#and those against us will continue trying to divide us because it's much easier to pick us off that way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 2 years ago

Text

Three's a crowd

Pairings: Eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington

Summary: There's really no plot, just something smutty with our favorite boys. You've been a brat, and now your boyfriends have to punish you.

Warnings: unprotected sex, established poly relationship, threesome(fmm), Daddy kink, mention of spankings,edging, crying. Brief mention of bindings, use of fingers to gag. Face slapping (just once) Sir and Daddy are used. Steve and eddie refer to the reader as princess and baby.

A/n a short little fic because why not. Divider by me.

18+ no minors not proofread

"M'sorry...so so sorry," you whined arching your back as Steve slowly rubbed his cock in-between your wet folds nudging your sore clit ever so slightly. He smirks, looking down at you as he slaps his cock one more time against your clit making your body twitch.

"Hmm, I don't think you're that sorry princess," Eddie spoke from above you as he moved teased and pinch at your nipples making them harden.

Your face tear stained and body already sore from Eddie previously fucking you. Trying your best to think about anything else but coming as Steve's thick cock prodes at your entrance. Your pussy dripping with your slick and Eddie's cum. Making it so much easier for him to just glide all the way in with ease.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Steve slowly spreads you open. He starts a slow and gentle pace at first, letting you get used to the feel of him. "ooh, you've been a v-very bad girl." Your other boyfriend stuttered as his cock started pumping in and out of you lazily.

You were a brat earlier, snapping at both of them for the smallest things imaginable. They took your cruel words and frustrations in stride as you stomped your way around the house.

Eddie and Steve were always very patient with you. They'd rather talk it out and see if the problem could be resolved before they resorted to a punishment. Not saying they didn't love a good punishment because they did, especially Eddie. They just felt it was more fair to talk things out first before resorting to a punishment, and then talking about the problem afterwards.

This time around, it's different you refused to talk it out. You don't really know exactly what's wrong with you to even have one of those "little" talks. You refused to let them know their lack of attention and affection is the real cause of your attitude. Ever since Eddie got his own mechanic shop and steve got that promotion, you didn't see them as much.

The dinners you had ended up being two phone calls saying sorry they couldn't make it. Which left you to either eating dinner alone or not at all. Most of time they would get home to you already sleeping in your shared bed. You couldn't help the way you were acting. You even knew how insufferable you were being towards them, but instead of stopping, it continued on.

You got yourself into all this mess when Eddie came home a little earlier than expected. You were obviously not in the mood to deal with him. He marched in the house with his big dumb grin, and all you could do was roll your eyes and scoff. That's when he absolutely had enough and practically threw you over his lap as he sat on the couch, spanking you as hard as he could.

He tried getting you to talk to him after your punishment, but you still refused. Even after Eddie spanked you hard enough, it left your legs wobbly. His hand burning from the impacts he made to your ass.

You still gave an attitude. He tried wiping the tears from your face, but you just turned away from him on the couch. He just sighs, growing more frustrated by the minute, but he still tries to get you to open up.

"Please tell me what's wrong, princess." His voice soft as he moves a piece of hair out of your face. Deciding to continue giving the silent treatment instead of just being honest, that's when Steve walked in. He wasted no time rushing over to you, seeing your puffy eyes red with tears still slowly falling. He's immediately glaring towards Eddie, asking what happened.

"She's been a brat almost all week, so I had no choice but to teach her a lesson." He defended himself.

"Did you try talking to her first?" Steve argued back with Eddie as he sat next to you on the couch.

"Did he try talking to you?" He turned and reached out to take your hand only for you to snatch it away.

"See, she's being a brat." Eddie motioned towards you. Steve sighs and gets up from next to you, undoing his tye as he did.

Now you find yourself laying at the edge of the bed being edged by both men for what feels like hours. Eddie is already having his fun with you. He was a lot rougher than Steve is being. Eddie tied your hands together while he licked, sucked and played with your pussy. Teasing and kissing it driving you wild and on the brink of an orgasm with each flick of his tongue on your aching clit.

His moved his mouth down to your entrance never breaking eye contact as he spits on it before fucking you with his tongue. Your thighs shake faster as his grip on them tightened. The sounds coming out of your mouth were almost pornographic as Eddie buried his tongue deep inside your pussy. He knew exactly how to get you just on the brink of your release, only stopping just when you were almost there.

The moment Eddie's cock slipped inside you he was a wild man. He didn't take his time or let you adjust to his size. Once he was in, he set a brutal pace, making you writhe under him. His balls slapped into your already very tender and sore ass. He shoves two ringed fingers in your mouth gagging your cries. Drool spilling down your chin soaking his fingers driving him crazy.

"Such a bad fucking girl." He growled as his nostrils flare causing your pussy to clenches around him.

"Say it. Say I'm a bad girl." He continued to growl. His voice becoming horse and you choke back a sob.

His fingers still deep in your mouth, you gag around them again. "I-I'm a b-bad girl." Your voice muffled as saliva spills out coating Eddie's ringed fingers.

Eddie didn't take long before his cock was spilling his cum inside you, filling you to the brim. After Eddie was finished, he pulled out a little too harsh, causing you to gasp at the sudden loss. Steve took his time, letting you cool down before it was his turn to play with you.

"Ready for me, baby?" Steve cooed as he moved to nestle himself between your trembling weak thighs. He spits on his hand rubbing it in his cock giving himself a few quick strokes.

Your eyes glossed over, and mind hazy. You guess you didn't hear him clear enough to respond in time. Before a sharp smack to your cheek brought you out of your daze.

"He asked you a question." Eddie's voice stern but raspy as he spoke from behind you.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy and Sir I didn't hear you." Steve chuckles and rubs your stinging cheek.

"I said are you ready for me?" He repeated himself. You nodd in response but Steve clicks his tongue in disapproval. "Use your words baby like the good girl I know you are."

Sniffling just a little buy you take a deep breath "I'm ready."

He smiles down at you undoing the bindings Eddie previously put around your wrists. "See that wasn't so hard now was it?"

Steves cock begins to slide between your wet fold. Dipping down to your entrance coating his cock in your slick and Eddie's cum. You clench around nothing as he continues teasing your pussy. You choke back another sob when his tip slides right over your neglected clit. You're trying your best not to cum but you don't think you can hold it any longer.

"Oooh, please, I promise I'll be a good girl." You begged, causing both men to laugh simultaneously.

Eventually, Steve aligns himself up with you pushing in slowly until he's bottoming out. Your body shudders and legs tremble at the feeling of him stretching you open. You bite down on your lower lip as you reach out to grip Eddie's forearm.

"F-fuck, I promise I'll be good just please let me cum." You begged them both as tears spilled from your eyes.

"No." His voice coming out harsh.

Steves pace quickened and squelching sound of your pussy getting louder as he fucked you harder. His hips slammed into yours as your moans turned into more begging and pleading. Unfortunately for you, they fall on deaf ears. Steve and Eddie weren't gonna let you off the hook that easy. This was your punishment, and they were sticking to it.

"You like that, huh? " He asked as his cock was buried deep inside hitting that sweet spot just right. His breathing became ragged with each stroke. He was getting close, you could tell. His thrusts are getting sloppy and frantic. "fuuucking christ." He whispered.

You can feel that coil in your belly tightens, and you try your best to ignore it again. You know it won't end well if you cum without permission. Steve is getting close and before you know it you feel his cock twitch inside you coating your walls with his cum as well. He continues slamming his hips against yours as he milks every last drop of his release.

He hauls his movements as both your sweaty bodies go limp. Your breathing harsh and your legs trembling worse than before. Steve gently removes himself from inside you allowing his and Eddie's cum trickle out. Eddie quickly comes to your aide as Steve composes himself.

Eddie was always a little more meaner when it came to punishment, but quick and gentle with the aftercare. Waiting on your hand and foot making sure you're okay. Steve on the other hand gave you some space as to not overwhelm you, but still gave praise.

"You did so good baby." Eddie praised.

Your voice weak and bearly audible "Thank you sir."

You wrap your arms around his body as he helps you lay back on your pillows. Your mind clouded and your body weak. The throbbing between your legs is still uncomfortably noticeable after being edged with no release. Eddie shushes you as he laid down.

"Don't get too comfortable, princess, we're not done yet." Steve spoke up from across the room, he lights up a cigarette.

You didn't even notice he got up from where you both were lying. Eddie looked over at you and Steve with a mischievous grin on his face. That's when you just knew you were in for a very long night.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steddie x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #my writing

487 notes · View notes

thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

Text

A rekindled jealousy || Neteyam & Ao’nung & Tuk x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: When you leave the Omaticaya clan behind, your entire life changes. You may have a hard time adjusting to Metkayina's ways, but you use the opportunity to wake some jealousy in Neteyam

Warnings: fluff & a little bit of angst ( ✓ Tuk being a little naughty, inquisitive shit ✓ Ao'nung being visibly into the reader ✓ jealous Neteyam) ♥

Word count: 3490

Authors: Cass & Fenrir

A/N: Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

We will adapt, his father said. Adaptation is inevitable, it's not like we have a choice. Adaptation had multiple meanings, and the Sully siblings defined it in their own way. For Kiri, adaptation required finding an inner peace that would make day-to-day tasks much easier. As for Tuk, it meant leaving everything she used to know behind and learning anew how to function among the other clan. In Lo'ak's case, the process was about discovering his inner self - knowing your fears was the path to becoming one with the water. Accordingly, for Neteyam adaptation meant being obedient and following his parents' orders. As the oldest, he knew that getting into trouble was the last thing they needed right now; he would again be punished by his father and grounded, for life this time, there was no doubt.

Despite not being a part of Neytiri's family, you became close to her as her friends' daughter, and Neyam was delighted that his parents had taken you along with them - after your parents died in yet another battle against RDA, Jake Sully's wife decided to care for their daughter. You became his best friend after many years spent together, and the fact that you were female didn't change anything - the eldest son of Jake and Neytiri was treating you like the best buddy, hanging out with you as much as possible. Despite moving to a brand-new location because of Quaritch and his buddies, Neteyam still preferred to spend time with you, diligently learning new things from Metkayina.

As you sat on a large rock, frowning, you tried your finest to weave nets. As you tapped your tail angrily against the hard surface, your fingers continued to work on your latest yet unsuccessful attempt; at least this was slightly better than the previous one. As each second passed, you grew more and more annoyed.

Little did you know that Ao'nung and his friends were observing you from a distance. Following a brief exchange of glances with his friends, he approached you. Even though he wasn't a big fan of the Sully family, you seemed so different from them, which made you more appealing. In addition, you had four fingers, so you weren't as strange as those Sullys' demon kids. "Y/N, right? I see you're struggling with weaving," he smiled at you and offered, "Why don't you join my friends and me in the water instead?"

You looked at your messed up work and then at him; maybe continuing wasn't necessary at the moment - your fingers hurt and you were getting frustrated, so you decided a small break was needed. Also, that could be very interesting. You smiled back and nodded, "I'd love to." Rotxo nodded his head in agreement as Ao'nung looked at him. "Let's go, it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day weaving," Ao'nung encouraged you to leave your work behind.

Tuk, the youngest Sully, saw the entire situation and then decided to inform her older brother about what she had seen.

One last look at your nets convinced you that there was no point in trying. Your curiosity led you to follow Ao'nung after leaving your work behind.

"So, how do you like it here?" Ao'nung asked, glancing at you with a certain amount of curiosity.

"It's completely different," you replied, your tail flicking from side to side. "There's a lot of water. It's a little unusual for me."

Rotxo laughed a bit at your words. "You tree people can only cling to your lianas, right?"

Ao'nung glanced coldly at Rotxo, conveying his anger towards him. Tonowari's son told you, "Forgive my friend, he's a little crude. Have you already interacted with ilu?" He asked, trying to change the topic.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you hissed offendedly, "Well, he isn't really funny. Well, we can do a lot more than that. And about your question, I'm sorry but I'm not even sure what ilu is," you admitted a bit embarrassed.

Another Ao'nung's friend commented, "She doesn't even know what ilu is, that's ridiculous," but was instantly hit in the back of the head by Tonowari's son.

"An ilu is intelligent, sociable, and easily domesticated animal serves the reef clans, including our clan, as direhorses serve the Na'vi clans of the forests and jungles," Ao'nung explained softly, looking at you. "Do you feel afraid?"

Your interest was piqued by the description of the animal. With your tail moving equally eagerly, you enthusiastically shook your head. "Me? Afraid? No! That sounds fascinating! I'd love to see it." Ao'nung slowly stepped into the water until it reached his muscular calves, then he turned his head to see if you were following. As soon as he was sure you were right behind him, he offered you his hand.

Smiling softly, you took his hand and followed him into the water. Compared to what you were doing moments ago, this was much better, you thought to yourself. The two of you were watched from a distance by Ao'nung's friends, who stayed on the shore. They had no idea that they weren't the only ones watching...

The sound Ao'nung made was like whistling after he clicked his tongue several times. A loud chirping ilu emerged from the water shortly afterward.

"It's loud!" you giggled, feeling even more captivated by the creature. "Are you sure I or you won't be eaten by it?"

"Ilu? Don't worry, they won't bite if they're not bothered. Come, pet it slowly," he advised.

As you nodded slowly, you drew a little closer and gently petted the animal.

Ilu turned his head to you and chirped loudly in anticipation, blinking both pairs of its eyes. A gentle, inviting touch was evidently enjoyed by the animal, whose skin was soft to the touch.

In response to your very first interaction with the ilu, Ao'nung smiled. "You see? No biting."

A giggle escaped your lips, and you nodded in agreement. "I really like how soft and cute it is, and there is no biting at all. I didn’t know they’re so friendly!”

After seeing a small wave coming, he took a step closer to you and put his hand on your waist, supporting you from falling to your back due to the strong drift. "I told you it was worth trying."

"It would be appreciated if the waves were not so strong," you joked and politely thanked him for the support he provided. "In fact, it was well worth trying. This creature is so sweet and soft. If I weren't scared, I'd cuddle it."

"There's nothing stopping you from doing so," he said as his hand stayed on your waist. "First, I would suggest creating a bond, it's safer that way."

Meanwhile, Neteyam joined Ao'nung's friends on the shore. Watching you cooperate with the ilu while sitting under the warm sun was a cute way to spend his spare time. Everything would have been perfect if Ao'nung hadn't been doing everything he could to get closer to you. In the end, Neteyam let out a deep sigh - it seemed you were more interested in Metkayina lately, and he was helpless about it; his only concern was your widely understood happiness.

Your eyes widened when you noticed Neteyam with the corner of your eye. You hummed, pretending to think about Ao'nung's offer. This could make things even more interesting. Immediately, you became more flirtatious with Ao'nung. "Are you really bringing me here just to show me the ilu?"

A cheerful smile was given to you by Tonowari's son, who also petted ilu's head. "Why are you asking, Y/N? I was simply trying to relieve you of the unneeded job you were assigned."

With a soft smile, you teased, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was hoping for more from you, but apparently I was mistaken..."

With a bold move, he touched your shoulder with his palm as he asked, "More like? You know how much I value your friendship more than Sullys', so I'm willing to lend a helping hand whenever I can."

"Friendship may always evolve into something more," you shrugged, still petting the ilu's head.

While chirping loudly, ilu poked you in the side with its velvety muzzle. "We could always give it a chance, Y/N. What do you think?" Ao'nung asked as his hand climbed up your shoulder and landed in your crook of the neck.

"Maybe?" You purred as if you were considering it. Of course, you didn't care about any of this, all you cared about was Neteyam's reaction. Although you felt disappointed with the lack of response so far, you decided to keep trying and maybe coax it out of him.

You were so skilled at pretending that Ao'nung leaned forward, closed his eyes, and attempted to kiss you.

It was enough for Neteyam. When he got up to his feet, he got as close to the water as possible without getting in. Neteyam shouted, "What the hell are you doing, Ao'nung?"

Gasping, you took two small steps away from Ao'nung before looking at Neteyam. Oh, he was angry! "Neteyam, what's wrong?" You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.

The grunt grew louder as Ao'nung opened his eyes and stared at Neteyam as well. "What's your problem, bro?"

"You're acting a bit too brazen, bro, and that's my problem. Leave Y/N alone," Neteyam said after issuing a warning; his eyes were then fixed on you. "Come on, Y/N, I think you still need to finish some things."

Your lips were softly curled into a smile as you whispered, "Yes, I believe I do."

Ao'nung was the first to exit the water, leaving ilu behind. "Well, well, well, look at that, Sully's into our sweet, little Y/N," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

Once you had given the ilu one last pet, you followed Ao'nung towards the shore, thinking how the situation would unfold.

