kissed you after he finally pulled his fingers outta your mouth after fucking your throat sore. Kissed you soft and messy as his hands roamed along your body, gripping at your hips to lift you up just enough to smack the fat of your ass and let his hands roam against the skin.

Kissed you after he’d spit in your mouth. Guiding your tongue to move against his until all you could hear was the wetness of your tongues against each other, and it wasn’t until he finally pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two that he finally stopped kissing you.

After that it was a blur. A long, painful blur.

He’d fucked you that night, and at first he promised he’d been nice and gentle, but as soon as he slid into you, all his promises fell on empty words. He rocked himself into you, slapping you when you were too loud, apologizing for the way he was fucking into you just to praise you for how well you was taking his dick. You would’ve been embarrassed at the sounds of skin on skin and the squelching between your legs, but your body was betraying you again. Squeezing and molding and fluttering around him in a way that had him groaning against your ear, praising you— your pussy for being so eager.

He was only nice after the two of you came. Telling you how good you were and making sure to be extra gentle when he was pulling out. He reminded you up and down that this wouldn’t be the first time. You denied it, over and over again. Told him it was mistake, but he just laughed. Told you you’d feel his absence by tomorrow and be begging for more.

And he was right.

Things changed after that. You weren’t sure when, but you hadn’t understood it. It was slow at first, a change in energy and the air around you. Not from a claim, or a demand. Just from fact. Like it’s something that always was meant to be, something undeniable, something written into the turning of life itself.

Casual, almost dismissive. There ain’t a need to explain it anymore, too difficult to put into words what changed, you just had to accept it.

This time you understood. You felt it before the words even hit, faster than you understood the shift inside you after the turning. You started putting together what’s shifted inside you, inside your mind, because of him.

At first you decided to test the change. Acting out like a toddler who didn’t get enough rest during nap time. Purposefully being resistant, picking fights at the worst times just to push his buttons. You’d push and push and push, acting like you ain’t bound to something deeper now, bound to him through thoughts and emotions. He claimed to know even before you acted out, said “you just don’t want to admit it.” Like that unknown, unspoken connection was instinctive and undeniable.

Said “you can fight all you want. Won’t change the fact that you’ll feel me long after I leave the room.” Like his presence ain’t physical anymore. Not possessive in the human sense, but just absolute. Like it was something deeper than thought, and he was right. Space didn’t exist between you two anymore, you were one, you were tethered to him through some invisible force.

That pull. That weight. That sense of presence before you even see him.

You knew exactly where he was without looking, without thinking, without needing to ask. Felt something settle when he was near, like tension and resistance faded. Could feel him and that heavy air around him before he spoke, like hunger, and awareness pressed into your own chest before the words even hit.

Understanding, even if you didn’t want to, because it’s already written into you, already etched into you bones.

Fury that turns into familiarity, like knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons before realizing you weren’t pushing as hard anymore.

Glances that hold a second too long, not because of anger, but because something else has settled under it.

Fighting that felt different, less about winning, more about the way proximity shifts, the way neither one backed down.

Moments of silence that aren’t awkward. They’re charged, weighted, they’re pressing with something unsaid.

A stray touch, accidental, fleeting, and electric, but something to feel long after it’s gone.

The way arguments sound different, less biting, more careful, more edged with frustration rather than hatred.

The moment when you’d start to hesitate before arguing, before snapping back at him, or pushing him away, like the instinct to stay has started settling in.

The tension stretching too far, too tight, until it snaps, until it steps closer instead of apart.

A look that said more than words, more than insults, more than what you were supposed to feel.

That one moment, when neither one of you moves, when neither one of you speaks, and everything feels heavier.

It continued in defiance, you fighting him, him not flinching.

The way he hadn’t entertained your anger, but didn’t ignore it either.

You thought the first time would be the last. Told him it wasn’t gonna happen again, but he didn’t say anything, just hummed like he was hearing you but not really listening. It wasn’t spoken about again.

Then the silence between you stretched even longer, not uncomfortable, or heavy. Just waiting on edge.

Moments where you expected cruelty, and indifference weren’t there. It was something steadier instead.

The way he no longer reacted the way you wanted him to, like your rage didn’t affect him. Those insults don’t reach him the way they used to, and there was just something else pressing between you two instead.

The first time he touched you since the turning, not just a hand on the shoulder or a brush of his hand against your hip. But a deliberate gesture, a long touch, not harsh, or violent, but steady, lingering for a moment too long.

The realization that you wasn’t just reacting to him out of hate anymore, but out of something deeper, something more instinctive crept up to you by surprise. You hadn’t acknowledged it at first but it was known.

The way you started understanding him, not his actions, but the weight behind them. The choices behind them. The quiet between them.

Space between the two of you closing. Not force or chased or awkward but inevitable.

When close proximity didn’t result in moving away anymore, there wasn’t a real reason to. It was just comfort. Touch finally carried no tension, just understanding, finality, some kind of knowing that this was what is.

The moments where he doesn’t have to say anything, because the connection between you already speaks, and you’re able to communicate just from looks. Just like how he did before.

And then the second time.

He had you face down against the cool forest ground in the middle of the night. You couldn’t see him but you could feel the way his eyes raked over you, a steady hand resting on the side of your shoulder to keep you forced down against the grass. You rarely had moments like these, after a petty argument that resulted in more yelling on your side and less speaking on his. You were always too proud to apologize, and well, he hadn’t done nothing wrong this time.

So, as most times used to happen, he took his anger out on you… in other ways. It started with gentle touches this time, a slow run of his hand along your back, pushing just enough to have you arched up against his hips.

“You gon’ keep acting up or you gonna give me what’s mine?” Normally you’d fight back, say something sassy just to get under his skin a little more, but it had been particularly uncomfortable ass up in the air. Your neck was tight, all too tense, and you especially hated that look on his face. The one that practically screamed against every instinct of composure.