Once Ao'nung got onto the shore, he pushed Neteyam's shoulder strongly with wry words followed by a snort, "Shall I remind you about your position here, Sully? You better be on your best behaviour, as your father suggested."

A frown could be seen on Neteyam's face, but he tried hard to maintain his composure. "Y/N, let's go."

"What's your problem, Net? We didn't do anything wrong, he was just showing me what ilu is."

Tuk, who was partially hidden behind Neteyam's legs, peered out and frowned at you. "We've been here for a while, and you still don't know anything about ilu? Eywa, please hold me tight, I can't deal with Y/N."

Neteyam ruffled his sister's hair and stared at you before saying, "I heard Ronal asked you to help with nets, and you heard what my parents said about us being guests here? We need to adapt and do whatever it takes to avoid being considered useless."

Putting yourself behind Ao'nung, you frowned. "I try to be useful, but making nets is boring and not meant for me? This just seems more fun."

Tuk stuck her tongue out at you, her glance full of concern. "Mom won't be happy."

"Hush," Neteyam whispered to Tuktirey while looking at Ao'nung. "As the chief's son, you should be more reasonable and help Y/N with the tasks she's assigned to."

Your head rested on Ao'nung's shoulder as you gazed at Neteyam. You teased, "Is it your only concern? Or are you simply jealous?"

Neteyam had already had enough of your behaviour - he thought he had shown you many times that you were more valuable to him, yet you seemed more interested in that thick piece of a man, called Ao'nung. "Maybe."

Ao'nung smiled even wider as you patted his shoulder before walking up to Neteyam to take his hand. "Maybe? Just maybe?"

From nowhere, the argument grew into a tornado. The intensity of Neteyam's rage blinded him to your heart and soul. His hand snatched back from your grasp as he snapped at you, "Don't. It seems that Ao'nung has nothing but hots for you, and since you seem to be more than interested, we won't bother you anymore in spending your time with our host. Tuk, come."

The little girl followed her brother enthusiastically, but of course she couldn't help but glance back at you, laying her ears and hissing, showing her perfect, sharp fangs.

It didn't work out as you thought it would; you laid your ears down and hissed back at her, crossing your arms over your chest. A deep sigh was heard from you as you excused yourselves and followed them quickly.

The fact that you followed Sullys was mocked by Ao'nung. "Come on, Y/N! We still might have some fun!”

"Apparently Y/N is more into the eldest of the Sully brothers," Rotxo replied to his friend, and Tonowari's son punched him hard in the side, giving him the coldest look he has ever given to anyone as a warning.

"Neteyam! Tuk! Wait for me!” You shouted after them, attempting to line up with the siblings.

Meanwhile, Neteyam sat on the rock where you had left your unfinished nets.

Since she was angry that you were playing with her beloved brother in such a cruel way, Tuk ignored you perfectly.

After softly sighing, you decided to sit right next to him. "Neteyam... Talk to me. I am sorry for angering you so much."

He answered, "I'm not furious," and continued to work on the weave with his long fingers.

While playing with the sand, Tuk giggled, "He's not angry, he's mad."

"Could you play somewhere else? I want to talk to him alone," you hissed at her.

Tuk stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Don't order me, you're not my mother."

With a sigh, Neteyam told his younger sister to return to their hut and assist Kiri and mother with whatever they were doing.

The young girl complied with her brother's instructions while grunting loudly in annoyance.

You looked at him and sighed, "At least she listens to you. So, will you talk to me?”

"About?"

Then you moved closer to help him weave the net and whispered quietly, "About what happened. I didn't mean to anger you. I'm sorry for leaving my job. It just seemed like a nice offer and I was super flustered."

Without even glancing at you, he asked bitterly, "The offer or Ao'nung?"

Chuckling, you gently pinched his finger and continued to work. "The offer, as I mentioned earlier."

"Yeah. I bet."

"Neteyam," you said, taking his hand in your palm, "Why did you get so angry about me hanging out with him?"

"Hanging out with him, that's the clue," he said angrily, pulling his hand out of your grasp, weaving angry until his fingertips began to hurt - only then Neteyam threw the net away and after letting out a deep sigh, he massaged his temples. "Is he that interesting? Apparently, you were the one who said reef people were strange and unappealing."

"It wasn't because of him, but because I wanted to see an ilu," you explained, rolling your eyes. "There was a chance it would eat him rather than me in the event of an accident."

Neteyam was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but your comment made him giggle. "If only ilus could be as vicious as akulas, Ao'nung's issue might have been resolved long ago."

A smile spread across your face as you raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "You'd like that, huh?"

Prior to replying, Neteyam improved his necklace and waved his tail. "Maybe."

Your tail wiggled happily as you placed your chin on his shoulder with a mischievous smile. "I'm sure you would love that, hm? You wouldn't have to worry about someone stealing me from you."

"It's not like that, Y/N. We're just friends, you and I."

"Well..." you sighed deeply, "I'm disappointed to hear that, because I really wanted something more."

You were given a serious look as he asked, "Just like with Ao'nung, huh?"

As you gasped, you smacked his back with your tail. "I tried to get your attention by making you jealous. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He grinned widely as he asked, "So you tried to make me jealous? Well, it appears you are interested in me, and I am flattered by that."

You whined, "Yes! I'm interested in you, but you're only paying attention to me in a friendly manner."

"And how do you know that, smartass?"

Blinking, you shrugged lightly. "That's how I felt."

"Then you must be blind."

You turned away and crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended. "I'm not, it's just that your signs weren't clear enough."

In this case, Neteyam rested his chin against the crook of your neck, looking at you from your profile. "How many times did I accidentally catch your hand? How many times did I say there was no one but you? How many times did I skip my duties just to spend time by your side?"

You leaned against him, "I just thought it was because I was an orphan who your mother had taken care of and you took care of me because this was what your parents expected you to do."

With you by his side, Neteyam was able to relax his nerves as he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun kissing his skin. "How wrong you were, Y/N."

"Now I know. What should we do about it?"

"Have you thought of anything in particular?"

Shrugging, you replied, "No. How about you?"

"My guess is that it's the part when you kiss her, Neteyam," tiny tone suggested. Nobody else but Tuk observed the entire situation while hiding among nearby bushes.

While eldest Sully facepalmed for not expecting his little sister to spy on him, he knew deep down she was right. In barely a second, he placed a hand on your cheek and rubbed you there with his thumb, before leaning forward to rub his nose against yours and briefly kiss your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggled quietly and kissed him back. The happiness made your tail move like crazy.

A small Omaticaya girl shook her head and kept quiet during the scene.

As your taste spilled over Neteyam's tongue, he murmured in pleasure.

With a mischievous smile, you pulled away and rubbed your noses together. "It was worth it to piss you off."

"Prove it."

"I love you, not Ao'nung," you rolled your eyes and kissed him once more.

Tuk's tone was filled with happiness as she chanted, "I feel love in the air! Y/N and Neteyam, Neteyam and Y/N! Nanana! Love is oh so in the air!"

When Neteyam returned the kiss, he felt all his angst and anger disappear quickly, having been eased by your words and feeling that they came from the depths of your heart.

After letting him kiss you for a moment, you pulled away when you needed to breathe deeply. "Is this proof enough for you, my love?"

"Yes."

"What did our little spy think of what she saw?" You asked Tuk loudly.

With a stick she found in the bushes, Tuk emerged from her hiding spot and approached the two of you. "It was pretty cute, but still eww, just like mom kissing dad. Just remember I will keep a close eye on you, Y/N, and I won't hesitate to inform Neteyam if I see you hanging out with those beefy, turquoise fellas again," she warned, getting on her brother's lap. "And now tell me: will you two eventually tie the knot?"

You rolled your eyes and ruffled her hair. "One day, maybe, when we decide we want to be together forever."

"Tuk, please," Neteyam poked Tuktirey's shoulder. "Little one, that is none of your business."

"What? I have to be ready," Tuk looked at you while shrugging her shoulders. "I believe you'd make a stunning bride! I could look after your future kids! I would play with them!"

"TUK!" Neteyam paled a little, pulling on his sister's braid. "That’s enough."

A smug smile appeared on your face. "I would like to have kids, so long as they aren't like their future aunt."

Neteyam laughed, shoving Tuk off his lap and returning to weaving. "Please, don't encourage her, Y/N."

Tuk initially nodded joyfully in response to your comments, but when she realised what you were saying, she crossed her arms over her chest, which, unfortunately, was the same moment she slipped from Neteyam's lap. She snarled at you while sitting on her butt in the sand. "I'll keep it in mind, Y/N, and I'll tell mom!"

Laughing, you took Neteyam's hand. "I guess we'll see about that. Right?"

As he stroked your palm, he smiled at you brightly. "Yes. The feelings I have for you are something I am looking forward to discovering and exploring."

556 notes · View notes

maddiem4-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Exit Music (for a Sunrise)

This is a short story I wrote because I was feeling inspired by Spooky Season and a Veritasium video. It involves unique vampire lore and self-destructively horny characters, and I'll probably eventually write an explicitly explicit sequel.

Close your eyes, smell the pine forest and chlorine, hear the hum of an ice machine faintly down the hallway, and then...

"It's the acidity, that's the stupid thing."

I glanced dozily over at the boy sitting next to me. I wasn't entirely sure if I could feel his pulse pushing back against mine. The short length of aquarium tubing between us was a much darker red than I would have imagined, and I felt just fine.

He pointed at his neck, in two places, symmetrical on either side, and continued. "Your carotid forks like a wishbone on either side. And there's a little bit in the fork, that tells you if your blood is acidic. That's what tells you when to breathe."

"Really?" I smiled warmly. "What's acidity got to do with breathing?"

He smiled too, but his eyes were on the horizon. There was a thinness in his expression, an old pain. I felt my heart leap for him in that moment. I don't know why. "Acidity's got everything to do with breathing, especially the yearning for it. You've felt the need to breathe before, haven't you? The desperation that comes from being denied air?"

I shrugged, a little put off by the question. "Yeah. Obviously. I'm alive, aren't I?"

He chuckled. "Obviously. Silly question. It's been awhile for me." I wondered what he meant by that, and waited for him to explain, but he was determined to get back to his original topic. "You can't really feel low oxygen. And you can't really feel high carbon dioxide… directly. But carbon dioxide, it makes your blood sour. Those little bits in your neck, they tell you that your blood is sour, which means you probably have high carbon dioxide, which means you probably have low oxygen too. Sour blood means you need, more than anything in the world, to breathe."

"Really?" I stared off into the orange-ripple sky, wondering if he was seeing something particular in the clouds, or the skyline. The night air was cool on my skin, but by now I'd warmed the concrete of the balcony, at least the parts I was touching. It felt a little less warm now than I vaguely remembered it feeling half an hour ago. It was beautiful out there in the expanse of the world, and complicated, and so was he. I turned to him, and pointed down at the tubes. "Am I sour?"

He turned to me, and his short sandy hair rustled in the breeze. His lips were turned up in a grin, and he held a finger up, gesturing. From inside the hotel room, Thom Yorke's voice rang in sweet, distant echos from the FM radio. Pleading, crooning:

Breathe…. keep breathin'….

The boy tapped his finger in the air to seal the moment. "No. Not sour at all."

I relaxed a little further, cozy in my spot. "Cool."

His brow furrowed then. "I'm sorry about this, by the way. Either way it goes."

The wind opened up the neck of my shirt a little further, and I didn't mind, but I wished so badly it would do the same favor for him. I laughed, I honestly laughed. "Well, what are the ways it could go? Sounds like there's just two of 'em."

He just stared at his palm, the gorgeous hand which flowed in clean lines upwards to the softly sculpted arm that had the needle stuck into it. He didn't answer my question, he just said, "You probably think I'm unfathomably selfish, don't you?"

I shook my head. "Why would I?"

He looked at me fiercely then. "Because I do." And there was a razor buried in his voice, a fresh fire in his eyes like I'd never seen. "Because I'm trying to convince myself desperately that I'm not, that I don't have choices, and really, do I? When it's like this, when the price is this high to simply be?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that. So I said nothing, and he continued, gathering terrible momentum.

"It would be easier if I could pretend what so many of us pretend. A divide between the divinely ordained race, and the livestock. There's certainly a host of fucking incentives to believe that. But it's a house of cards. It falls apart when you can talk to the cattle, and they're just like you, except.. briefer. And you were like them once - even if it feels more like a story than a memory anymore - it happened, and you can't escape knowing that."

I leaned toward him, careful of the needle in my arm. "You say a lot of words to dance around what you mean, Conrad."

His expression softened. "There are more than two options, actually."

The trees were visible several stories below us, and stretching out for acres. Just barely visible, mind you, but a texture of the world painted in moon-grey tinsel. The birds were beginning to wake now. I asked him, gently, silently. Insistently. I asked without words.

He hesitated. "I'm… deciding."

I sighed, peeved.

He looked me up and down. "You could live forever, you know. If you don't mind the dark."

I scooted closer to him, and it was harder than I expected. My muscles were heavy. I didn't care, and I kissed him. "The dark's not so bad. But your voice has a catch in it, something darker than that. I want to know what it is."

He took my hand, put it on his chest. I steadied my heart - I had to. He was looking at me earnestly, and I matched him. "Do you feel it?"

Breathe…. keep breathin'….

The rising, the falling. "Yes."

"I still do that. It'll buy me about a week. But it won't last. Blood breaks down, it gets sour, and I'll feel like I'm drowning… all the time."

I nodded. My mind was starting to feel clear, even as my body as getting heavier. "You're deciding whether to put me through the same wringer, aren't you? Forever, but with an asterisk."

He nodded back, eyes serious as Sunday service. "It's one of the options. And it's a big asterisk. But it's bad to be alone like this. You don't die, but it's hard to find fresh blood when you can't function, and you can't function without fresh blood." He cupped my face in his hand. "I've been alone for ten months, Elizabeth. A blink in my lifespan, and I can't count the times I've nearly spiraled into helplessness and suffering in that time. It's the longest blink I've ever endured. We're not meant to be alone."

I smiled at him. "I've loved other men. Gone on a NyQuil run here and there. Sounds like the same thing, just with higher stakes."

He winced theatrically, barely containing a giggle. "Oh, don't talk stakes to me!"

His hair felt so soft as I twirled it in my fingers. "You're an idiot, Conrad. But I don't mind it."

He stared into me, warm and kind. I was starting to feel a bit cold in the morning chill myself. "I really could. I really could do it." The last vestige of my glass of wine was in his voice, and it sounded like spun gold.

I kissed him again. "Call that Plan A. And the other options?"

"Cheeky!" The smile lasted for a moment, then faded, and he was looking through me. His voice resumed hollowly. "The next option is to just drain you. You know that's on the table."

"Walk the earth alone? Take your chances with that vicious cycle of yours?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "That's a remarkably selfless way to talk about the consequences of dying tonight."

"I won't." I winked at him. "You need me and we both know it."

He rolled his eyes. A little of the morning light - indirect and pale, but with the promise of a turmeric sunrise - was beginning to dance through his hair. "I told you, I lived ten months without you so far."

"Oh, I know." I poked his nose with my finger. "I heard you describe it. Good luck with month eleven, sounds like real glory days for you. Lap of luxury, through and through."

"It's not a kindness to put you through that."

"Then don't." I traced my fingers up his bare leg, towards the cuff of his long-dry swim trunks. "Take me with you. You said it yourself, we're not meant to be alone."

He stopped my fingers with his, gently. Sadly.

"There's a third option."

He stared off into the horizon, but I stared upwards at the wall of the hotel. The rising sun was already peeking over the forest-covered hillside at the cold stucco of the upper floors. The curtain of light would find its way down the wall to us in a few minutes. In these hours at the open and close of day, the sun is at such an oblique angle that, if you watch carefully, you can see the borders of shadow moving moment by moment. It still doesn't seem quick, and yet if you take your attention away for what seems like no time at all, it creeps up on you with a ferocious and unwavering pace.

That is what made me feel truly cold.

"You wouldn't," I said, with none of my previous confidence.

He stared off at the hillside, wind rustling his teal polo shirt, saying nothing.

"You wouldn't."

He opened his mouth, idly stroking one of his fangs with his finger. "Did you wonder why I didn't use these?"

I gulped. "Because it's hard to talk while drinking?"

"We don't drink it. Our fangs are… highly vascularized. What good would blood do in our stomachs? We don't drink, we drain. That doesn't make talking hard, it makes it impossible." He turned to look at me again, a weariness in his gorgeous shoulders that I could barely stand to witness. "And I sorely needed to talk with you tonight."

I felt a hot tear run down my cheek. "Before you go?"

"In case I decided to."

"It doesn't have to be like this."

"It's been a long ten months, Elizabeth."

"The next ten don't have to be. They could go by like nothing at all. You and me."

"And the trail of bodies we'd leave behind together."

"God dammit, Conrad!" I shouted, suddenly impatient and furious and terrified. "Don't do this to me. Not now."

You can laugh…

He smiled at me, transparent in a way I'd not seen him before, old inside and visible and vulnerable. He was pink and warm, and if anyone had seen us, they would have guessed wrong which of us was a vampire. Pink and warm and tired. "I asked you, when we met, what you'd do if you only had one night left on earth…"

… your spineless laugh…

I couldn't even raise my arms anymore, but my hand was clenched in a fist by my side. "You fucking bastard."

We hope your rules and wisdom…

He looked up at the sky, its stars stolen by clouds and the rising dawn. "And we did it, you know! We actually fucking did it."

… choke…

I felt lightheaded. I looked up again, and the light was beginning to glare off the frame of our room's sliding glass door, the top edge.

… you….

What they don't tell you about exsanguination is that it feels a lot like not being able to breathe.

He held my hand, and stared into my fading vision. "I'm so grateful to you, Elizabeth Maroney. And you've helped me decide, at the eleventh hour. Down to the fucking wire."

… Now, we are one…

He unstuck the needle from his arm, and started for the sliding glass door, which was still open. "I'll never forget you, Lizzy. Sorry it wasn't Plan A."

And then he fell like a mailbox making the unfortunate acquaintance of a vehicle-speed baseball bat.

… In everlasting peace…

My hand was clamped down hard on the tubing. I don't think I could have let go anymore if I wanted to. "Fuck you, Conrad."

He stared down at the noose of deep-red tubing around his ankle, yanked into an impenetrable knot by his resistance against it. I guess he never felt me wrap it around him when I was teasing his leg.

… We hope…

He stared at me, dumbfounded. "Lizzy, what did you do?"

… that you choke….

"Insurance."

… that you choke.

The blaze of the sun was upon us, and I realized one last time that I finally felt warm again. I was distantly aware that he was struggling with the tube around his ankle, and then with my hand, beating me, screaming in panic.

We hope… that you choke…

The sun was so warm.

… that you choke.

Let there be no mystery about how I died. February 4th, 1996, exsanguinated next to a severely burnt corpse. His name was Conrad. And my name, the last goddamn word he screamed out of that pretty little throat, was Elizabeth.

#maddiem4 #writing #short story #one off #vampire

6 notes · View notes

brittlebonesguy · 5 months ago

Text

alright time for season 9

oh boy another men v women season. the sexism isnt as upfront immediately like it was last time so thats nice. and that one guy who was like "thank god. its so much easier to trick men im so happy". and then going off about how men are evil and manipulative. damn who hurt you? rory's "walking like a bunch of ladies" i have my eye on you sir. taken reasonable breaks eliza? i have not even seen you near the shelter once. chris is such a man hater lol. i hope he keeps this up. actually if chad were to win its because it's not an idiot and not because of his prosthetic. first immunity challenge and once again these men just can't get through the balance beam. i dislike brady already. im sorry you guy's didn't appreciate chris's balance joke. cool now we're whipping out the "females" shit. why does jeff always do this? can we not talk about the women like they are a commodity? thank you for the bare minimum bubba, i appreciate it. thank god chris didn't go, i need some sort of lifeline.

i hate the intensity in JP's eyes. piercing into me, i fear they will haunt my sleep. and the way he talks? serial killer. and that guy was lying to JP about his....."good looks". sarge defending the ladies with their wni against rory, thank you sir. it's always an age divide, every season. the men did so much better this season than the last one. they only lost 2 challenges instead of 7 consecutive.

twyla is....a lot. "barbie's gone" i'll rip your face off, once i remember your name (is it sarge?). i have confirmed it is sarge and i rescind my earlier thank you. eliza....eliza please he said he had all the info he needed to know please stop talking. the way jp spelled rory.....oh no hes so stupid. (royry). thank god JP got voted off i wouldn't be able to stand him for too much longer. oh here we go with the "i just never got along with women" bullshit from twila. and her pushing back on very reasonable statements. really want her to go honestly. judging women for being "feminine" is just so low. yeah yeah we get it you're a tomboy *eye roll*. scout's on my shit list as well now with that "good luck with finding a husband who will put up with you" comment at mia. and now she's leaving? BOOOOOOO

it's about time the fatphobia came out john i was waiting for your shitty side to show. idk why the men always fall apart during puzzles. it's not that serious guys. now the real question men, could rory not figuring out the puzzle or did you guys not even let him try? now i don't like rory or brody (if that's his name)(edit: it wasn't it was brady) but i would love it if sarge left. i'm glad brady left though because i kept confusing him with that john guy. oh they ditched the men vs women pretty quick. idk it feels like a favoring for the guys by dropping it considering jeff was concerned that they were all playing an individual game so early on (as he said during tribal). just thinking....

twila is so irritating. not sure why ami thinks annoying the four women on her tribe will encourage them to continue with their 5 alliance. its just a coconut, i promise. oh bubba was stupid with that "chris think about the merge", hes for sure going home next. and him having to play the macho man and carrying the entire gate by him self. so far i'm really hating bubba, eliza, and twilia the most. and sarge when I can remember him. and bubba lying through his teeth about his "mouthing and hand signaling" like dude we all heard you said "chris think about the merge" out loud in front of everybody. yeah i also almost drowned as a kid bubba, i don't give a shit about the sob story and i swear if it works.... bye bubba i won't miss you!

sarge tripping over himself to assure us that he's better than women and he doesn't NEED them around camp he just LIKES them around camp....shut up. eliza is so useless its crazy. i hate twila's "those prisy girls didn't want to get their fingernails dirty" like fuck off, also the only one who didn't try was eliza. sarge what the hell is going on? i can't figure out his feelings towards twila but please keep them to yourself. honestly i'm glad lisa went. I'm so glad scouts gay! makes me like her more.

"I've been a threat since day 1" john they hate you what are you talking about? so happy yasur won immunity because I like this tribe right now. jokes on me I no longer like them. and I'm back at hating rory 🥰. I know if I went on survivor I too would have a temper but it really isn't fun to watch with him. unlike sandra <3. this might come back to bite me almost immediately but I'm liking twila more now. rory is officially annoying again and I hate his guts. and now ami is getting targeted because she wants the woman to stay together. 🙄 hope she wins! the men can all honestly fuck off. also is this the season of gaslighting or something? because why are we acting like Bubba didn't say all that merge shit at full volume? see I know ami is gonna go because she wants a woman's alliance too much and apparently people canr handle that. so sarge is allowed to rule over the men ans that's fine, we're allowed to pick off the women one by one and that's fine, but the moment it's reversed?

these men are so dramatic 🙄. rory with his "no one has endured more than me on this island" and "im the victim of a gender war right now" be fucking serious!!!!! and then chad and chris talking shit at the camp like twila and julie don't know they are at the end of the pecking order with both groups? they have a better shot eith the women than the men because NONE of the remaining 3 men are bringing a woman into final 2 obviously. they're such fucking children and I hope they all burn 🫶🏻 "it must be a woman thing" 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄hate you Chris and sarge! the men are so stupid. the woman are already considering sending eliza home but they're sitting here like "WE'VE got to convince them" why the FUCK is twila so content to be in 4thnplace amongst the men. THAT MEANS YOULL LOSE TWILA! like a number 4 spot isn't good why are we acting like it is??? you want 1st or 2nd in this game. okay sorry I jumped the gun on that, she did not in fact do that. oddly enough I actually do like twila and eliza and that's really it for this season. fuck off sarge! won't miss you.

love that chris is just jumping right into stirring the pot now that he's the only man left. TWO LESBIANS IN ONE SEASON?? this is such a win, love you scout and ami <3. I knew I liked ami outside of the game for a reason. so annoying that chris is acting like the wishy washy shit at the end of the game is a woman thing as if plans dont change all the time with EVERYONE in survivor. really happy eliza jumped ship because it's not fair that they kept trying to vite her out. eliza won the car....now she's completely lost her chance to win this game smh. but ami is still in the running! nvm :( she got voted off.

I'm getting real nervous that chris is gonna win this season. fuck OFF I really hate that chris voted off julie, I do. stupid move that somehow is still gonna work out for him. BOOO 🍅🍅 not loving this final three...... eliza please live through this tribal, you're my only hope. I'm swung back to twila is okay I guess? chris is burning so many bridges by voted out every woman who thought they had an alliance, dumb moves honestly. I just dont want chris go win because that man is so annoying. praying for your win twila! love how if the woman vote for twila it would be "out of spite", fuck off tool bag! and yeah the woman's alliance did in fact work asshole, do you see how many woman are in the jury? I can't stand this fucking guy. he talks like a politician 🙄🙄🙄 I just respect twila so much more honestly. sarge just.lying that he was gonna vote for twila? eliza.....why?

oh how I've missed this long winded unnecessary jeff getting back to America sequences bsjabaka. I hate that chris wins, I really really do fuck that guy.

5.9/10 season

#survivor #survivor9

0 notes

the-single-element · 5 months ago

Text

Good morning.

We've been hearing, the last couple weeks, about the practical barriers Jesus faced when trying to share the nature of the Kingdom of God with those around him.

That theme continues today, when Jesus sends the Apostles – the twelve members of his inner circle, who've had the most direct tutoring on the matter – out to spread his message too, so that people will still be able to hear it in towns that Jesus will never have time to visit in person.

Because the Apostles will have to face another barrier, above and beyond the ones Jesus has been contending with: the inherent difficulty of delivering a challenging message to a stranger.

It's one thing to deal with the stubborn, immovable views of your old acquaintances, where the concrete dried on their opinion of who you are decades ago, and that opinion colors anything you try to say to them.

It's entirely another thing to walk up to someone who's never met you before and get a knee-jerk reaction along the lines of "and who the f**k are you? How is this any of your business?" For 21st century people like us, connected in ways previous generations never were, this has become common sense; the "Twitter reply guy" is going to get a thorny welcome whether or not what he's saying is true.

Amos got just such a welcome when he went north from Judah to preach in Israel; regrettably, his message got very little traction, and no shortage of mockery. Jesus, too, anticipated that there would be people unfriendly to his apostles, as they travelled around the area in pairs to spread the good news.

Paul might wax poetic about that good news as being a great uniter – something that will resonate both in the hearts of both those who grew up familiar with the God of Abraham, and those who saw him as a foreign god worshipped by foreigners – but let's not mince words: before they "unite", they'll produce so much controversy that they'll divide families, as they already did in Jesus's case.

So what's to be done? How can we answer the skepticism that rightfully arises when a rando like Amos shows up and starts pontificating on a topic no-one asked them about?

…well, Amos didn't just preach against idolatry. He also preached against usury, unjust rents and taxes, and dishonest trade. These were the greater part of his message – the part he considered more important than 'empty' sacrifices.

And that's our clue. If we need a sort of testimony that works just as well from the perspective of a stranger as that of a friend, then our behavior – the external evidence of what it looks like to living according to the Kingdom's logic – is maybe the loudest voice we have. Let's go further: it might even be more effective from a stranger than from a friend. Isn't it easier, after all, to become curious about someone's way of life – and even to come to admire it – when you already know they're from a different culture than your own? This was, after all, Jesus's strategy, and he deputized his apostles to follow the same playbook, curing the sick and driving out unclean spirits as they went… because, as we've discussed before, you can't really separate the ministry from the message.

And it is in seeing the whole picture at once – the work, and the otherworldly-yet-familiar logic behind it – that we can get past that initial distrust of the stranger, and instead remind the world of the way it once might have been, and can become again.

0 notes

mantacid · 1 year ago

Note

Seeing this all over my dashboard, I’ve had plenty of time to think about this debate, and realized that most people’s misunderstanding of OP’s arguments come from their unfamiliarity with the ideological framework with which OP draws their conclusions. @txttletale , if I misinterpret your point in this post, feel free to correct me.

1. OP doesn’t like copyright.

Firstly, a part of OP’s reasoning comes from an anti-copyright stance. They don’t believe in the efficacy of intellectual property laws at protecting individuals, seeing it instead as something that solely protects the owning class, and thus should be abolished.

OP’s point here is as follows: to back up your argument that AI screws over artists by operating within the framework of copyright law that ALSO SCREWS OVER ARTISTS is fucking ridiculous. That’s like arguing that billionaires should be taxed more because of the “everyone is required to pay for the drone strikes in third-world countries” law. You’re arguing a point that has validity within a framework that doesn’t.

TL;DR: You can’t make a good informed point using a bad ideological framework.

2. OP has more pressing concerns.

OP’s political background also informs their priorities; the debate over whether AI-generated imagery is art or not is to them a useless question, as part of their system of political beliefs is that there is no such thing as unskilled labor. This idea further contextualizes OP’s position, which is that both prompters and trained artists are going to be harmed by this technology, so why make the distinction between them?

Recently, I ran into an old mentor who worked in the animation industry. When the subject came to the rapid development of AI, he told me that his main concern wasn’t that people would be paid less for their work, but that studios would hire less people, a consequence that affects both prompters and traditional artists. And even those that do get hired will still be getting paid less to refine the output of a generative neural network, regardless of whether or not they’re a “real” artist.

In fact the category of a “real artist” only serves to justify the exploitation of anyone who falls outside of the group, which given the hard-to-pin-down nature of art can (and probably will) be construed to be “anyone and everyone the studios don’t want to pay.”

That’s a key distinction to make: AI doesn’t steal jobs, bosses get rid of jobs to cut costs, much like how migrant workers don’t steal jobs, employers will try to save money by hiring people who are easier to exploit.

Which brings me to the point that I think OP is trying to make: that debating over whether AI-art is art or whether prompters can be considered artists SHOULD NOT BE OUR HIGHEST PRIORITY.

It doesn’t matter if or in what way everyone agreed on whether prompters were real artists. No matter which stance anyone takes someone’s getting fucked over. That line of thinking isn’t just useless, it’s harmful, since the very validation of that discourse through engagement serves to justify the exploitation of the working class REGARDLESS of what stance is taken!

In other words, the debate of whether AI art is real art only serves to divide the working class against each other, while the owning class continues to use these and other tools to screw both artists and prompters over.

TL;DR: Giving validity to a distinction between “real artists” and “not real artists” allows that distinction to be used to justify the exploitation of anyone, so the very argument regarding the validity of AI art is in itself counterproductive to the protection of workers rights.

- - -

This isn’t me being pro-AI, it’s me being against exploitation. The entire reason I didn’t go into the animation industry was because I saw how much exploitation artists faced even before AI. At the time I made the decision, I didn’t see how much the exploitation was entangled with the social, political, and economic systems in place.

Just as immigrants aren’t the cause of unemployment, AI isn’t the cause of exploitation. Employers are.

hey uh ai art isn't art because art is made with intention by humans to express and evoke emotions

#ai art #art #philosophy #political philosophy #sorry for the rant #but again we are on the piss-poor reading comprehension site

526 notes · View notes

theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

Note

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist.

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib).

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that).

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism?

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent.

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #anon

813 notes · View notes

dorimena · 4 years ago

Text

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over.

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that.

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal.

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday.

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break.

But he’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants.

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him.

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!”

“Don’t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy.

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift.

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding.

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit.

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt?

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning.

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you.

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips.

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow.

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there.

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?”

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry.

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms. Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!”

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should’ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears.

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him.

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does.

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.”

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”.

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?”

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob.

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts.

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding.

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head.

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate.

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose.

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely.

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him.

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!” Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind.

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop?

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!”

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice.

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.”

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?”

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at.

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new.

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick.

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit.

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!”

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it.

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise.

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now.

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow.

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

#bnha smut #mha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub bnha #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

957 notes · View notes

beccascribbles · 4 years ago

Text

seijoh and their love language

physical touch

“tooru,” you gasped, feeling warm arms wrap around your bare skin and a mouth press a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. the water rolled off your body in droplets, and, as you turned to face him, he slipped slightly on the wet floor, catching himself against the wall. this had the added effect of trapping you in front of him. he leant forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“hey,” he greeted, mouth splitting open in that grin you loved so much. it was open, honest, one of the truest smiles he had, and reserved for those he was utterly in love with. you were certain you were one of the only people in the world to be on the receiving end of this smile.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, reaching up a hand to brush his hair from his forehead. the water from the shower head had flattened it, plastering the strands to the smooth surface.