“Fine.” You knew he heard it the first time, how couldn’t he? But still, he paused for a moment, dipping his free hand under your shirt to roll it further up along your back. You could feel the coarseness of the pad of his fingers lightly tracing the delicate skin along your spine until his hand reached the bottom of your tailbone.

“Speak up now, Junebug.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes at him, digging your nails into the damp dirt to position your cheek against the cool of the earth. You cast a quick side glance towards him, watching him as he stared down at every movement his hand made, like it was his first time seeing.

“Fine.” You spat out quickly, eyes shifting towards the darkness surrounding you as if you couldn’t see right. You hadn’t even noticed the grip he had on your right ass cheek, massaging and rubbing and squeezing before planting a firm slap against the skin.

“Watch that tone now, I’m tryna play nice.” His voice low, a gentle reminder that made it very obvious that his niceness was a relative term. As he spoke, his hand slid down your waist, grabbing onto your hip like you was gonna crawl your way away from him. With a gentleness that contradicted the slap his hand landed on your ass, he guided you slowly, easing you back until your hips were practically glued to his.

You could barely see the way his eyes shifted up to your face, and it wasn’t until he tapped the side of your hip that you tilted your head to look back at him. He was already looking at you, taking in every micro-expression and every flicker of emotion that played out across your face as he grind his hips against yours. You wasn’t sure what he was trying to see, if he was trying to study the way your face contorted in pleasure at the feeling of his dick rubbing against you through your pants or just enjoying the way you looked.

He was gentler this time. Wiped the dirt from your face, leaned down extra careful to press a kiss on your shoulder. Fucked you through your panties, guided you back against his bare dick once he made sure you had already came in your underwear, stuffed you up real good and stretched you out in a way that had you walking funny for a week straight.

It continued to be like that.

Soon as the sun went down, the two of you just naturally found each other. It wasn’t about the sex, not really. It was about the connection, the company, the feeling. Though you hadn’t experienced it before, it felt as though you were a school girl, running off past curfew to hang out with a troubled boy who you had no business to be around.

Except you were forever tethered to that boy.

He had been weird lately. You weren’t sure why, but you should have picked up on the signs as soon as they were obvious. There was this change to him, the same kind of change you encountered months ago.

The life altering change.

He spoke less, told you to always be careful and aware of your surroundings just in case. Every conversation shifted now. A change to where he spoke less, and you spoke more. Not because you wanted it to be this way, but because he asked for it. Asked for you to tell him about what happened when you went your separate ways for the night, asked for all the stuff you swore up and down were boring, but he sat there on the couch, leaning his elbows against his knees, listening intently.

Always kept his eyes on you, more than before. Like he was memorizing your presence and studying every shift of your expression as he urged you to go on and on. Not once did he interrupt you. He just let you speak about what usually happened when you two disappeared for the night, something you never really had the stomach to admit but spoke anyways just cause he seemed so interested in it. Like your words were more important than his.

He never really left your side either. He was just different. Never once told you why he was acting so strange or what happened that night that made him act so differently and seem so tense. It was just change.

Whenever he could, he was always touching you. Placing a hand on your back whenever you two had gone out together at night, looking around the darkness for stuff you couldn’t see, doing things you’d seen older couples do before the turn. Adjusting your sleeve here and there, running his hand along the side of your hip, squeezing your waist like he was tryna make sure you were still there. Held you by your wrist all securely, guiding you and holding you in a way that made it seem like you’d break if he wasn’t too careful. Resting his hand on your jaw, watching you the same way he always did, pressing his forehead against yours whenever you two had sex. Though after a while it wasn’t sex it was something more intimate, something more vulnerable.

He never once said that word you were certain of. The ‘L’ word. One time he had gotten pretty close to it. Told you, “If you go. I go.” At the time you weren’t sure what he meant, it was almost random in the conversation, you mentioned Gramma, trying to go and see her, and that was all he said. Maybe it had a double meaning, maybe it meant more because he said it. But he never brought that up again, and neither did you.

It had been like that for eight nights.

The first and last time you ever made love was with him. It started off as an awkward hug, that half hug you give to someone you don’t really like, but it was the first and only hug he’s ever given you. And then he was sliding down, draping one arm against your hips as he pressed a kiss just under your belly button. You hadn’t heard him at first, his mouth was too busy kissing over your shirt, holding tight onto your hips like you would’ve pushed him away. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, to try to understand why he was so different, but then he was looking up at you, sliding his hands along the sides of your thigh.

“I don’t pray, but if I did it’d be for you,” he hadn’t even given you the opportunity to let his words sit in. To actually soak in what he had just said, and before you could ask, or say anything, he was cutting you off with a slow shake of his head. Like he didn’t want you to talk, he just wanted you to listen. “You don’t ask, but I’d give you anything. I’d bring you anything you needed. I’d give you everything you need before you finish thinking it. You breathe, and I’ll follow.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Couldn’t think of anything to try to reciprocate that response because the most anyone has ever said to you was an “I love you”, and that was only by your Gramma. You were worried, your eyebrows furrowed in a way to have you think faster but he was already carefully rolling down the bottom of your pajamas for some skin on skin contact.

“Remmick, I’m confused.” He looked up at you, and hesitated. For the first time ever, he hesitated. He didn’t say anything, just took a slow inhale of your scent, pressing his face against your thighs before sliding down in between your legs. He planted soft, wet kisses along your inner thigh, stretching them up along your upper thigh and back down to the hemming of your panties. His hands gripped onto your thighs, gently urging them further apart so he could comfortably rest in between them before placing a light bite along the expanse of skin on your thigh. Reaching down to kiss and bite on one thigh before turning his head to do the same on the other.