“showering with you,” he shrugged, like it was an everyday occurrence, like he hadn’t just snuck in because he missed your touch so much. he reached over to grab the shampoo from the rack, opening the bottle and squeezing out some of it into the palm of his hand. “turn around.”

you turned, and oikawa’s fingers tangled in your hair, massaging the scalp until the shampoo was lathered. he removed the shower from its’ hook, gently guiding your head back to avoid any shampoo going in your eyes as he washed it from your hair. next, he grabbed the conditioner, repeating the process. you smiled at him, hand reaching out to remove his shampoo from the rack.

“your turn,” you declared, squeezing a small amount into your palm. you rose up on your tiptoes slightly, wobbling as you attempted to wash his hair while also balancing. with a soft chuckle, he bent his knees slightly, surprising you at the sudden change in height.

“sorry,” he laughed softly, placing a kiss to your collarbone. “but it’s easier now, right?”

acts of service

iwaizumi can’t help it. his eyes fall on your sleeping form, a soft smile taking over his features as he brushes a finger along your cheek. you stir slightly in your sleep, and he freezes, hand stopping its slow movement away from you. when he is certain you are still sleeping peacefully, he finally moves, slipping from the bedroom and shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

he knows you’ve had a busy week, working late into the night, and also finding the time to cook dinner most days that week. iwaizumi knows you don’t mind cooking; it’s one of the things you like to do, preparing a meal the two of you can eat together, dinner being the one time in the week where you can really sit down and chat, no distractions.

he grabs the dirty laundry from the basket beside the bathroom, carrying it downstairs where he can start the process of dividing the lights and darks. if you came down to find the white clothes the both of you wore were now a different colour, you would not be happy. his eyebrows furrowed as he held an item of clothing in front of him. it was an odd colour, one that could be considered a mixture of light and dark. taking a chance, he threw it in the dark pile, praying to whoever was listening that his assumption was correct.

switching on the machine went smoothly. iwaizumi wasn’t completely incapable - he had done his own laundry while in america, it was just the added pressure of messing up that made him slightly uncertain. the sound of china rattling and the kettle being switched on alerted him to your presence in the kitchen.

he hovered in the doorway for a moment, watching you as you shuffled around, your hood pulled up over your head. you moved in a daze, reaching up to grab the tea bags and letting out a loud yawn. he stepped forward then, entering the kitchen and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. he let his head rest against yours for a moment before pulling away.

“morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, reaching up to grab his own mug and placing it down beside yours. “have a nice lie in?”

gifts

another holiday, another gift shop.

matsukawa stepped into a gift shop somewhere in paris already knowing what he wanted to buy, what he had brought for you to commemorate every trip you'd been on together. he flicked through the various keyrings, discarding them with ease.

too tacky. too loud. too large.

he finally settled on a delicate, ornate keyring in the shape of the eiffel tower. it may be basic but it recalled fond memories of the trip. you had eaten lunch in the tower's shadow, had seen it rising above the buildings as you walked down the street. it was the view from your hotel window. therefore, it was perfect.

he paid for it with his limited french, stumbling through phrases, certain he'd messed up the pronunciation when the shop assistant snickered. still, he left the shop with it gift-wrapped and his wallet four euros lighter.

matsukawa presented it to you during your last meal in paris, handing it to you across the table with a grin. at least that had solved the mystery of why he had woken up so early, never one to be out of bed before ten if he didn't have to work.

you handled it with care, twisting it at different angles, the candle light catching it and flickering. a small grin tugged at the corners of your lips and you leaned across the table to press them against his. his hand came up to cup your face, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. a stern cough caused you to push away, flustered as you peered around the restaurant. laughing, matsukawa laced his fingers with yours.

"so, do you like it?"

"i love it," you replied, leaning forward once again, this time only letting your lips brush against his jaw.

quality time

you could hardly move, squished into the smallest space you could find as you held your breath. the slightest release of air would alert him to your presence in the room, and you wanted to win. if only you could see the timer... you just needed to remain hidden for five minutes, just five, and hanamaki would turn over his tv privileges to you.

the door to the room you were hidden in creaked open, and heard him step into the room. cupboards were opened as hanamaki moved closer to your hiding place. you tried to make yourself smaller, shuffling backwards. your head hit the wood with a sharp crack and you let out a wince.

"y/n?"

his voice was close now, just outside where you were hidden. he opened the door, peering in. for a moment, he didn't see you. you were huddled right against the side, curled up into a ball. then, his head turned to the side. he declared, "found you!"

"does this mean i have to sit and watch your shit?" you grumbled, crawling out and rubbing the rapidly growing bruise on the back of your head.

"well, it certainly doesn't mean i have to sit and watch yours," he beamed, reaching forward and giving your side a poke.

"don't you have jobs to apply for and interviews to attend?" you quipped, flinching slightly when his fingers dug into your side. a gasping laugh escaped your lips as he began to tickle you.

"and don't you have an actual job to do?" he teased, grinning widening at the way you squirmed in his grasp, trying desperately to tickle him back.

physical touch

kyoutani glared at the people around you, reaching out to grab you and tug you back into his chest. his hand found a home on your waist, fingers sliding beneath the material of your top and resting against your warm skin. you looked up at him, eyebrows raised as you waited for an explanation. his other hand reached up to hold your face, thumb and forefinger gripping your chin as he pulled your face towards him. the kiss was short and fierce, a reminder to all those around you that you were his.

"taro, i need to go," you sighed, reaching up to rest a hand against his cheek. he grumbled in response, and you couldn't help the way your eyes rolled ever so slightly. "you know i've got class soon."

"i know," he said, fingers tightening on your waist. your body was warm against his, a welcome distraction and one that he craved. "one more kiss?"

your hand slipped around the back of his head as you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. kyoutani wasn't satisfied with that, using his hand on your waist to hold you in place and the hand on your face to pull you back in. you surrender to his touch just like you usually did, returning the kiss and pulling away breathless.

"i really need to go," you said, though you were becoming increasingly reluctant to leave. he nodded in response.

"message me when you're done?" he requested, loosening his hold and letting you slip away.

you reached out to give his hand one last squeeze before turning away and throwing over your shoulder, "obviously."

words of affirmation

"i love you," he murmured in the dark, turning to face your sleeping form beside him. your breathing was steady, and he reached out to touch you gently, tracing the lines of your face. he stared down at you in awe, wondering how he could have got so lucky. he let out a deep sigh. "you're so perfect. everything about you. i love it all."

you stirred in your sleep then, moving closer to him and pressing your face against his side. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as your eyes cracked open and you peered up at him.

"did you say something, yutaro?" you mumbled, voice raspy from sleep. he blushed then, face feeling hot as he repeated what he had admitted earlier.

"i love you."

"love you too," you murmured sleepily, snuggling further into his warmth. already, your eyes were beginning to close again, sleep pulling you back in.

"i love you so much," he continued, his voice lulling you back to sleep. "i love everything about you, every little thing you do. you're perfect for me in every way. i couldn't ask for a better partner."

a soft snore filled the silence of the room, and he lay back down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. a chaste kiss was placed to the nape of your neck before sleep also claimed kindaichi.

quality time

kunimi stifled a yawn, stretching out on the sofa as he listened to you chat. it was around 1am now, a time when he would usually be asleep. however, your conversation was engaging and he felt like he hadn't been able to just spend time with you.

you were always doing something together, going somewhere, but you were never just alone together, no phones, no tv, just each other. kunimi smiled over at you, reaching forward to rest his hand atop yours. you took it, never breaking your flow of conversation.

“kunimi?”

“hmm?” he questioned, blinking over at you. his movements were slow and it was clear he was tired.

“do you want to go to sleep?” you asked, lifting the hand you were holding with your own and pressing a gentle kiss to the surface, letting it fall back into your lap.

he shook his head, smiling blearily at you. “i like listening to you. we haven’t been like this in a while.”

“i guess we have been busy,” you reasoned, letting your head rest against the back of the sofa. “i missed talking to you, akira.”

he nodded his head, moving closer to you and dropping his head on your shoulder. your free hand brushed through his hair, the movement slow and soothing. kunimi urged, “keep talking.”

that was all the prompting you needed to launch into another story from your day, kunimi’s eyes slowly shutting as your voice eased him to sleep.

1K notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Text

The Quiet Room

- Chapter 6 - ao3 - (previous tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

The Lan sect’s rules said Learning comes first, and that was because learning was the root of all things.

Humans were changeable and ever-changing, molded by their heritage and their environment; it was through careful education that they learned to comprehend goodness – it was only through constant learning that they could keep themselves walking on the path of righteousness.

Learning from books, learning from others, learning from one’s own mistakes; it didn’t matter.

What was important was that you couldn’t stop learning.

You had to keep moving forward.

Lan Wangji had for some time entertained the thought that his life had stopped when Wei Wuxian’s had. It had felt as though it had: it felt as if his heart had been irrevocably shattered, like a priceless vase that had once contained all his tender feelings – all those feelings that, lacking their container, would now slip through his fingers forever, leaving him as empty as a soulless puppet. He’d thought he was doomed never to love again, never to learn again, all his mind consumed with nothing by memories.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Even with Wei Wuxian gone, he was still learning.

There were his recent meditations on the subject of silence and noise, for one.

There were his wards, for another.

Lan Sizhui was a polite and thoughtful child, inquisitive but a little shy and hesitant, a little fearful to assert himself – a little too quiet, in a way that Lan Wangji was starting to be able to recognize as being not good, a silence and reticence born of concern and anxiety rather than genuine introversion. Luckily, there was also Lan Jingyi, who was and had always been the liveliest and most spirited of children, and yet he, too, was just a little bit too loud in a way that reflected his own method of displaying anxiety, another startling realization that was brand new.

Lan Wangji had always associated quiet with reserve and self-control, noise with carelessness and recklessness, but being in the controlled chaos of Qinghe and really sincerely listening to it, accepting it, came with its own set of revelations. He found that there were people who were naturally loud and those that made themselves be loud, just as there were those who were quiet and those who were forced into quietude. Lan Jingyi worried just as much as the next person, but he displaced those feelings through distraction rather than through the force of his willpower, taking on the role of clown or hero as suited each moment, unafraid to cast himself in the role of aggressor if it would allow Lan Sizhui the chance to play the mediator. The subconscious division of roles allowed Lan Sizhui to feel useful and in control, reducing his anxiety, while Lan Jingyi got to feel taken care of, which reduced his own – it was good, in a way, but after some consideration Lan Wangji carefully took them both in hand and told them that they would need to be more thoughtful about it.

Lan Sizhui could not, should not, always have to be the peacemaker, always yielding and kind and gentle and quiet: he deserved to be loud, too. He deserved to be assertive, to be heard, to feel entitled to take up space regardless of his utility to those around him. He should never feel like he had to pay in service for the right to exist.

And by the same token, Lan Jingyi shouldn’t feel burdened to always have to be the one to take the first step, always acting as the driving force, the loud and opinionated one. He should have the opportunity, and the obligation, to think through what he was doing or saying, to be thoughtful and careful, to sometimes yield if he wished; he should be granted space of his own to make sure that his actions were what he wished them to be rather than some impulse.

Lan Wangji only wished he’d had the wisdom to tell Wei Wuxian the same thing while he’d been alive.

He’d been so short-sighted when he was younger, at first unable to recognize how he felt about the man and then unable to figure out how to speak with him – he’d been unable to break his own habitual silence, and equally unable to see the depths concealed in Wei Wuxian’s brash arrogance, especially towards the end. Like Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian’s reckless courage was genuine, especially in the happy days of their youth; like Lan Jingyi, when things got bad, Wei Wuxian had taken refuge in more of the same, building himself walls made of noise that were designed to keep everyone out.

Wei Wuxian might have been noisy and loud, right to the very end, but in his own way he’d been just as alone as Lan Wangji in his excess of quiet.

The next generation, Lan Wangji thought fiercely, would do better.

He felt comforted by that thought.

The children were chewing over Lan Wangji’s words as they walked along the outmost ramparts of the Unclean Realm, already inured to the glittering barrier that hung in their sky, full of arrays and inscriptions – they were accompanying Lan Wangji on his daily walk.

The Nie sect’s doctors had a very different regimen for curing illnesses than the Lan sect’s, he’d found. Thirty-three strikes of the discipline whip: in both places he’d gotten stitched back up, but while the Lan sect doctors had allowed him to retreat into seclusion, prescribing medicine and rest and self-reflection, the Nie sect doctors insisted on coupling medicine and meditation with exercise. Intermittent and gradual exercise, meant to increase flexibility and reduce muscle atrophy – it wasn’t really that different from what Lan Wangji had been left to do on his own back at home, but he found that it was easier to struggle against his stubborn body when he had company to encourage him to take that extra step beyond his limits, their voices pushing him when his own willpower was insufficient. Even the silent presence of the two children, walking beside him, helped him find the reason to keep going.

Truly, there was much to consider on the subject of quiet and noise, of loud and soft, of loneliness and isolation and how no amount of either introversion nor extroversion could alone save you from them.

Lan Wangji was still thinking it over when he heard a new noise.

It was also an old noise, painfully familiar from all those days of war – before he even consciously identified what the sound was, his back had straightened, his legs sinking into a prepared pose, his mind already summoning his spiritual energy to the forefront in case he needed to defend himself.

Cultivators, flying on swords at speed.

Lan Wangji looked up and saw them: men and women both, a small group – a forward scouting troop, small enough to be subtle and sneak ahead to see what was happening but large enough to ensure someone would be able to return to the main force and warn them if they did find something.

They were dressed in the colors of Yunmeng Jiang, and it was Jiang Cheng leading them.

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

He had not seen Jiang Cheng since the massacre at the Nightless City, although he’d heard the stories of how he had turned against his own shixiong and led the greatest of the forces that besieged the Burial Mounds. He’d decided then that he’d never wanted to see Jiang Cheng ever again – he hadn’t been able to comprehend how Jiang Cheng could do a thing like that to Wei Wuxian, who he’d loved.

He still didn’t understand, but he thought, perhaps, that he ought to be a little less hasty in judging others by his own standards.

He’d done enough of that.

“Hanguang-jun!” Jiang Cheng called, seeing him, and pulled ahead of all the other Jiang sect cultivators, leaving them hanging back warily. Lan Wangji turned to face him, conscious of the two young children still clinging to his hands and now half-hiding behind his robes – conscious, too, of the shimmering but translucent barrier that divided them from Jiang Cheng, the barrier that had been raised to protect the Unclean Realm from Lan Wangji’s own brother and all the mistakes he had made, well-meaning as they were. “Hanguang-jun, good, you can tell me, what is the meaning of…”

Jiang Cheng trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide and almost bulging from the force of how hard he was staring at Lan Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said politely in greeting – or, well, politely enough.

“Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said in return, his voice sounding strangled. “What…happened?”

Far too much to explain, so Lan Wangji didn’t, just waited for Jiang Cheng to continue with a more specific question.

“I mean, uh. The beacon went off,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still gawking, looking as though he were about to fall off his sword any second. “The – you know the one, the one that shows when a sect’s barrier defenses have been activated. I thought...”

He’d assumed there was an invasion, Lan Wangji realized, and had rushed over at once to try to help forestall it. It was a reasonable assumption, and a noble response: having once lost everything without being able to rely on the help of others, Jiang Cheng now sought to be the help that he had not had.

It was the sort of thing a righteous person would do, and in line with what Lan Wangji thought he’d known of Jiang Cheng’s character.

And yet…Jiang Cheng had still turned his back on Wei Wuxian.

Time and time again, he’d turned away fro him.

“I came to find out what happened, why they put up the shield,” Jiang Cheng continued. “I brought people with me to help, though I left them back a ways so it wouldn’t be an insult. And now I’m here and – and you’re here – and you’re…just…it’s…Lan Wangji, what happened to your forehead ribbon?”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “Is that your primary concern?”

Jiang Cheng waved his hands around, almost flailing, and Lan Wangji couldn’t quite help but feel a sudden stab of amusement – and then of sorrow, because the flailing was almost painfully familiar. He had seen Wei Wuxian do much the same when he encountered something unexpected, whether some threat or some new maneuver by the Wen sect or, in one notable instance, the unanticipated appearance of a fish in a place where one would not normally expect fish to be.

“I have taken a leave of absence from the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji finally explained, deciding to be magnanimous and take pity on his former comrade in arms. “The Nie sect has permitted me to remain with them while I determine my next course of action. As for the shield, there is no imminent invasion. The situation is – complicated.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You don’t say!”

Still, the explanation seemed to help steady him, somewhat, and Lan Wangji observed that Jiang Cheng did not look his best: tired, with circles under his eyes and an unhealthy skin tone. Too much work, too little rest, and probably nightmares…because of what had happened to Wei Wuxian, perhaps? But if so, why had he done it in the first place?