“Shh, don’t worry ‘bout it, just let me make you feel real good,” his eyes tore away from the sight of what was right in front of him, peeking up at you again just to watch that confusion disappear from your face. You could see in his shoulders that he was still tense, but he was too busy on kissing and marking up your inner thighs to even address the elephant in the room. He moved slow, took his time even though the actual movements themselves screamed of urgency. “Gon’ worship the fuck outta this pussy.”

He was quick to press his tongue up against your clothed pussy, pressing a wet kiss against the fabric. Dragging the base of his tongue up and down against the damp patch of fabric with enough force to have your legs trying to force themselves together again. His hands found their way towards your thighs again, gently guiding your legs back until your feet were propped up on either side of his face. You gasped in surprise as he found that sensitive bud through the thin fabric, forcing himself closer just to try to rub the tip of his tongue against the nub so he could hear that shaky sigh you always made. The rough fabric of your panties chafed against your sensitive flesh, the damp patch growing with each pass of his tongue.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, humming low and long against your mound, taking quick blinks to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him in place as you rocked against him, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.

He tugged your panties aside, exposing your glistening sex to the cool air before his mouth was on you again. His tongue sliding deep into your folds, fucking along the slick walls of your core.

He groaned against your flesh, the vibrations sending little waves of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open, keeping you vulnerable to his ministration. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around your clit before drawing it into his mouth to suck again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you ground yourself against his face, riding his tongue with stuttering motions. The wet sounds of his mouth on your sex filled the room, accented by your desperate moans and whiny gasps.

He ate you out like he was starving. Like he was new again and having his first meal. You could feel every ridge, every contour of his tongue and the warmth of his mouth against you, as he continued every as you were rocking your hips against his face, rubbing swollen clit against his lips and chin. The whole thing was so obscene, almost crude, wet sounds filled the air. The lewd schlick and suck of his mouth on your soaked sex echoed through the room like the filthiest thing you’ve ever heard. The vulgar noise mingled with your breathless moans and the slight squirming of your body under his was something that had been etched into your mind. Even now.

Your heavy breathing broke off into a sharp whine as his lips closed around your throbbing clit, sucking on the sensitive nub with a long pop. You couldn’t even speak, back almost arching up off the bed, nails raking down his scalp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you held him in place, your body writhing and bucking against his mouth.

He lapped at you like a man who’d just finished his fast. His tongue flicking and stroking and teasing every aching, swollen fold of your flesh. The sight of him nestled between your pale thighs, his lips glistening with your juices and something between drool and spit had been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen. It was a debauched, erotic vision that forced another knot in your stomach and a familiar ache deep in your body.

You could feel the heat building in your core, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter as his tongue fucked you towards the brink of toe curling ecstasy. It was probably the hardest you’ve ever came, you weren’t sure why, but it had been. And soon as you were done, he grinned at you with slick lips before having his own way with you.

The night was dense, thick with tension, with the scent of damp earth and blood lingering in the air. He hadn’t come back yet. You weren’t sure why, and you weren’t too worried at first, you could still smell the faint leather and wood scent of him lingering off in the distance. But you heard them. Heard them before you could see them. The hushed voices, the slow footsteps, the precise movements that were a little too precise and a little too quiet to be randoms.

You wished you could turn back time. Wished you could have some fear or some rationality to remind yourself that unease was the only thing that had kept you alive. You should have listened to your gut.

Should have ignored the voice inside your head telling you that this wasn’t fear. Fear was useless. It was a calculation, an understanding. A recognition of the moment where the hunt shifted, but you had no real place to run too. The moon was almost gone, the sun was too close to rising, and you could hear that faint ruffle of the animals coming to life.

Then the silence broke, the house creaked, the ground wept. A flicker of movement, a shadow stepping forward, barely visible against the low porch light. Not rushed, not desperate. They didn’t need to be. You were surrounded, and you ain’t even know who they were. Still don’t. But you’ve got a bit of a clue now.

Your gaze shifted out the window, fingers curling at your sides, muscles coiling in tension, the deep pulse of hunger buried beneath something colder. You couldn’t see him, the scent of him was wafting away into the distance somewhere. Maybe you should’ve tried running away, seeking shelter in some idiot’s house for the day, keep moving at night. But you hadn’t.

You stay stuck in the house, cornered like a mouse with no obvious escape and no easy way out. Everything happened in slow motion. Weapons of wooden stakes and guns were drawn, a wall of human blocking the only entrance out of the damn place. You could’ve fed, could’ve tried to, but there was ten of them and one of you. But they didn’t rush, just watched by the driveway, waiting on you to cave before the tension settled too thick.

Not panicking, not surrendering, but everyone recognized the weight of the moment. The weight of this.

“Your kind has roamed freely for too long. That ends now.” It was spoken out into the night air. Like justice, like something deeper than the hunt itself. Like revenge.

You couldn’t run, couldn’t hide, couldn’t feed without getting a stake in the heart. It was over before it even started. Finally closing you in, making sure you understands the finality of it.

If you think too long about it, in some ways, he’s killed you twice.

The hunt happened quick. They burned the house down, stabbed you in the back once you got close enough to chew off just one person. But by then it was too late. The sun was peeking from the horizon, and for a moment time slowed down. You were distracted by the sight itself, the harsh rays of the morning sun as they hit you directly in the face. It was warm at first, a sight you hadn’t seen in months, and for a second you missed that feeling. The heat, the cool warmth that stretched through your body, but it didn’t stop.

Turned from warmth into something sharper, it wasn’t comfort anymore. It blistered, and bit into your skin, burning something quick into you. The body betrayed itself stuck rooted to the ground, through weakness, surrender, just the knowing of what was happening. And you had to let it happen. There was no sanctuary left.

It burned something awful, you could feel the fire eating through your flesh, spreading through every inch of your body with no hesitation.

Everything collapsed inward— nerve endings alight, consciousness flickering, that final inhale before nothing remains.

Not fear or worry, or sorrow, but recognition. You knew the end was always going to come. Just expected it to be peaceful, later in life when you were fully ready. This is just the way it chose.

Maybe you’d felt regret, maybe relief. But there silence, it happened too quick to scream, but the sight was too gorgeous to miss out on. The memories. The people you knew, the ones you lost, the ones who made you keep going. You were ready, you forced yourself to be ready. This is how it had to be. But for that split moment, the moment before you disappeared forever. For good this time. Questions kept repeating in your head, some of anger, some of worry, some of fear.

Had he abandoned you?

Did he run because he had to, or because he chose to?

Did they get to him first?

Was he already waiting for you where the sun won’t hurt?

At first, your brain refused to register the absence entirely, and then confusion took place, warping into something of unease. Not because of the feeling of skin on fire, or the final glimpse of the sun, but because something vital had been ripped away.

Then fear, for him— for whatever fate caught up to him before it happened to you.

But then anger— cause all that teaching had been for nothing. And if he left willingly, if he didn’t tell her, if he thought disappearing was better than staying, you would’ve spent your entirety of eternal life wishing him to damnation.

Finally. Finally, something quieter, acceptance, maybe, or something close to it. The silence was finally normal, freeing, unweighted. Light. Things left behind didn’t matter, they couldn’t matter. Things were different now. They were meant to be. A final change in the air—a subtle shift of understanding. No need for an answer to waiting just beyond. You could be.

A final, broken inhale— brief, clipped, too hot. A sigh that shifted the slowness of the moment and finally brought you back to reality, back to the burning and the pain and the fire. There was no need for a reaction, no need for a scream or a cry. You were home.

And then that warmth. The heat inside you growing and growing until it burst into a thousand suns. Until you faded away into the morning sky.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Bucky Barnes’ child

Bucky Barnes x child!reader

warnings: SA IMPLICATIONS. guns violence death etc

a/n: this fic is slow to start bc of backstory/worldbuilding. bc it starts when bucky is in hydra theres not a ton of complex dialogue opportunities until the programming is broken. i tried to skip as much fluff (the unnecessary story, not fluff like cutesy stuff) as i could bc we’ve all watched the captain america movies at this point right? (i only changed a few main details too like zemo waiting for steve and tony instead of hiding and bucky not going into cryo when he goes to wakanda)

prompt: takes place from like pre-CACW to post endgame

ever since bucky had been captured by HYDRA, made into the winter soldier, he was no longer had autonomy

for anything

years of experimenting, testing, training, cryosleep, they all took a toll on him

and as HYDRA evolved new ways to exert their control and influence, they found new ways to torture bucky

now they were taking his DNA to create a new, better soldier—one who knew no old life

the child they’d genetically modified was implanted in another test subject with bucky’s dna

it was no use fighting it, bucky had to comply

you were born 9 months later, and as you grew you were subjected to more tests with hormones and serums that would make you as strong as the super soldier serum

bucky protested the moment he laid eyes on what would be his child

“that is me. that child is apart of me. you can’t expect me to stand by and let you torture them” -bucky

“you are in no position to make demands, or else you will face the consequences” -hydra

they were generous enough to let him name you

“y/n…” -bucky

“good, good. now y/n will be a good soldier for us, you will make sure of that” -hydra

“what? no—i can’t” -bucky

“stop it! you will do as i say or i will say the words to make you” -hydra

you were held over his head every time he strayed until he was a shell of himself

he trained you, but was not allowed to do anything more. he wanted to badly to be a father to you and take you away from this, but he’d disconnect the moment his trigger words were spoken

he was desperate to break free and take you with him

he coped in his dreams. in his dreams he was your dad and you were his child.

and even after mind wipes, he felt that connection to you

to you, that was the winter soldier. the man that trained you until he was put back on ice

you and him operated on opposite stints for a few years when you were skilled enough, around your mid teens

your first mind wipe came when you were sent to retrieve stolen information from a rogue hydra agent—that’s when you learned the truth and failed your first mission

“wait! please! i can tell you everything you didn’t know. you are the winter soldier’s child! i have the proof in that briefcase you’re holding. don’t kill me, please!” -defector

for the first time, you hesitated and decided to listen. your gun was still pointed at the man, you flipped through the files, you found your profile. and bucky’s.

“see?! i told you. they genetically engineered you to be their perfect soldier with his DNA! he was a prisoner of world war two, his real name is james barnes. you are y/n barnes. i watched them wipe his memory when he started to fight my superiors on how they treated you. he doesn’t remember.” -defector

you spared the man and took the files

and confronted your keepers at HYDRA

“the winter soldier is my father?! the man who trained me my whole life—and you removed that memory from him?” -you, slamming the files down on alexander pierce’s desk

“i am very disappointed in you…you’ve never failed a mission before. maybe it’s time for your attitude correction” -pierce

you were strapped down and mind-wiped but after the third time finding out and going ballistic you were still pretty lucid.

minds are harder to be broken when they come that way.