“I cannot let you in,” Lan Wangji added, even though technically he had one of the only remaining guest tokens that still functioned. Jiang Cheng nodded, seemingly having expected that. “I can escort you to the sect leader’s quarters to have your request for admission approved.”

That the person approving the request would probably be Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji did not say – not so much out of caution, which would probably be justified, but rather out of a completely inexplicable urge to see Jiang Cheng start flailing once again upon finding out.

Was this how Wei Wuxian felt all the time?

Interesting.

He began to walk again, the children at his sides slowly coming out, and Jiang Cheng did him the courtesy of not mentioning how slow and stiff he was, although Lan Wangji thought he remembered enough of Jiang Cheng’s mannerisms to interpret the twisted grimace on his face as he glanced over time and time again as a look of concern.

After a little while in which Lan Wangji walked and Jiang Cheng floated alongside him on his sword, the Jiang sect cultivators lagging behind by a respectable distance, the children getting over their fear to start looking around again, Jiang Cheng finally cleared his throat.

“There’s a medicinal blend of herbs that can counteract the anti-clotting effects of the discipline whip,” he said. Lan Wangji glanced at him: Jiang Cheng was staring forward, not looking at him at all any more. “It makes it heal faster. I can pass the prescription along to the Nie sect’s pharmacists, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng had also been struck by the discipline whip, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered. It had been a matter of deep embarrassment for him during the war, making him reluctant to remove clothing even when they were rancid with blood and poisonous fumes.

“Thank you,” he said, and for some reason the children took that as their cue that Jiang Cheng was actually all right and burst out in a flood of questions.

Lan Jingyi wanted to know how Jiang Cheng’s clothing had gotten to be such a vivid shade of purple, while Lan Sizhui was more curious about his sword and how shiny it was – the concerns of children, unburdened by the memories or concerns of adults. Their questions made Jiang Cheng smile, and Lan Wangji thought briefly of the orphaned Jin Ling, who had been temporarily given to Jiang Cheng’s custody to pick up some of the traditions of his maternal sect. A fancy way of saying that the Jin sect wanted him out of the way for a few years until he was worth teaching their own ways to, but Lan Wangji suspected Jiang Cheng would have taken any excuse at all to remain close to his kin.

“What, now children aren’t too noisy for you?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Wangji, and for the first time it occurred to Lan Wangji that the tossed out words, broken off and abrupt, might be meant as a friendly tease.

“I am reevaluating my relationship with silence,” he said, and Jiang Cheng smirked, amused.

“I bet you are,” he said. “Nie Huaisang alone would drive a man to distraction…”

Lan Jingyi laughed and clapped and that, and, inspired, Lan Sizhui followed suit.

And then, suddenly, Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A-Yuan,” he said, and Lan Wangji was suddenly cold from head to toe, the chattering of the children suddenly too loud in his ears: he had forgotten that Jiang Cheng had also visited the Burial Mounds. “That’s – that’s A-Yuan, isn’t it?”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji started, his voice sticking in his throat, then trailed off. He did not know what he could say that would work to convince Jiang Cheng that he was wrong when he was right, but neither could he admit to the truth. Even if Nie Mingjue had been kind enough to allow Lan Wangji to come to the Nie sect to stay, and to bring the two children with him, that had been under the premise that they were Lan sect children. If he ever found out that Lan Sizhui had been born surnamed Wen…

Nie Mingjue would not hurt a child, he was too righteous for that. But he might not be inclined to let that child grow up in his sect, either.

Jiang Cheng’s face was twisted in a strange sort of way, as if he couldn’t decide to be angry or relieved. “I thought he’d died,” he murmured, more to himself. “I thought…what is that?”

Lan Wangji was momentarily confused by the question, focused as he was by the terrifying implications of Jiang Cheng’s discovery, but then he saw that Jiang Cheng’s gaze went further into the distance.

He turned to look, then felt twist of unpleasantness deep in his belly: there was his brother in the sky, flying to the main gate on Shuoyue, and beside him was Jin Guangyao.

Why did you have to bring him? Lan Wangji thought, unhappy, but he already knew the answer to that. His brother trusted Jin Guangyao. Why wouldn’t he bring him?

If only he would trust the rest of them as much as he trusted that liar.

“We can discuss Lan Sizhui later,” Lan Wangji said, careful to emphasize both the surname and the courtesy name he’d given him – painfully obvious now that he thought about it, though at the time it had seemed only appropriate, the only name he could bestow that fit – and quickened his steps. “Now that my brother has arrived, things will become difficult.”

He wondered, a little bitterly, if his brother had even noticed that he was gone, or if he had been so thoroughly forgotten in his enforced ‘seclusion’ that it hadn’t even been thought of as a possibility.

“Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji came to a stop at Jiang Cheng’s shout. Suddenly full of anger, he turned his head back – surely Jiang Cheng didn’t hate Wei Wuxian so much that he wouldn’t let the matter of a small child go, even in the midst of a crisis?

Jiang Cheng was pointing into the distance. Strangely enough, it was not in the direction of the main gate, where Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were even now landing, but somewhere even further beyond.

“Do you see it?” Jiang Cheng demanded, and his eyes were suddenly wild, his breathing disordered; he seemed far more disturbed than he had when he’d recognized A-Yuan. “Lan Wangji, tell me that you see it!”

Utterly lost, Lan Wangji focused his gaze on the far horizon. It was the same scenery as he’d seen there the past few days, the interspersed richness of the low valleys that quickly arced up into the mountains that surrounded the Unclean Realm. There was nothing there that was unusual…

Lan Wangji spotted a very faint glimmer.

Sun, he thought, the reflection of sun – sun off steel.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t on the ramparts of the Unclean Realm but standing beside Jiang Cheng on a rough-hewn fortress barely worthy of the name, watching the horizon grimly as the damned Wen scout’s flare did its work and the amassed forces of Wen Chao’s troops began to move inexorably in their direction. They would come, he had known, and they would kill them all if they could; it would take everything they had to stop them, and to survive long enough just to retreat once again.

For some of them to survive.

“Invasion,” he heard someone say, their voice hoarse, and only a moment later realized it was himself who had spoken. “Invasion…it’s an army!”

“It’s the Jin sect,” Jiang Cheng said, staring blankly as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. For once, Lan Wangji understood him completely; he was similarly shocked. “They’re wearing gold, you can see it from here…the Jin sect has sent their armies here? How could they even think to dare? Chifeng-zun will annihilate them!”

Lan Wangji’s throat worked, and for a moment he felt drowned in the quiet once more, his voice not wanting to cooperate with him, his entire being willing or even wanting to return to the solace of seclusion if it would only mean that he wouldn’t have to hear the horrible din of war once more. But he was not a coward, and would do what he must – even speak of things that felt impossible to be spoken.

“That complicated situation I mentioned,” he said, and Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. “My brother has either conspired with or was duped into assisting Lianfang-zun in an attempt on Chifeng-zun’s life through destabilizing his qi and inducing a qi deviation.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. “They did what?!”

“Chifeng-zuns remains alive, but is confined to his bed,” Lan Wangji continued, ignoring the interjection. “Nie Huaisang was the one who ordered the shield raised, saying that there might be an attack – I thought he was overreacting, but apparently not.”

“If Jin Guangshan can take over the Unclean Realm while Nie Mingjue is incapacitated, he can say that the incapacitation is worse than it really is,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly getting it. Lan Wangji had forgotten how much he enjoyed working alongside those from Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian most of all but also in his absence Jiang Cheng, who was smart and did not require too many words to understand. “Everyone knows Nie Huaisang’s a good-for-nothing – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the Jin sect to claim that they came here at the invitation of the Nie sect to ‘rescue’ them, and remained in order to manage the sect on their behalf. Better that than have Chifeng-zun recover and come after you in vengeance!”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“But surely they didn’t think they’d be able to get away with it? Even if they could manage it for a while, as soon as the confusion cleared up, all the other sects would throw a fit…”

“Jin Ling,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng blanched, seeming to realize the problem at once. His beloved nephew legally belonged to the Jin sect; if he dared to protest their actions, wouldn’t they be sure to take him away? As for the Lan sect, Lan Xichen would have been implicated through his actions – they could hold his participation over his head, forcing him to pick between supporting them and losing face for the whole sect, which would in turn weaken it. And that was assuming that Jin Guangyao didn’t somehow manage to talk Lan Xichen into thinking it was all for the best regardless…

There were only four Great Sects left, now. If the Lan and Jiang did nothing, who would be left to stand up for the Nie?

“I have to get inside. Nie Huaisang will need my support,” Lan Wangji said, but instead looked down at the children beside him.

“Go,” Lan Sizhui said, releasing his hand and stepping back away from him. “I’ll take Jingyi and hide in the room we’re staying in. You won’t need to worry about us – go, do what you need to!”

Jiang Cheng flinched as if he’d been struck.

Lan Wangji glanced at him. “The Jin sect army,” he said. “However unlikely, there’s still a chance that we are misinterpreting their motives.”

“I’ll go find out what I can,” Jiang Cheng agreed at once. “How many there are, what can be done…I’ll find out and report back.”

Lan Wangji tossed him the guest token he’d been given. “Be cautious,” he said. He still hadn’t forgiven Jiang Cheng for what he’d done in the Burial Mounds, but he was willing to wait until a better time to talk it over with him – now was not the time to try to gain understanding.

Jiang Cheng nodded and left at once, and Lan Wangji saw the children off, then hurried to do the same.

By the time he made it to the main hall, his brother and Jin Guangyao were already there, and Nie Huaisang was confronting them with nothing more than a fan gripped in white-knuckled hands and a glare.

“– dare you talk as if he’s gone mad, as if he can’t be trusted?” Nie Huaisang was shouting. “You should know how seriously we take such words here!”

“It is because of that that we are worried,” Lan Xichen said, and now it was Lan Wangji’s turn to flinch. His brother’s voice sounded just the way it always did, comforting in its familiarity: he sounded calm and patient, thoughtful and wise, sure of himself. He sounded as if he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. “Huaisang, you don’t know how much your brother has been worried about suffering the way your father did. He knows that qi deviations can be subtle as well as harsh – he understands that his reason might be the first to go –”

“And so you took it upon yourself to decide that for him?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “You keep saying that he understands, that he would understand, all that. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Huaisang, please,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice just as gentle as always. “You know we only want what’s best for your brother.”

“Do you?” Nie Huaisang said, but he was still looking at Lan Xichen. “You knew he hated the quiet room, er-ge. You knew that he’d never wanted anything to do with it – it’s not like that was anything new! That was something he’d said repeatedly, year after year, month after month, for his entire life. You knew how he felt about it, and you decided to ignore what he wanted in favor of what you wanted. How is that wanting what’s best for him?”

“I was only concerned for his health,” Lan Xichen said, sounding injured by the accusation. “I had nothing but good intentions…”

“Your intentions are immaterial compared to your actions,” Lan Wangji said, and they turned to look at him, both of them surprised – maybe they really hadn’t noticed he’d left the Cloud Recesses.

Well, he thought bitterly: they’d notice now.

He took a step into the room, then another.

“Your actions are this,” he said, ignoring the way his brother stared at his forehead, unadorned by the ribbon that had been there ever since he’d been a small child, receiving it for the first time from his uncle as a precious gift. “You did not trust or respect your elder brother’s word. You disregarded his decision, treating him like a child who can’t be trusted to make up his own mind – you put your own desires ahead of his, and in doing so, betrayed him. Did you really think he’d thank you for it?”

Did you think I’d thank you one day for authorizing our sect’s attack on the Burial Mounds without ever having to explain yourself? Even our uncle respected me enough to tell me at once what he had done and let me decide how I felt about it, accepting the consequences of his actions!

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured. “You’re still healing, you shouldn’t be wandering around…where is your self-restraint?”

Where is your forehead ribbon, he meant, and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Wangji, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said, and Lan Wangji stiffened at the unasked-for intimacy of the address. “Whatever da-ge said to you, whatever he did, you cannot allow others to guide you by filling your heart with incomplete echoes of what you have lost. You will never forgive yourself.”

Lan Wangji was so furious that he could not speak. Was Jin Guangyao implying that Nie Mingjue had, what, seduced him? That Lan Wangji held his love for Wei Wuxian so cheap that he would have his head turned by the first person willing to make up to him in such a fashion?

“I should hope you know my da-ge better than that, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said coldly, still speaking only to Lan Xichen. “Or is this something else where you will believe the words of that lying dog over everyone else and the evidence of your own reason to boot?”

“Huaisang, that is unwontedly cruel, and uncalled for,” Lan Xichen said, tearing his eyes away from Lan Wangji. “Whatever Wangji has decided, I do not blame Mingjue-xiong for it.”

Implying, Lan Wangji supposed, that it was Lan Wangji that was to blame for it.

“Put the blame where it belongs,” he said stiffly, staring at his brother as if looking at a stranger. “Was I to leave Chifeng-zun where I found him, half-dead and dying in our jingshi where you left him at Lianfang-zun’s incitement?”

“You think I don’t recognize that I’ve done wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I will speak to Mingjue-xiong and apologize – I will explain my reasoning and let him decide how I can make it up to him. But please, there is no call for you to be cruel to A-Yao. Do not blame him for my mistakes.”

“What about for his lies?” Lan Wangji asked. He took a breath, sharp and unhappy, and suddenly it was desperately, urgently necessary to know the truth. “Brother, tell me you didn’t know. Tell me you weren’t in on it – that you didn’t try to kill Mingjue-xiong in order to cover up your affair.”

“What, kill, you think I would try to…Wangji! Affair?” Lan Xichen exclaimed, and he seemed genuinely shocked. “No, Wangji, you’ve misunderstood entirely! It’s not like that at all. Mingjue-xiong and A-Yao, they were once lovers –”

“No, we weren’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

They all turned at once. He was standing at the door, all but clinging to the doorframe to keep himself standing; he was swathed in bandages and still stuck with needles. None of them had heard him or seen him approach – he must have heard them shouting and dragged himself over.

He sounded tired. He sounded quiet.

He looked at Lan Xichen.

“I was never Meng Yao’s lover,” he said. “Not now, not before, not ever. And Xichen…you knew that, didn’t you?”

#mdzs #lan wangji #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #jiang cheng #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #the quiet room #you may want to reread previous chapters to get caught up

171 notes · View notes

mainveyn · 3 years ago

Text

《 unspoken love 》 suna rintarou x reader

wc : 1.3k

genre : soft angst that u guys can handle :)

a/n : finding a divider that match w the picture is much harder than i thought

series : silent love ▪︎ unspoken love ▪︎ nebulous love ▪︎ ardent love

practice was already over about an hour ago, but you insisted on staying back for free practice by yourself. your captain and teammates are concerned to have you clean up the gym all by yourself but you reassured them. after all, you need to stay back late enough to not cross paths with suna on your way to the school gate. surprisingly, you heard from his teammates that he went home quite early since the past few weeks but you didn't question it. you probably knew the reason already.

even so, you still tried to avoid him at all costs. you didn't show up at your usual spot for lunch nor did you walk past his classroom anymore. he texted you daily but your replies are short and uninformative at all. you knew he probably noticed it but if he is not mentioning anything, you think it's better this way.

but it's not, not when you missed his presence so much. you missed those days when he walked you home and held your hands to cross the street. you missed him stealing food from your bento when he lied that he only brought chuupet for lunch. you missed him telling you to drop by his class and ask you to tutor him before he has to take an english test in the next two hours. you didn't realize he had involved himself in your life that much that you can never get him out of the picture anymore.

you regret for missing out all the opportunity to clarify your doubt with him. as much as you loved this wordless relationship with him, you didn't expect it'd throw you into the trouble of wandering to yourself just what exactly are you and suna. is he just being nice? does he only think of you as a friend? yeah, you should've asked while you had the chance. but now you can only imagine him rejecting your love when he already have someone in his heart.

the walk to your clubroom was pretty dreadful but you still dragged your feets toward it. the hallways are really quiet and peaceful now, which used to be your favourite place to take a stroll. but now you want nothing more than to quickly change out of your sweaty jersey and go home. you’re reminded of how you're totally off game today in practice as your mind only wanders around the memories of him. disappointment is just an understatement because you can't believe you're losing both the most important person in your life and the sport that you took pride in.

your hand stopped at the doorknob as you lifted your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall, taking deep breaths in the process. you gave yourself a few minutes to steady your breathing before putting up a facade, trying to act normal again. as if god hates you right now, you caught someone round the corners of the hallway and halted a few metres away from you. and it's definitely the person that you didn't want to see right now.

"hey," his gaze focused on you entirely, retrieving one of his hands from his pockets to wave at you. you merely gave him a side glance and faked a smile at him. "i'm gonna go get changed first. bye su-" "i'll wait for you," he cuts you off with his unfaltered stare as if he is telling you he won't take no for an answer. you could feel your shoulders tensed up at his stern tone but you knew you can't run from him now.

you didn't expect a confrontation would happen so soon nor are you good at it too so you find yourself shrinking under his stares. an exasperated sigh from you made him move closer to you, but he stopped as you turned to face him fully now. "you don't have to. aren't you supposed to be home early today?" you decided to go against him today, so that it's easier for you to reject his kind offer in the future. you insist it's better this way.

suna averted his eyes to the side for a moment before quickly bringing his eyes back to trace your feature. you didn't look angry or uncomfortable but he didn't miss the sadness swirling in the reflection of your orbs. "did i...make you upset or something? i don't remember i did anything but," he rubbed the nape of his neck out of nervousness before he continued.

“i’m sorry if i did. so stop avoiding me already," his stoic expression remains but you perfectly captured his emerald eyes laced with concern. he did nothing wrong and yet he is here apologizing because he is worried about you. you really didn't have the heart to push him away. probably never.

everything seems normal, like how you guys used to. you both walked in silence, except for the fact that your heart is getting heavier at each step you take. you two walked past the same convenience store, it's neon light sign lightened up the street in the dark just like every other night. suna stood in front of the same junction, eyes scanning for any cars even though the lights flashed green for you both to cross. he does it every time, making sure it's safe for you to cross before offering his hand for you to hold. you expected it so you walked ahead of him, not giving him any chance to do that.

you didn't notice you start picking up your pace as the distance to your house is getting closer. but you do after you feel a firm tug from the sleeve of your jacket. suna gave you an unamused look, but you tried to feint innocence and told him "i'm reallyyyy tired today! just wanna get home and rest." you hoped your smile was convincing enough.

you stiffened at the sight of his annoyed expression because he obviously doesn't believe it. you almost regret letting him into your life too much that he can read you so easily. he didn’t spare you a second and grabbed your hand instantly, ignoring that you tried to retract it and only held his grip on you firmly. the warmth from his palm is so comforting yet it hurts. but you’d exchange anything for his touch, including your heart.

for the first time, the silence surrounding you two is unbearable. your house is just right in front you, yet he has no intention of letting go. you didn’t have the courage to speak up, just silently giving him side glances. suna looked up to the sky like he was thinking of something to say. you noticed his lips trembled a little so you squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention.

“what’s wrong, suna?” you whispered softly but he still remained in the same position. at this point, you loved him too much that you can’t leave him alone even though you’re hurting under his presence. even if you can’t be with him, you want him to be happy.

he turned to you swiftly, shifting both of his palms to your cheek now and pulled you in closer. you hitched at the sight of his face being just inches away as you balled your fist on his jacket. “y/n,” you watch his eyes drooped into a pleading look, his forehead touching yours now with so much affection. you didn't know what to expect, but you could feel he held back all the words he wanted to tell you before moving away with his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“there’s an important match tomorrow,” he said with his gaze on the floor, shoving his hand into his pocket to hide his nervousness. if you think you’re the only one who is afraid of rejection, then you’re wrong. because suna is afraid too, at least for now.

“will you come and watch me tomorrow?” you can never say no, not even your heartache will allow you to do so.

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

#suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna fluff #suna angst #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu suna

139 notes · View notes

darthfrodophantom · 3 years ago

Text

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Ouija Board

Summary: To get into the spooky season spirit, Tucker and Sam convince Danny to play a video game late at night, and Danny isn’t pleased about the subject of the video game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34303123

Too Close to Home

“Let me get this straight,” Danny interrupted. “I fight ghosts - real ghosts - on a nightly basis. And now that I actually have a free night you want to take up the time that I should be sleeping to fight fake ghosts?”

He shook his head as he looked at his computer screen, the only light in his entire bedroom aside from the digital clock that showed the hour: 11:45. From the first-person view of the computer game on his screen, he watched the avatars of both of his friends attempt to throw basketballs into a hoop.

“But this is way more fun,” Tucker’s voice said over Danny’s headset. “And it hurts a lot less! Ah! Dang it Sam - you messed up my throw!”

Sam cackled triumphantly. “Better pay more attention to your timing then.”

Tucker groaned as his avatar abandoned the basketball for spray paint cans, which he chucked at Sam. “Besides Danny, we’re not fighting ghosts: we’re hunting them.”

“Fine, fight, hunt, whatever. I still do both of them,” Danny argued.

“Not like this you don’t,” Tucker grinned. “God he’s gonna get creamed.”

“You know Danny, maybe we should let you go to bed. You’re gonna ruin my perfect streak,” Sam teased.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’ll actually do better because you have a true ghost hunting professional on the team,” he defended. He had no idea why he was bragging - he’d just been given an out and given the late hour he should take it, but now it felt like he needed to defend his pride as a ghost hunter. …That thought sounded a little too similar to something his parents would say and he quickly dismissed it. “Besides, I played the tutorial, I know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure out why we’re doing this.”

“Because it’s spooky season,” Tucker replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We are only five days into October, Tucker, and if you’re gonna keep doing this all month I am going to hit you with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick,” Sam threatened.

“I dunno, it might be worth it,” Tucker teased. “What do you think Danny?”

Danny shook his head, even though none of them could see it. “As the only person in this group who has actually been hit by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, I would back off,” he advised.

“Listen to Danny Tucker,” Sam chuckled as her avatar walked over to the white board to set up the hunt. “He’s actually speaking wisdom for once. Now come over here and pick out your gear.”

The playful teasing between best friends stopped as they actually got serious and picked out the gear they would need for their mission. Since Danny had no money, he couldn’t really participate in the conversation, but it seemed like Tucker and Sam had played this enough to know what they needed to bring. Sam started the mission, and their avatars found themselves inside the trailer looking at another whiteboard.

“Alright, looks like our ghost is named Thomas Clark and he responds to all of us,” Sam informed the group while Tucker’s avatar walked over to the shelves to equip supplies.

“Well that’s a dumb name for a ghost,” Danny complained as he looked at the bulletin board next to the computer. He had to squint at his screen to read them, but the articles were fairly legible and contained ghost stories he remembered hearing his parents talk about. It also had a recent article that he actually remembered running in USA Today proclaiming Amity Park as the most haunted city in the world - he didn’t know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. “He should have gone with Thomas Phantom instead.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, now that sounds like a proper ghost,” Tucker added between laughs.

“I knew I was going to hate this,” Danny groaned under his breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam’s avatar turned to face the new whiteboard. “Alright, fine. Objective one: find out what kind of ghost we’re dealing with - standard. Objective two: witness a ghost event.”

“I am a ghost event,” Danny smirked, causing Tucker to burst out laughing again.

“Objective three,” Sam snapped, “capture a photo of the ghost.”

Tucker’s avatar grabbed a camera and snapped a picture of Danny’s avatar. “Got one!” he proclaimed, which drove both boys into laughter.

“Objective four,” Sam said louder, “get a ghost to walk through salt.”

“What? That’s dumb. Everyone knows that’s an old wive’s tale,” Danny complained as he shook his head. Did the creators of this game actually do any real research before they made this game?

“Are you regretting this yet Sam?” Tucker asked as he finally stopped laughing.

“Let’s just get in the house,” she groaned. Danny smirked in triumph, and he could tell Tucker was sharing a similar smirk on his end.

They divided up equipment between the three of them, but not before Danny could comment on the inaccuracies of each of the pieces of equipment and how useless they’d be in an actual ghost fight. From faulty science to just being plain incorrect, Danny made sure to have pithy comments about all the equipment. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that it had to be accurate - he was not his parents - but as a ghost and a ghost hunter, it just felt a little more personal than he wanted to admit.

Because he was the newest one, Danny got stuck with the Spirit Book (“What? Are they trying to imply all ghosts can’t write? That’s alivist!”) and the EMF Reader (“...Okay that one’s actually accurate”) because they were apparently the easiest to use. Laden down with their gear they walked up to the small house. Sam’s avatar unlocked the door and they headed inside. Danny noticed the tonal shift immediately. Outside he could hear wind and crickets chirping, but once he stepped inside the doorway, an oppressive silence covered his headphones. It reminded him of the sensation on a pressurised airplane and it unnerved and unsettled him...a lot more than he planned to admit to his friends.

“Alright, spread out,” Sam instructed. “See if you can find the ghost room.”

Ghost room, right. He remembered that from the tutorial. It had been the garage in the tutorial, so he figured he should start there. He walked back through the dark house, turning lights on as he went. It wasn’t because he was scared - absolutely not, he was a real ghost hunter! - it was just much easier to see. He pulled out the EMF reader and walked into the garage. It had an eerie quality to it, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered seeing the ghost there last time (a mean looking (and inaccurate) ghost covered in blood and holding an axe) or if it was because he was alone and the room was so large, but he did not like being in here.

“You know, in the tutorial, the ghost was a bloody axe-man,” Danny remarked over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I think he’s standard in the tutorial,” Sam remarked offhand. He did not want to admit how good it felt to hear her voice in the oppressive silence of the house. They were clearly focused on their tasks, and that was a good thing, but it felt a lot better hearing their voices.

“Red blood,” he continued, simply to trigger more conversation. He didn’t get any EMF readings, so he gratefully left the garage. “Not ectoplasm. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“Ugh, Danny, they’re going for a horror aesthetic, not something real,” Sam sighed.

“What? Ectoplasm-stains are horrifying,” he countered as he walked through the rest of the first story. Still no EMF readings.

“Only when it’s yours,” Sam said, and the weight of those words echoed in the silence of the house that made him stop moving for a moment. “No cold spots upstairs,” Sam informed them to break the silence.

“Yeah, no EMF downstairs,” Danny added. “I’m gonna check out the basement.” That’s where they loved to hang out in the real world, so it seemed the next best choice.

“Oh hang on, if you’re going down there I’ll go with you,” Tucker spoke up.

Danny stopped halfway down the stairs. “It’s fine, I’m pretty used to basements,” he joked weaky.

“Yeah, well the last time you went into a basement alone with untested ghost equipment you died.” Tucker said it light-heartedly as a joke, and it was one they’d said a bunch of times before, but somehow it just didn’t feel the same in this tense environment. It felt too...personal.

He waited for Tucker’s avatar to appear before they walked down the stairs together into the basement. Unlike Sam’s basement or his own, this basement had a much creepier feel to it, with the foreboding worn brick walls and discolored cement flooring. Honestly he was glad Tucker went down there with him because it just felt better having another person there.

“Sam, maybe you should get down here with the thermometer,” Tucker mentioned as they both walked through the basement. “Because we’re not--”

Danny whirled around as he heard something thud hard against the ground behind him while he jumped in his chair. The EMF reader in his hand jumped up to three dots and blared at them while he stared at a box of tools now on the ground. The ghost was clearly in the room. Danny half-expected his ghost sense to go off, but he had to remind himself it was just a video game. There wasn’t actually a ghost here.

“What happened?” Sam’s urgent voice said over the walkies.

“Ghost knocked something off the shelf down here,” Tucker said as his avatar walked over to the toolbox. “Ooh! We’ve got fingerprints!” he cheered as his avatar shined a light on a glowing handprint.

“Oh that’s so not how that works,” Danny complained, just to help lighten the mood. Honestly he felt a bit jumpy knowing that the ghost was in the room...and he couldn’t sense him. He’d dealt with invisible ghosts before, but his ghost sense always gave him a vague idea of where they were...except for now. He turned in his chair to check the room behind him. No ghosts, no ghost sense. It’s just in the computer game.

“Figures that the ghost would be in the basement,” Sam remarked as her avatar walked down the stairs and opened her journal. Right! Journal. Danny opened his and placed their one piece of evidence inside. The sooner they got all of those the sooner they could leave, and he really liked that idea.

“I’m not seeing freezing temperatures, but it is a little cooler than the rest of the house,” she continued. “So let’s start setting stuff up in here. Tucker get the DOTS up and I’ll place the camera. Danny place the spirit book.”

Okay, this wasn’t so bad with the three of them in the room. He could hear them moving around and he could see them, so it made him feel a bit better. And there was still no sign of the ghost. He put the spirit book down near the toolbox and looked away from it. Maybe the ghost wouldn’t write in it while he was watching? He didn’t know.

“Ooh!” Tucker cried excitedly.

“Did you see it in the DOTS?” Sam asked.

“No - Ouija board! Oh yeah!” Tucker cheered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh I love these,” Sam agreed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. Why were they acting so happy - didn’t they forget there was a ghost in this room with them?

“Hang on, let Danny try the Ouija board,” Tucker suggested. “You know, because he’s never seen it before.”

“Ooh good idea,” Sam agreed. Danny walked over to where they were and saw Sam’s avatar set down a light brown board.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sus about your motives right now,” Danny said. He had a bad feeling about this...

“No Danny, it’s fine. These are actually pretty cool in this game,” Sam assured him. She quickly explained how the Ouija boards worked in the game and what questions to ask, and against his better judgment, he walked over and activated the board. The numbers and letters glowed orange against the light color of the wood.

He decided to start with something easy, so he swallowed and forced his voice to come out clear. “How old are you?” He jumped in his chair and his avatar backed up quickly as the planchette moved across the letters.

“Y - O - U - N - G,” Tucker read. “A young ghost.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s the crawling baby ghost,” Sam sighed. “I really hate that one.”

“Ask it something else,” Tucker encouraged.

“I don’t know,” Danny hedged. For some reason the Ouija board set him on edge. Something deep in his gut did not like this. Even if it wasn’t real and he kept telling himself it wasn’t real, he didn’t like it.

“No dude, it’s okay,” he assured him. “You can ask two questions before a significant sanity drop. Just ask it one more and you can go back to the truck.”

He very much wanted to go back to the truck. He just needed a chance to regroup. He was a ghost and fought ghosts for a living and he could not understand why this game unnerved him so much. But Danny Phantom wasn’t scared of ghosts, any kind of ghosts, and he wasn’t about to show it on a video game. “Fine,” he groaned as he picked up the board again. “Who died?”

This time he knew what to expect, and didn’t jump as much as the planchette started moving. First to the D, then to the A. Over to the N, then looping back to the N. It ended on a Y.

All three of them stopped moving. The silence became even more deafening around them. Danny dropped the Ouija board and backed up as far as the game would let him. He felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Danny. It spelled Danny. How did it know his name?

“...That has got to be a coincidence,” Sam finally said after the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“The ghost’s name must be Danny,” Tucker suggested, voice full of forced bravado.

“...No it’s Thomas,” Sam said slowly. “It must just be reading your username to scare you,” she decided.

“No my...my username is GhostBoy,” Danny reminded them, finally feeling like he could speak.

“Is this game actually haunted? Danny, what did you do?” Tucker accused, voice bordering on hysterics.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Danny yelled back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He put a hand up to feel his breath - still normal temperature. He looked around his room. There wasn’t a ghost here. But how did it know his name? And that he did almost die in a basement? “You’re the one that told me to use it!”

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Sam interrupted. “It’s gotta be a coincidence. Let me try it and see if it says the same thing or gives me my name. It could be a new update that checks the name on the Steam account or something.”

Sam moved closer to the board, but before she could touch it all their flashlights flickered.

“Shit!” Tucker yelled.

“Run!” Sam cried in a panic.

Danny followed them up the stairs to the main level. The idea of running from a ghost, not fighting it, was so foreign to him, but he had no choice. He was powerless here. No ghost powers, no weapons, no thermos. He was completely helpless against this ghost.

He bolted for the garage, the one other room he knew how to get to. Sam’s avatar was running next to him. He could hear footsteps behind him and he swore as he ran towards the garage. Sam diverted into another room, but he continued into the garage. He found a locker he’d opened before and rushed into it. He barely remembered to turn off his flashlight and he waited. Seconds passed and he realized he was holding his breath. No...not holding his breath. Not breathing. He looked down at his hands and saw the glowing white gloves. When...when did he change into his ghost form?

Sam’s voice over the walkie startled him. “What the--? Oh my G--” The walkie feed cut to static and then nothing.

“I...I think it got Sam,” Tucker’s voice said over the walkie. Danny turned on his flashlight and saw that it was no longer blinking. He threw his head back in relief. The hunt was over. He climbed back out of his locker, keeping the door open again just in case.

“Dude, she was running right next to me. It must have followed her instead of me,” Danny told him. “Ugh, well what are we going to do now? She’s the only one who knew what she was doing!”