“you are my enemy. you hold me captive to do your bidding. you kidnapped my father and turned him into a weapon. you created me to be a weapon. and now, i’m going to kill you” -you

they quickly activated the winter soldier to subdue you, but you managed to drop a few bodies before you were taken down

they decided to put you on ice. permanently.

it was the mid-90s by now and with the loss of you as an asset, HYDRA decided to find new operatives

trained soliders were administered the serum and trained by the winter soldier to be better than him, but the project failed after they all turned on HYDRA

they were then put on ice like you, and stored with you in a HYDRA base in siberia

years went by and bucky was all alone, but when he saw steve again and broke from his trance, his mind started to uncloud

bucky fled to romania feeling something was missing. someone

but no matter what he did, he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. who he missed.

it kept him tossing and turning at night

and one day he risked trying to access the HYDRA files the black widow had leaked

he found his own file, and that led him to you

your picture. his kid. y/n barnes. born in 1960. put into cryostasis intermittently for testing and permanently in 1990. residing at the sibera base of operations.

he started to remember you. training you, caring for you, missing you.

fortunately or unfortunately, bucky was framed for a terrorist attack and steve tracked him down to clear him

and once it was safe to talk (after bucky was arrested and zemo activated the winter soldier and steve and sam got bucky to a safe location) bucky told steve everything

“steve. i have a kid. they need me.” -bucky

“are they like you?” -steve

“yes. they were an experiment, i trained them. HYDRA put them on ice after they broke from their programming. i found the files your friend leaked, i know where they’re keeping y/n” -bucky

“y/n? you always liked that name.” -steve

“they let me name y/n” -bucky, chuckling “i was never allowed to be a father, though. i want to be. now that im free”

“we can help with that. what can we do?” -sam

“i know where they’re keeping them. but there are more” -bucky

“more kids? jesus, man” -sam

“no, no. no more kids. other soldiers” -bucky

“super soldiers?” -steve

“after y/n failed as a winter soldier, they started a new program with an elite death squad. it didn’t work out, so they got put on ice with y/n” -bucky

and that sparked the effort to fix bucky’s image and get you back, all the while avoiding tony’s resistance

when bucky and steve finally broke through tony’s defenses, bucky felt so much relief that he’d soon see you again—regardless of the dire circumstances

he expected to fight the other winter soldiers as he arrived—and shocked to find each of them dead and zemo standing in front of you, still asleep, pointing a gun at your head through the glass

“don’t do this, zemo. what do you want?” -steve

“i want my wife and child back. you avengers are responsible for their deaths. sokovia, just a year ago. the avengers don’t care for collateral damage, why should i?” -zemo

“i want my kid back, too. that’s why im here” -bucky, looking at you

“why do you think you deserve them, winter soldier? you have caused nothing but pain and suffering to everyone you have come into contact with for decades, you are dangerous and so is this one” -zemo

tony charged him to save you

the gun went off and broke the glass of your pod, just missing you

but it ended your cryostasis and you slowly began to wake in an emergency protocol

while this happened, zemo activated the tape to distract tony—the tape of bucky killing tony’s parents

“you knew?” -tony

“i didn’t know it was him” -steve

by the time their battle concluded, you stumbled from your pod. you saw the dead soldiers stored beside you. you investigated your surroundings and there you saw it. the man with the metal arm

“dad?” -you, for the first time

“y/n…” -bucky, running to hug you

you’d never gotten a hug before. never been shown affection. barely been called by your name. you had no idea where you were or how you’d been woken up, but your dad’s arms were wrapped around you and the world stood still a moment

“i thought i’d never see you again” -bucky

“how is this possible? wait, what year is it?” -you

“2016” -steve

“i’ve been frozen 26 years?!” -you “hang on. is that captain america?”

“that’s my best friend, steve rogers” -bucky

“nice to meet you, y/n” -steve “buck, we gotta get out of here, its not safe”

t’challa, the prince of wakanda, granted you both sanctuary as bucky and you needed help acclimating to the world and undoing all that programming

you were a lot better off than him. you didn’t have trigger words because you’d been conditioned since birth—it didn’t seem necessary at the time. training in espionage helped you to act more like a normal person and not a russian super soldier. but your real issue was bonding, human connection, emotion. things that had been suppressed your whole life

you always felt connected to bucky though

bucky started from scratch with you. he told you about his childhood and his friendship with steve. his parents. trips to the fair. enlisting in the army. bad dates. good dates. what he wanted in life. his plans for you even though you didn’t come into his life the way he planned it

you were physically in your late teens at this point but chronologically you were in your late fifties. there were a lot of jokes made about it.

you definitely could make light of your situation, even if you missed out on pretty much every single normal thing imaginable

t’challa gifted a stuffed animal “from your home” to give to you

“it says ‘i heart new york,’ i thought it would be a nice gesture” -t’challa

“thank you, t’challa. i really hope y/n likes it” -bucky

“for someone with a background like that, they seem to be very well adjusted. i know it’s new being a father, but you are doing great” -t’challa

“that…means a lot. i really thought i was doing something wrong” -bucky

“do not doubt yourself, my friend. now go, you’re depriving your child of a teddy bear” -t’challa

bucky was beaming when he found you to give you this stuffed bear. and for the first time since you two finally became a family, you cried.

“thank you. it’s…it’s really cute. i love it” -you, beginning to sob like a switch inside you just flipped

“hey, hey, what’s wrong? why are you crying” -bucky

“i don’t know” -you

“it’s okay. i get it. it’s weird being a person again—your own person” -bucky

“i was never my own person though. i was always HYDRA’s” -you

“you’re right. i’m sorry. they never let you be a kid” -bucky

“i’m sorry for stabbing you when i was a kid” -you “i wouldn’t have done that if i knew you were my dad”

“it’s okay, i cherished the scar. it was sort of like a gift?” -bucky, chuckling

“don’t be weird. i stabbed you” -you

“and i trained you to stab me. that means you were doing well” -bucky

“you were holding back. now i know why” -you, staring at the teddy bear “are you sure you want to be a father to me? i’m sure i’m not ideal”

“of course i do. i don’t care how it happened. you are mine and i will always be here for you.” -bucky

“promise?” -you

“i promise, y/n. from the moment they let me hold you, i knew i would do whatever it took to keep you safe. and fifty years later, we’re finally free” -bucky

wakanda was nice. quiet where you guys settled. they did their work to help bucky, and shuri actually made an effort to help you feel “normal” and “modern”