“Wait, I thought you would be a pro because you’re a ‘professional ghost hunter’ - isn’t that what you kept saying?” Tucker teased.

“Yeah, well I lied! This is nothing like ghost hunting!” he argued as he walked out of the garage. He was going back to the trailer. “Real ghost hunters would bring some kind of weapon and wouldn’t just run around helpless! We should just call it.”

“What? No! We’ve got two more pieces of evidence to collect. And we haven’t done any of the objectives! Tucker retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped as he walked down the main hallway. “if you want to keep looking for clues you can, but I’m going back to the trailer to check--”

The front door slammed shut. His flashlight blinked again.

“Shit!” Tucker cried.

Danny could hear the footsteps behind him. He could feel a heart thumping in his headset. He started running off to a room but stopped. No, he was not running again. He was going to stare this ghost down and prove that Danny Phantom was not scared of some ghost. His image struck fear in the hearts of ghosts and his name carried respect in the Ghost Zone. He was not going to let some video game ghost get the better of him and spook him with some Ouija board trick.

He turned around to face it, camera at the ready. If he was going down, he was getting a picture of it. The ghost blinked in the hallway and Danny saw the cause of his anxiety for the first time. The ghost floated down the hallway, with white hair and a black and white jumpsuit. It...it was him. The ghost was Phantom.

He completely forgot to take a picture as his own image rushed at him. He saw two gloved hands cover over the screen and then everything went dark. He heard the crash of breaking glass, saw a strange underground cavern for a second, and then he was back in a foggy blue version of the house.

The ghost of Sam’s avatar approached him, and he heard her laughing over the headset. It sounded like she’d been laughing for awhile. “Oh my god Danny, did you see the ghost?” she asked between laughs.

“It...that was...oh my God,” he groaned. It all made sense. Spelling Danny was likely an Easter egg, a cute nod to his name of Danny Phantom. The fact that it happened in the basement was just a coincidence, because it’s a creepy spot and a commonly haunted area. He hadn’t summoned anything. He wasn’t being targeted by some ghost in the computer. It was just an Easter egg paying homage to him.

Suddenly all the stress left him and he laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh after all that panic. This game had gotten him so worked up and over what? Over a ghost that looked like himself? Suddenly it all seemed so silly that it scared him that much. He had felt actual dread and fear, enough to trigger an unconscious transformation out of a need to protect himself, but there weren’t actually any real consequences. Now he just got to walk around unhindered in this ghostly version of the house, but nothing else actually happened.

Sam laughed along with Danny. “So you did see it then?”

“It was...oh my god Sam it was me! It looked just like me!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “As soon as I saw it I forgot to keep running and stared. So of course it killed me. I did get a picture though,” she bragged.

“Oh man. I meant to, but I was just too stunned.” Now that he felt much better, he decided to wander around the house following Tucker who, for some reason, was still trying to finish the level on his own.

Sam suspiciously stopped her laughing. “Wait...Danny, your voice sounds weird. Are you...are you in your ghost form?”

Danny bit his lip as a slight blush graced his cheeks. “I don’t want to hear it.” But the telltale whoosh of the glowing rings turning him back to his human form seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. Except, he didn’t hear her laugh.

“...Danny, I wanted to apologize,” she said, and that made Danny stop moving and look quizzically at the screen.

“What? Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For goading you into playing this game,” she clarified, her voice surprisingly serious. “While I’ve been hanging out here in the spirit world, I realized why this game set you off so much.”

“What do you mean? I never said it set me off,” Danny defended. How could she possibly know that? He thought he was playing it pretty cool.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re in your ghost form and you were panicking after the Ouija board thing.”

“Hey you would panic too if--”

“Danny I’m trying to say that I get it,” she interrupted. “Being near a ghost without your powers? Without any weapons? Being powerless? It’s one of your biggest nightmares, that your powers will fail when you need them. And this game, it’s too close to home.”

Danny stopped moving and stared at the screen, because she was absolutely right. This was too close to home. How many times did he have to check to make sure his ghost sense wasn’t actually going off? How many times did he keep thinking about how similar everything felt to his own experiences? How unnerved he was about a ghost in the basement? It was too similar to his real life...except he had the tools he needed in his real life. Not a flashlight and some dumb spirit book, but actual real tools and powers and weapons, but here they were all taken away from him. Everything he relied on to fight ghosts had been stripped from him in the game and trapped him helpless in a house with his friends. Of course that bothered him. It was, as Sam said, one of his more recurring nightmares.

“...Yeah I think I’m good never playing this game again,” Danny admitted, the closest he planned to get to acknowledging everything she said was true.

“Honestly? I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed softly. “I think it’s easier for us because we’re used to this role: when there’s a ghost in the area, we help figure out what’s going on and support you. It’s not all that different from this game,” she explained. Her ghostly avatar followed Tucker out of the house and he followed after them. “But when you’re used to doing the fighting and defending and can’t...I guess it’s probably harder to separate yourself from the game.”

He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was too similar to his daily life, and as he tried to argue at the beginning, he didn’t need to hunt fake ghosts poorly when he knew how to fight real ghosts well. “You know you sound like Jazz,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Wow, you’re going to insult me after I tried to help you?” Sam scoffed. “See if I ever help you again!”

Danny smiled at the screen, glad to be back to the teasing. He definitely felt more relaxed and more like himself. “Oh look, Tucker’s finally calling it quits,” Danny observed as Tucker closed the door to the trailer.

“God, I can’t wait to find out if he saw you.” He could hear her grinning through the headset and honestly he felt the same. Out of all of them, Tucker would be the most excited about this addition.

The screen changed over to the menu screen, showing all their accomplished objectives. It also meant that all three party members could talk to each other again. “I can’t believe you left me!” Tucker complained. “It’s even worse when you’re in there on your own! Do you know how much more evidence we needed to collect? Um, a ton!”

Sam laughed, and Danny had to join in. “Okay so we are sorry about that, but Tucker did you ever see the ghost?”

“No, which is probably why I’m the only one that survived!” he complained.

“Oh my god Sam, he didn’t see it,” Danny groaned.

“Oh my god.”

“No wait, didn’t see what?” Tucker asked. His voice had calmed down a bit and was colored with curiosity.

“Tucker...the ghost was Danny,” Sam told him.

“Uh no, we clarified his name was Thomas,” Tucker corrected.

Sam and Danny both groaned. “No Tucker, the ghost was Danny Phantom. It was skinned to look like Phantom,” she clarified.

Tucker’s line sat silent for a long time before he finally exploded in a shower of shock, excitement, and regret. “NO WAY! No! That is so cool! I mean I knew the developers were fans, but this is so cool! Like literally the best tribute ever. Oh my god I can’t believe I missed it! No!” he cried. He was so loud into the microphone that Danny had a hard time believing Tucker didn’t wake his parents.

“It’s why both of us died,” Danny explained. “We were just too shocked seeing it.”

“We’re going back in. I need to see this,” Tucker demanded.

Danny bit his lip. He was not going back in. He meant it when he said he was done. He almost had his explanation on his lips before Sam spoke up first. “I doubt it’ll show up two times in a row. I Googled it and the skin will be here for the whole month of Halloween as a random draw, so you’ve got time to see it. But if you want to try again tonight, I’ll keep playing if you want. Danny...he needs to get some sleep.”

“What? No, it's so much easier with three people. Come on Danny,” Tucker pleaded.

“Nah, Sam’s right, I should go to bed. Gotta be rested for those real ghosts tomorrow,” Danny chuckled. “Besides, being killed by my own image was a little weird.” And also a little too close to home, considering some of his memories of Dan.

“Yeah, this game isn’t Danny’s jam,” Sam explained simply. He had a feeling Sam would talk to Tucker more about what they discussed while their avatars were dead, and honestly he didn’t mind. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Tucker, he just really didn’t want to talk about it any more tonight.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re off the hook. At least you gave it a try though.”

“I did, and you’re both gonna owe me one for doing it too,” Danny reminded them.

“Dude, pretty sure you’re in the negatives when it comes to IOUs from us,” Tucker pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “Testing out inventions, excuses at school, doing your homework, remembering the thermos when you forget it, distracting your parents…”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Danny groaned as he left the screen and exited out of the game. “Well fine, then I’m less in the negative now. And on that happy subject, I’m going to bed. Good night guys.”

“Good night Danny,” Sam replied. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Danny almost hung up on their private Discord server when he heard Tucker speak up. “Hey Danny, wait.”

“What?” he asked curiously, his mouse still hovering over the disconnect sign.

“The type of ghost...was a Phantom.”

I’ve never cross-posted on tumblr before, so this will be a first! I hope you enjoy!

#ectober month 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #ouija board #Danny Phantom #phasmophobia #light angst #2k21 prompt ouija board #2k21 day 5

78 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Reality Takes Over

Summary- 8.6k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Visiting the reformed Pierce Pack, now under a new Alpha’s leadership, Caine. The young Alpha has a few questions for Steve. You and Steve seem to have finally found them at peace, but it still reaffirms that now your home is with your mate. Unfortunately it all comes crashing down in a matter of moments. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Dominating Sex, violence, swears. This is an 18+ Blog

A/N- A friend sent me a GIF that inspired the sexual scene in this fic. If any should want to see the GIF, send me a DM as I wont be posting it on my page due to the content of it. Thank you so much for continuing reading The Packs journey in this next stage. Thoughts and Questions are always welcome. Happy Howling. 🐺💙

Chapter One / Masterlist

Steve had to admit that Caine had really changed it all around in the months he has taken over. His pack was more relaxed and open, no longer living with the fear of a crazy Alpha. Steve watched his Little One pausing every now and then to greet a former pack mate while he simply stayed nearby watching You interact with your old pack mates. Even though he knew You still carried connections with them, it wasn't the same because now you were his. You constantly danced back to him, your body seeing his reassuring touch, either taking his hand once more to weave your fingers with his or slipping under his shirt to press your palm to his back. It was all about the connection, You and the Little Wolf always establishing that bond. Steve felt a calmness wash over him at your desire to remain close. Every time a soft praising rumble would rise from him making you pleased.

Soon Caine and Kat found the two of you “Welcome back, thinking about staying here Y/N?” The woman teased as she loped her arm through yours on the opposite of Steve. You scoffed with a shake of your head.

“And give up all the work I did with him? Hell no.” You joked, patting Steve's chest and smirking up at him. He growled in a mock warning and nipped at your nose before letting You go with a nudge, which you split off with Kat, going to catch up. Steve and Caine watched the women for a moment till Caine broke the silence.

“This is a side I have never seen of Y/N, it's good.” Caine observed in which Steve turned his attention from You leaving him and cleared his throat.

“Well I'm sure she has the same observations as all of you. Not living in fear will work wonders. The whole pack looks pretty good. While we were walking around, everyone is so content here. Have nothing but to say how good an Alpha you are.”

Caine gave almost a youthful excited look at the comment before clearing his throat to gain his composure in the other Alphas presence.

<I like this kid.> The Wolf yipped in Steve’s mind and Steve had to agree, knowing just how dedicated Caine was to his pack, even when he was nothing more than a captive.

I do too, and Y/N trusts him.

“Well thank you Steve, that means a lot. We deserve to just be a pack, a real and proper one. That was actually kinda why I sent Y/N a text inviting you two over. You see Ross has been sending members here, trying to talk to me about the Accords.”

Steve rumbled slightly at the mention of Ross. He hadn't seen the council member since you ran him off last fall. And that was just fine by Steve, he already made it known that he wanted nothing to do with the Accords nor would be signing them to give up part of his control of his pack to the council.

“And what do you think about them Caine? I’m sure they left a copy for you to read over.” he questioned, and Caine gave a slight wrinkle of his forehead considering how to answer the question.

“Well, part of me wants to, as all of this to take care of seems almost overwhelming at times. I want nothing but the best for my Pack, but giving up the rights to finalize choices, letting the Council be able to override my decisions? Seems dangerous to give it up. They claim it's to further protect our safety, especially if an Alpha loses his sanity. Ross claims that is what happened to Pierce, was corrupted by Hydra and that nothing could be properly done, as Pierce had every right to do what he wanted being the Alpha.”

“Yeah fucking bullshit. Pierce never should have been an Alpha. I don’t know how he managed it.” Steve growled out angrily at Caine’s words. “And that supposed Council had everything they needed to step in, they just didn’t. They were waiting to see where Pierce could lead them, at the innocent wolves expense.” Steve shook his head, the Wolf now pacing in agitation for his human counterpart. Caine nodded in agreement.

“What I thought as well when the Senator was trying to feed me this. I told him I would think about it. But I don't think that this is the best thing for us. We are still trying to recover and it's just hard to trust anyone right now. Giving up as Alpha, it just seems to go against our very nature.”

“Go with what you feel in your gut Caine.” Steve said. “You know what is the best thing to do for your wolves, they trust you for a reason.” The new Alpha looked relieved at Steve, that he was actually doing the right thing after a lifetime of his family being mistreated.

Soldat jumped out of the van Clint managed to hot wire, switching vehicles every couple hundred miles in case they were being followed. The Alpha they had collected groaned as Soldat yanked on the chain, Pietro pushing her forward from behind. Soldat never even bothered to learn her name.

Her name didn't matter, she was just the mission.

The White Wolf licked his muzzle hungrily, eyeing the Alpha, feeling the challenge her Wolf’s presence brought. But she was subdued, after killing her mate, all fight in her left. It broke her. She followed behind Soldat obediently as Brock unlocked the door to the warehouse, dragging her in.

“A female this time.” Brock gripped her face, twisting it so she had to look at him, his sneer growing wider as it roamed up and down her, Alanna rolling her eyes from behind him.

“Not much of a looker if you ask me. How did she get to be Alpha?”

Brock ripped his fingers away from her face, jerking her head back. “Not all Alpha’s are built on strength. But they are weaker, easier to control. Isn't that right Sweetheart. Put her in the back... there's a free cage back there for her. Oh and Soldat, enjoy yourself with her… she's a fine piece of tail.”

Soldat didn't say anything, just grabbed the chain he was using to lead her and tug her away with him, the rest of the team dispersed to unload the van of their equipment and dispense of it.

Alanna cocked her head as she watched Soldat leave with their latest Alpha. “Why do you do that? Offer him those Alphas like he will actually take you up on it. If you want him to get laid, why not just order it?”

Brock watched before he turned to Alanna. “He’s programmed to only fuck his mate, if he ever chooses one, then we know. Another way to control him.”

“You really believe in that crock of shit? Soulmates?” Alanna snorted out and Brock snapped his teeth at her.

“I see Rogers was quick to drop you without a regret and he went halfway around the world leaving his pack behind to save his new mate.” He challenged her and Alanna snarled at him, her rage flaring at the mention of her former partner.

“Fuck you Brock.”

“Later Sweetheart, I got more important shit to do.” His hand whipped out and snatched her by the back of her neck, twisting till Alanna yelled in pain. “Don't you forget who owns your ass now Bitch, you got the pretty scar to prove it.” He dropped her to scramble at his feet while he stepped away, leaving her wiping her face dry from the tears of pain he caused, composing herself.

Brock whistled a cheery tune as he followed along after Soldat to see if he was going to take him up on his offer or not.

When Soldat shoved the Alpha in, Brock came up next to him, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of her to file away for later.

“Good work, I have another one for you to go for. Coordinates are already pinged to your device. This one should be easy for you, he is fairly new and you’ve met him before.” Soldat dug out his own device and pulled up the file, a picture of a younger man paired along with a black wolf, both man and beast shown. “Collect him and bring him here, kill off as many of the pack as you can.”

Soldat frowned a bit looking at it, studying it when he felt a haze of a memory rise up. Several people mingling in a hotel room, people he didn't recognize and a voice coming from nearby.

“If Natasha and Bucky hadn’t come… Thank You, to all of you.” The Black Wolf he was looking at right now laying on a bed looking like he had just been through a fight, panting heavily.

“It was the least we could do, I’m sorry we didn’t know earlier.” The same voice he had heard calling to him days before when retrieving the Alpha. The White Wolf shook his head aggravated and Brock's voice sharpened suddenly.

“Soldat! ANSWER ME.”

“Yes Sir, we will head out right away.”

It was much later when you returned with Kat. Caine and Steve were sharing beers with other wolves, talking about general stuff, Steve doing his best to answer questions, explaining how he made his pack an asset to the community, bringing in income to the sleepy town below there mountain. It all felt like back at home, that you quickly settled back in. You sidled up to Steve's side, which his hand rubbed at your side and he dropped a kiss to your temple. “Thought I was going to have to go look for you, Little One.” He chuckled and you grinned up at him, taking his beer from his hand and sipping from it.