“i picked some clothes out for you. they’re very american, but i tried to pick a style i think would suit you. none of that leather shit you wore when you were on missions. this is much more comfortable” -shuri “i also picked out some movies i think you and your father would like. well, some i wouldn’t watch with my dad, i put them in a separate pile”

that’s how movie nights started

“you know, when i was a kid we could only watch movies in theaters. and all the movies were in black and white. some were even silent” -bucky

“i get it, dad. you’re ancient” -you, exaggeratingly rolling your eyes

“hey, you’re even rolling your eyes like a normal kid. that’s what i call progress” -bucky

shuri snuck “the wizard of oz” into the stack, which got bucky super excited

“oh! this is the last movie i saw before i went overseas. we need to watch this one” -bucky

he hummed to the music and you couldn’t help but smile. especially when he started to mumble the words to “somewhere over the rainbow”

it made you jealous of the fact you were never a kid with a dad tucking you in at night and singing you to sleep

but you just smiled and kept your mouth shut, letting bucky enjoy his old memories and make new ones with you

shuri knew what she was doing with these movies for sure.

she gave you some music to listen to and shows to watch and taught you how to use social media to catch up on the times. basically anything to keep you busy while they worked on bucky.

and one day they said his trigger words and he was perfectly fine. no more winter soldier.

you cried with him

this was it. nothing more hanging over your heads. this was freedom in its purest form.

“we can finally build a life, y/n. what would you want to do first?” -bucky

“i honestly wouldn’t know where to start” -you

as badly as you were ready to have your dad for good, start a normal life in new york like he wanted, things weren’t so simple. he was a wanted fugitive and you were a ghost.

and then thanos happened

you protected wakanda as best as you could, but you failed

“dad? no! dad, i can’t lose you again!” -you as bucky dusted away

you were alone again

separated. torn apart. ruined. agonized. bucky was gone and you were alive and after all that work you were alone again.

steve sought to it that you were taken care of

and steve you knew. you knew him from stories. bucky was friends with him since they were kids. they fought in the war together. steve saved bucky and saved you.

“y/n. come to new york with me. i want to be there for you” -steve

you agreed, and for a short period of time you thought you could bring him back

but by the time you found thanos you knew it was over

steve tried to get you to stay with him, but you needed more than that

so he gave his blessing to nat to make you an avenger. train you to use what you were made for to be good and fight to keep the world safe.

“i’m doing this on the condition that you balance your life out. now that you live in new york, i’m here for you. i grew up with your dad, i know what he always wanted for his kid and i want to give that to you since he can’t” -steve

“you want to replace him?” -you

“absolutely not, y/n. i want to fulfill his wishes. i loved bucky, he was the only family i had growing up. now i want to be yours” -steve

you accepted steve’s effort, you accepted him as family. you listened to him, went to him for advice, made a name for yourself as an avenger, made memories with your chosen family

steve took you to dinner once a week to catch up, even if you guys weren’t feeling up to it he kept you in a routine

“what kind of food do you want to try tonight?” -steve

“i haven’t tried chinese food yet” -you

“oh, my god. why did i wait so long to get you chinese food. there’s so many things to choose from, you’ll love it” -steve “i remember when i was introduced to chinese food. best day ever.”

he always tried to make you feel better when you were down

“you know your dad shot me once when he was the winter soldier?” -nat, showing you her scar

“you know i stabbed him during training when i was a kid?” -you

steve told you the story about bucky blowing $50 trying to win a prize at a fair for a girl he just met

“he had the name ‘y/n’ picked since we were young, you know?” -steve

it was incredible that there was still someone alive from his past. what were the odds?

steve made you feel closer to him

as the world slowly healed, so did you

you trained with nat a lot and she always noticed which moves you taught yourself and which ones bucky taught you

and now she was teaching you black widow moves!

you slept with the bear bucky gave you in wakanda every night

you aimed to make him proud of you every waking moment

“i miss him” -you “why doesn’t anything ever work out?”

“i wish i had an answer for you, kiddo” -steve

you hadn’t seen tony stark since thanos died. and he wasn’t your biggest fan having been the son of a couple your father happened to murder.

but when scott lang, someone believed to have been a victim of thanos, appeared at the avengers compound, you didn’t have much a choice

tony gave you a weird look when you got to his house. you understood. but after shutting down nat, steve, and scott, he gave you a hug?

“i don’t hate you. i know that’s what you’re thinking. you’re a good kid and i’m glad you found your place in the world. i’m sorry for the hand you were dealt” -tony

you were stunned.

“before you ask me why i’m saying all of this—being a father changes you. weird, huh? i remember the day we found you in that pod. and i almost killed your dad for killing mine. but water under the bridge. i’m glad you guys got the chance to be a family, even if it was only brief” -tony

nat pulled you back to the car while you were tearing up. you got your hopes up. tony’s heart to heart made you even more emotional. and hey, nat had been teaching you to feel your emotions the way she was taught to when she was freed from the red room—now they were your biggest weakness

“tony meant well, y/n. he didn’t mean to upset you” -steve

“no, i know. i just wasn’t expecting him to be nice is all. it meant a lot. and i’m a little disappointed he didn’t help, but i get it. it was a big ask” -you

the way cassie reunited with scott when he came back, that’s what scott was thinking about. he wished you could have that with your dad. its a dad thing. scott was crying too. you were a bit confused by that.

“sorry. i just—im a little sensitive. please just ignore me” -scott

“i’m trying but you are ugly crying” -you

scott gave you a very tight hug. very fatherly.

“remember i’m a trained assassin” -you

“trained assassins still need hugs” -scott

“he’s right” -nat

all hope seemed lost

but a curious tony brainstormed a bit and ended up discovering the key to time travel and…the mission was a-go

you went to new york 2012 to get the infinity stones back. stuck with steve. you’d heard stories of this battle from steve and nat, it was entirely different to see it in person.

you didn’t have much to say here. the mission didn’t go as planned and you weren’t so connected to this event that it’d be significant. you panicked as everything went to shit.

“we have one more shot. but y/n, you can’t come with us” -tony

“what?! why not. we’re in this together!” -you

“he’s right, y/n. it wouldn’t be right” -steve

“where the hell are you going? why is this such a big deal?” -you

“SHIELD. 1970. they didn’t know HYDRA had infiltrated them and we cant risk you changing history” -tony

“you’re barring me from the most important mission of my life because you think im going to mess up the timeline?!” -you

“yep!” -tony, hitting the button on your arm to send you back to the present “what? it was good timing. wasn’t like y/n was gonna do it themself”

“it was a little harsh” -steve

“hey, i’m raising a kid of my own now. sometimes you gotta be stern” -tony

“yeah, it’s different when they’re in their 20’s and had no autonomy for fifty years” -steve

“what a dilemma…they’ll get over it” -tony

you spawned back at the avengers compound present day with the rest of them

“dick move, tony!” -you, lunging forward

“hey, hey, it’s over now, we did what we needed, everything is fine. take a breath” -steve, intercepting

then clint dropped to his knees

“where’s nat?”

your stomach dropped. she’s gone. another person lost to you.

you could have given up right there, you’d lost that last bit of willpower

but steve wouldn’t let you

scott was actually the one to try to comfort you while the rest of the crew mourned. you felt bad, you didn’t know her as long as everyone else

“hey, i know i haven’t known you that long, but i know you’ve known natasha for the past five years. just because you don’t go all the way back to 2012 with these people doesn’t mean you cant have feelings about it. she was your family too” -scott

“you know, your daughter is lucky to have a dad like you” -you

“i’ll have you know, i was a real idiot for a really long time. i got arrested when she was a kid, didnt see her for years, fought to get custody, saved her from an evil guy in a yellowjacket suit, went to germany to go fight with cap and your dad, went on the run, got arrested again, went under house arrest, and then got stuck in the quantum realm for five years. sometimes you just have to roll with the punches, okay? progress isn’t linear and life is rarely fair” -scott

“how’s your daughter?” -you

“really good. older. that part sucks. and when your dad sees you again—and he will—yours gonna be older too and he’s gonna look at you with so much pride, im sure of it. wanna know why? because you saved the day” -scott

steve finally found you and apologized for not comforting you sooner

“it’s okay, scott kept me company” -you

“uncle scott” -scott

“don’t push it” -you

“we’re ready” -steve

bruce did the honors and snapped the population back. and then past thanos showed up.

now it was time to fight

winning came at a cost—another life lost

you saw your dad again. felt whole again.

he grabbed you by the face

“you’re getting old” -bucky

“please, with these genes i’ll look like this forever” -you

you hugged him tight and for a second time in your life, the world stopped spinning

now was time for damage control

you gave steve a big hug and a “good luck”

“love you, kiddo” -steve

“what’s that thing dad says? ‘dont do anything stupid til i get back?’” -you

“you told them that?!” -bucky

“oh, he told me sooo much” -you

“hey, what can i say? i never listen” -steve

and then steve vanished. and panic ensued when he didn’t come back—until they noticed the old man on the bench

“why?” -you

“you guys don’t need me anymore. you have each other” -steve

“i’ll always need you, steve. you’re family” -you

you wanted to stop losing people. but at least this time it felt okay

“what now, dad?” -you, tears in your eyes

“well, what did i miss this time?” -bucky

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @lenaelleu //

[somewhereincairparavel]

just thinking about how Jason grace had his entire life molded from the day he was born, nothing in his life was authentic, even his own name was an offering to appease a goddess.

he also died being so distant from everyone he knew (don't get me wrong, I know he was friends with the 7, but If I'm being realistic here and go by canon, only Leo and Nico were actually "close" with Jason, and maybe Percy a bit) I mean, Annabeth took a long time to warm up to Jason and didn't trust him, Hazel never quite forgave jason for mistrusting nico (I'm still a lil bitter about this one lol bc she easily forgave Leo simply bc he's Sammy's great grandkid, and Leo's kinda the one who initiated the suspicion in the first place yet she got so mad at Jason for simply laying out the arguments and exerting caution?? Yeah I know she was upset that her brother was in danger but she never even gave Jason a chance even after nicos rescue, I'm not tryna blame Leo or anything but I think they BOTH should've been forgiven equally, esp since Jason's encouragement in house of hades fuelled nico to break out of his shell), Frank saw of Jason as more of a hero and looked up to him (still avenged his death tho so big W), Piper dumped him and canonically was outwardly bitchy/a little hostile to him after the breakup.

EVEN coach hedge and mellie were such jerks to him bc they assumed HE dumped Piper. Still wished Piper made it clear to them that the break up wasn't Jason's fault but ofc she didnt. TOA Piper is such an L

He never saw Leo again and never got to spend the summer with Nico in camp half blood like he planned to. His dad is a jackass and didn't shed a single tear at his death, his sister had her own life and he felt like she didn't need him anymore.

Reyna, Jason's childhood friend grew distant from him bc of her romantic feelings + the whole Venus mess (which is no fault of her's tho, mind you)

He never felt "at home" in camp Jupiter even after he got his memory back because all he did over there was military duties.

I don't think he got his full memory back properly either because, Percy had the gorgons blood but he didn't. I'm speculating this because he still felt very disconnected to Camp Jupiter and Rome.

He never got to do what he wanted, and even if he succeeded in defeating Caligula, jason STILL never would've gotten freedom, since he promised the minor gods that he'd build temples on their behalfs, and was Prontifex Maximus. He made a diorama and everything.

His Greek friends never made it to his funeral. They never got to say goodbye.

and as Apollo noted, he died with his fingers pointing, like he was still telling them all to escape without him. His chest was spewing out blood and jason still plucked up the energy to tell tempest to get Apollo and Piper to safety.

Jason Grace was born a Roman soldier, and died a Roman soldier, full circle. He never became a grandpa to his and piper's grandchildren like he wanted to.

[stargrillzz]

I hate u (but not really)

summary: She’s impulsive. He’s impossible. Teamed up on missions and constantly at each other’s throats, they’d rather fight than cooperate.

note: Im telling u, this is gonna be a series, and it’s gonna be THE BEST, ok maybe not but still kinda good. (plus, i had to edit this in my phone so if titles or shit like that are not aligned or well situated it’s bc I cannot make it any better on my phone, sorry!).xoxo

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV

Too young, too bitter (chapter I)

mission gone wrong, obviously his fault

“You want me to follow him?” you ask, deadpan, staring at the glowing mission tablet in your hands. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Natasha replies without looking up from her gear bag. “You’re on recon with Barnes. Sam and I take the northern perimeter. Steve’s running point with Wanda.”

You glance across the hangar. Bucky stands at the Quinjet, arms crossed, looking like someone just asked him to eat a salad for breakfast.

“Can’t I just—switch with Sam or something?” you plead. “I’d rather spend two hours listening to Tony explain quantum physics in Klingon than spend one more minute with his cranky ass.”

From across the hangar, Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You know I can hear you, right?”

You don’t even flinch. “Good.”

He scoffs and turns back to the Quinjet. You groan.

Later, high above the city skyline, the two of you move through the crumbling remains of an abandoned HYDRA base. You’re nimble, fast, clearing rooms ahead of him like a blur.

“You going to keep rushing ahead like a toddler on Red Bull?” Bucky mutters through comms.

“You going to keep walking like your hips are made of rust and regret?” you shoot back.

“Maybe if someone followed the damn plan—”

“Maybe if someone updated their attitude post-WWII—”

“Guys,” Natasha cuts in over comms. “Shut up.”

You both go silent.

But it doesn’t last.

In one of the darker corridors, a security turret snaps to life.

You dodge. Bucky shoots. It barely misses your shoulder.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you snap, panting behind cover.

“You jumped in front of my shot!”

“I moved like a normal person. You aimed like my grandma.”

His voice comes through low and annoyed: “If you’d stop acting like a reckless kid—”

“And if you’d stop acting like every decision is life or death, maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in this eternal pissing contest!”

There’s a pause.

“Is that what this is? A contest?” he says, dryly.

“No,” you reply, stepping out from cover, voice icy. “Because I’m already winning.”

cold war (a.k.a the pettiest show on Earth)

Back at the tower, your feud reaches a level of childish few Avengers have witnessed before.

The thermostat war begins Monday.

You like the lounge at a cool 21°C. Bucky, the 106-year-old relic of a man, insists on setting it to an unholy 25. You start changing it every time he leaves the room. He starts locking the settings.

You hack it.

He disconnects it from the Wi-Fi.

You tape a printed photo of yourself next to the controls flipping the bird with a sticky note: "This war is mine."

Tuesday, you label everything in the fridge.

Not just your food. Everything.

"YOGURT — NOT BUCKY'S"

"JUICE — MINE. NOT GRUMPY GHOST VETERAN'S."

"LEFTOVER PASTA — TOUCHED BY ME. HOPE YOU LIKE GERMS."

The next day, your stash is replaced with MREs and a Post-it that just says “Try being less annoying.”

You leave his arm polish in the freezer.

He doesn’t speak to you for two days.

things (almost) gets physical

You’re sparring in the gym. Steve pairs you up intentionally, everyone in the tower Stark can’t take anymore you two fighting and failing on missions all the time.

You glare at Bucky from across the mat. He rolls his eyes.

"You know, we could skip this,” he mutters, rolling his shoulder.

“What, afraid I’ll kick your ass?” you ask sweetly.

“I’m afraid I’ll say something you’ll cry about for three hours.”

You lunge. He blocks. You spin and catch him with a leg sweep, sending him stumbling.

He recovers fast, grabs your arm, and flips you—hard. You hit the mat with a dull thud.

“Oops,” he says, smirking.

“You’re such a child,” you hiss, wiping blood from your lip.

“Says the one who labeled her yogurt.”

You go at him again, and this time, your fight looks more like a bar brawl than training. Steve has to physically step between you, catching your wrist mid-swing.

“Okay!” he says, laughing nervously. “Let’s dial it back.”

Bucky huffs and storms off.

You’re left breathless, heart pounding—not just from the fight.

There was a moment in there.

A second where he was above you on the mat, hands gripping your wrists, your faces inches apart, and your pulse jumped for a completely different reason.

You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

white flag

It’s a week later when you find Bucky alone on the balcony during one of Tony’s ridiculous rooftop parties. Everyone else is drinking and dancing under string lights. He’s nursing a beer, watching the city.

You don’t say anything at first. Just lean next to him, close enough to feel his presence but not close enough to be soft.

He glances at you.

You both sigh at the same time.

“I still think you’re too bitter for your own good,” you say eventually.

He chuckles. “And you’re still an immature pain in my ass.”

You clink your glass against his bottle.

“Glad we understand each other.”

He glances sideways at you, and for the first time, there’s no venom in it.

Just something... complicated.

“You’re not that bad,” he says.

You smirk. “Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

You stand in silence again, this time comfortably. Maybe this cold war isn’t over. But you’ve both stopped firing missiles.

For now.

Would you like a follow-up chapter where all this tension explodes into something more intimate (or romantic), or maybe a scene where they have to pretend to get along during a mission undercover as a couple?