“Like you didn't know where I was the whole time.” You scoffed and Steve shrugged, it was true. With your bond, as long as you two were nearby, it wasn't hard for either of you to find the other. The wolves easily slipped back and forth along that shared bond, tangling together in greeting and breaking out in play as you lightly nipped at Steve’s chest when you turned into him, pressing against his chest as he tightened his arm around you.

“Sure I did, doesn't mean I didn't want to go find you and drag you away all for myself.” His voice husked in your ear, a flattening of his palm against your lower back pressed your hips into his and you could feel exactly why.

Your hand smoothed against his pecs as you turned around, leaning back against his chest and taking another sip of the beer before giving it back to him. Steve's arm slung around your waist loosely while he nipped gently against your mark, making you tilt your head for him with a satisfied sigh before focusing once more on the small group milling around.

“Would you consider coming back Y/N?” someone asked, a woman named Tess that you knew vaguely from the short amount of time she was for sale. Steve growled lowly at the question and you chuckled while pushing your hair back to flash your neck.

“Most certainly not. You all will always be family, but I’m bonded with Steve now. My home is with him and where we decide to go together. Right now as Alpha, we’re staying in the mountains.” You stated and you felt Steve shuffle behind you, speaking up as well.

“As long as your Alpha is fine with us visiting, Y/N will come back whenever she wants to. I know you all are her family and wouldn't ever ask her to push that away.” You could feel your Little Wolf howling to her mate, the satisfied warmth of her happiness flooding through you and you couldn't feel more content then you were right now.

Caine was nearby, nuzzling up to Kat in a sneaky way. The two of them teasing at the edge of the group when suddenly Caine seemed to realize that the attention was on them from the others in the group.

“Of course, Y/N, this is your home whenever you want to come. As well as any of your pack.” He cleared his throat. Kat hid her face a bit, trying not to give them away.

“Thanks Caine.” You are quick to answer, deciding then that it was time to pull you and Steve away for the night, which made you twist to face him. “What do you say Alpha, ready to call it a night? I got something I want to show you.”

Steve arched a brow at you, seeing how you were biting your lip and giving him a playful look. He gave a wave of his hand as you ran your fingers along his stomach through his shirt, pulling away from him, making him choke back a growl at the loss of your touch. “Nice meeting you all, see you tomorrow.” he said before walking stiff legged away. The rest of the wolves chuckled among one another at him trying to not be obvious.

You sprinted ahead while Steve was saying goodbye, well away from the group now and sliding into the darkness of twilight quickly taking over and making the shade under the trees almost dark as night now. You could hear Steve quickly catching up to you, which made you put on a burst of speed. You weren't going back to the little cabin you two were calling home for the night. You wanted to play, wide awake and ready for your Alpha. Darting into the woods, you picked up speed to put more distance between you two and cupped your hands together around your mouth to give a soft howl, enticing him to come find you, hunt you down. The Little Wolf filled your mind, your eyes glimmering yellowed in the low light as you darted away from where you could hear Steve.

Well that is the point.

The Little Wolf’s laughter filled your senses as you darted around a tree trunk, your hands pressing against the rough bark as you peered around, looking for any sign of movement. All your senses flared as you listened carefully for anything. Then to your left a snap made you jump, and the Little Wolf pounded her front paws, yipping. <Run! Run!> Turning the opposite way you raced off, panting as you picked up speed.

When Steve first followed, he thought you would make straight for the cabin. But you had veered off, following your honeysuckle scent that he picked up and took the first step into the darkening woods. Inhaling deeply, it was filled with new scents. The sharpness of the pines, the fresh crushed needles where you passed through. The wolves who lived here mingled scent, and it was somewhat reminiscent of you when he first met you. But now… He drew it in deeper when he found yours, it was different, it was his. Warming in his lungs as he plucked it loose from everything else clashing his senses. It was the one that had that honeysuckle undertones, but now it was more intimate. It was a scent he was surrounded with when you pressed in against him, especially when you were just about to go into heat. A welcoming desired scent that left him aching hard and a smirk spread with a slight possessive growl rumbling through him now that he smelled it. Knowing that the sweetness would be dripping from you, his own honey pot.

“Little One, you better run, because you certainly can’t hide.” he whispered as his footfalls were heavy at first. He could hear a giggle that you tried to muffle as you darted around trees and swiftly turned into trails that you found. The ferns growing under the forest swayed with your movements, some leafy fronds getting crushed in the process. Your howl echoed and bounced around, but Steve was hot on your trail, not being deterred.

He saw you ahead, when you went around a particularly large trunk and Steve went to the right, quiet in his footfalls till he happened to finally managed to get around where you were trying to hide. You peered the opposite side, stretching a bit to look. Completely unaware of where Steve was. His fingers itched now to grab a hold of your waist, pull your ass back to grind against his hips, hear you shriek in surprise and fall back into his chest to look up at him with a grin. He knew how you would play this, trying to escape him with sweet kisses and wriggles to bolt again. As Steve attempted to sneak in closer, the pad of his foot happened to press against a twig and snapped it, making you twirl around on your toes wide eyed in surprise and Steve lunged forward to catch you, your back against the tree that was shielding you earlier and his arms caging on either side of your head.

A surprise growl rolled through you when Steve pressed himself against you, catching you efficiently between him and the tree. Your hands fisted in his shirt and your eyes flashed yellow up at him. Flops of his hair fell forward on his forehead as his head dipped to yours, teasing lust filled kisses nipping on your lips, tugging at each other hungrily with groans. “Gotcha Little One.” Steve whispered, trailing his nose against yours, and his eyes closed while he inhaled against you.

You dragged your teeth against your bottom lip while running your hands up his chest and fingers pressed through his beard to follow the sharp angle of his jaw. “You did Alpha, now what are you going to do about it?”

Steve let your warm honeyed scent arouse him further, a sticky sweet honeypot of a mess his Little One was and he wanted to get his mouth on you, wrap himself around you till the whole world fell away. A cheeky grin crinkled the corners of his eyes, his grin turning wolfish in nature as he growled at you. “The Big Bad Wolf will eat you up.”

Your head fell back as laughter burst out sharply, disrupting the quiet of the night. “Smooth Alpha.”

He nipped on your mark, turning that laughter into a distressed needy moan as Steve's hands smoothed the back of your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around him. Pressing his erection against your core. “I ain’t nothing if I ain't smooth ‘Mega.” He stated before claiming your lips and pressing the length of his chest into yours, stealing your air from your lungs, and making you fist a hand at the back of his head, getting lost in him.

Soldat scanned the small pack. Some of it felt familiar, but not enough for the Hydra Soldier to consider what it meant. This was just another hit on the list Brock had for his team to overtake. These wolves were lazy in the night time warmth. Lulled to think they were safe in their packs boundaries. The White Wolf flexed in Soldats mind, licking over his jaw in anticipation of hunting them down. Soldat tilted his head in the air, searching out what the scents could provide to him.

The only thing out of place was the scent of two Alphas here. One was young, still new in leading the pack, the one he was after. His control would be iffy at best over the wolves unless their loyalty was already cemented to him.

But the other stirred the White Wolf in Soldat. Making him flex anxiously a moment at the sensation. Another time, another place he knew this one. It lingered in his senses and he didn't like that. Making him clench his jaw as the White Wolf shook his fur in agitation, unsure of how he knew it. Brock's voice came over the comm in his ear, snapping out. “Is the team set Soldat?”

Soldat moved from his crouch, retreating back to where the others waited. “You all know what to do. There are two Alphas this time, go for the younger one, get the other if you can.” he told his team. Silently as always they dispersed. None of them questioned the fact that there were two Alphas. They had their orders, nothing else needed to be considered. Clint going one way through the trees, and the twins another. Wanda started to simmer red where her powers took an unnatural form, solidifying to cause harm instead of heal. Soldat shoved knives in various places in his kevlar and fitted a mask to his face for protection. That other Alpha, it still left Soldat and his Wolf unsettled for reasons he couldn't place while he prepared himself.

“Set and dispersed, starting extraction.” Soldat said into the comm, and not even thirty seconds later Pietro's snarls and howls started on the other side of the packs compound, Soldat came out of the trees, sniper rifle lifted aiming right for the sleeping group by the nearby bonfire.

Steve ground himself into you, his chest rumbling as his hands rubbed at your sides and cupped your breasts to squeeze and tease. Your head was tilted back against the tree, drawing in air best you could as your mate sucked on your neck, tracing his mark on you with his tongue, his dirty talk making you ache, and rolling your hips to create that friction. “Gonna fill you Little One. Stretch you open and leave you dripping my cum till you're pregnant with my pups.”

God that made your heart race, knowing that he was going to knot you against that tree. His hands kept tugging and making you arch your back, wanting him to get rid of your clothes now and really lay claim to your body. It was a whirlwind of sensations prickling your skin in a heated way.

But then you heard it, at first it barely registered when Steve sunk teeth into your collarbone. You almost ignored it, but the Little Wolf couldn't. She stirred through your hazed mind, making you focus again outside of your Alpha. Another howl, distressed. “Steve… wait.” You tugged at his hair to lift his head away, and he growled in warning at you that he didn't want to wait, but you pulled again.

He lifted away from where he was tasting your skin, stilling his body and frowning slightly while panting. “What's wrong Little One?”

“Listen Steve… something isn't right.” You loosened your hold now that you knew Steve was focusing on you and he tilted his head to listen. Inhaling deeply for any change in the air. He stepped back, letting you loosen your legs around his waist and slip to a stand. Cold chills laced up your spine, looking around as the night seemed to turn silent and dangerous.

<We gotta go back to Caine and the others.> The Little One pressed against the Alpha, who was rigid next to her, searching himself for what she sensed.

But did we actually hear anything? You looked around you, but Steve's hand shot out and caught your wrist in his hand to keep you from moving away from him. His eyes wide as he found what he was looking for.

“Bucky… he’s here.” The Alpha rumbled out and that's when the yells rang out, the sharp rings of gunfire.

“The others… we have to get back to the others Steve.” You tugged your wrist loose to sprint away and Steve lunged to catch you, but you were too quick, already streaking through the woods.

“Y/N! Come back!” Steve yelled as he took off after you. Shedding clothes as you raced, the urge to listen to your Alpha made you falter, but not enough to make you stop. Soon you were falling to all fours, faster to make it back as the Little Wolf and you put on a burst of speed that had everything a blur around you. Soon at your side was a streak of silver as the Alpha attempted to keep up with you on unfamiliar ground. Your twists made him skid heavily into the trees and brush, but he was never far behind as he tried to over take you and before you could burst into the chaos just out of sight of the tree line, he snatched your ruff and jerked you off your feet.

The Alpha twisted you underneath him, his jaws pinning you to the ground while you struggled, but he wouldn't loosen his hold until you stilled and your eyes rolled up to look at him, willing him to release you. He couldn't let you charge into the attack like this, and he loosened, nudging you to creep forward to see what laid beyond out of sight. Both of you stayed low to the ground slinking till breaking out from the forest to the underbrush to see what was going on.

Bodies, your old pack littered the ground and your whine echoed so loudly in distress that the Alpha flattened his ears and pressed against you before slinking along the edge, trying to find the attackers.

A heaviness filled Steve's chest because he knew exactly what he would find. His muscles coiled when he finally caught sight of Bucky, who was taking aim at Kat. She was unaware of him while trying to help the injured to their feet.

You crouched next to him, quivering in shock and anticipation at seeing the missing members of the Pack. The Alpha growled out an order, demanding you help the others. As well as stay away from Bucky, the danger to great to risk letting you go near him. Bucky obviously wasn't in control right now. Once the Alpha was sure you understood, he nuzzled you quickly and split away, leaving you to wait till he had the soldier distracted.

Soldat just happened to see the other Alpha coming at him before he could take his shot. Barely. He spun to block the large wolf from hitting him. Teeth sank into his meatal protected arm, the shield plates clinking together to hold up against the pressure of the bite and he heaved back, sending the wolf sprawling back. A smaller one bolted from their hiding spot, to reach the people he was just about to end. It didn't matter, one of the others would take care of them. Soldat turned his attention to the Alpha he had scented earlier, the one who didnt belong here.

The Silver Wolf pushed back to his feet, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. Soldat knew he was scenting him, assuming it was for the animal to figure out what he was. Swinging the rifle over his shoulder to move it out of the way, he grasped for his belt to pull out a collar. The Wolf's ears flicked forward to what was in his hand and turned wary, stalking out of Soldat's reach. A low growl rippled through him, and the White Wolf ached to submit for just a moment, but it was easy to brush it away.

Why did you stall?

The White Wolf shook himself off, snarling out. <We have our orders.> Soldat heard the waver in him but started towards the Alpha. The Alpha matched his movements, picking up speed in his gait to collide back with him. <This ones got some balls.> Soldat heard the White Wolf remark.

All the more reason to get him collared and under control.

And just before they reached one another, the Alpha darted around him, making Soldat spin just to have the Alpha tackle him once more, teeth sinking into the kevlar of his suit. There was enough force to feel the bite, but nothing that could do damage. Fistfuls of fur was grabbed trying to wrestle him away and attempt to maneuver the collar around his neck. The Alpha managed to twist out of his hold in time and Soldat yanked a knife from a hidden spot, swinging it in an aim at the animal, trying to sink it into a vulnerable spot. Instead it grazed him, a spurt of red following the blades descent through its fur. A furious snarl demanding him to submit filled the air before man and wolf collided again.

You were busy helping Kat try to get the others away, stalling for a moment when you saw Clint emerging from out of nowhere, his aim sighted on you and the others. He was just about to let loose when you saw Caine get dragged towards him, collared now. Seeing that they had that packs Alpha, he dropped his bow and followed along with Pietro and Wanda. Unsure of what to do, Steve had demanded you only be to help and stay out of the actual fighting before breaking from cover earlier. The Omega in you wanting to obey her Alpha, keep pushing others to go into hiding like Steve wanted.

But these were your missing pack mates, and they were causing all the destruction. Everything in your senses screamed at you to go for them, as well as go back into hiding with Kat and the other survivors. Then the hot scent of blood hit you, your Alphas blood. All other thoughts left you as your nose lifted to find him.

It was being hit in the worst way possible, stinging your senses with fear as you broke from Steve's earlier command. Long leaps ate up the ground as you sought him out. You found him trying to bite at Bucky's neck before being thrown to the ground in a way that vibrated the ground, a knee dropping to his ribs while Bucky collapsed full force on him, a flash of silver in his hand let you know. Steve was just about to be collared.

The whole world just zeroes in on that moment, if you can't get there fast enough, you might lose Steve. He might be able to break free from Bucky's hold before the collar is attached. But you can't take that chance, and you make a grab for Bucky's wrist, closing fangs around the metal plates and wrenching back. Catching both of them by surprise, your back paws dig in for traction as you whip your head back and forth in a move meant to snap an animal's neck. It's enough to surprise Bucky and make him fall off the Alpha, the both of you tumbling away. It did earn you a well placed kick to your skull, which caused you to yelp while stunning you.

The Alpha pushed himself up once Bucky rolled off him, unsure of what caused him to let go, but the Alpha wasn’t going to let him get the chance again. The yelp made the hair raise on his back, now seeing the reason Bucky released him.

You disobeyed him, which resulted in your head getting kicked at and you crumpling to the ground in shock. The Alphas rage at your expense caused him to roar in fury, a whirlwind of fury attacking his best friend.

The Alpha managed to back Soldat up, covering your smaller form with his body. The Alpha bristled, his muzzle rolling up to show fangs and ears pinned back flat against his skull, warning him back. Soldat stalled again with the sensation he was supposed to listen to this Alpha, shaking his head to clear the impulsion.

“You got one of the Alpha’s, leave him.” Brock's voice screamed in Soldats ear, clearing it from the impulse. Soldat took off at a run, leaving the two of them behind.

You push yourself back to a shaky stand, having the wind knocked out of you and the kick disoriented you when the steel toe boots connected to your skull. The Alpha watched Bucky race away with perked ears, the shiver rolling through him controlling his urge to follow him, but he turned away from his best friend back to you. Padding over, the Alpha was quick to check you over, his muzzle pressing against your side to make sure nothing was broken till he nudged at your shoulder, getting you to move. When you started towards the injured, he growled sharply, making you falter and lower a bit in submission, unsure of what he wanted.

Coolly he pressed you the opposite way, towards the cabin you two were staying at for the time being. The Alpha didn't let up, keeping you heading away from the others and back to the safety of the cabin.

Steve had never had to quell such scared anger in his life, far more than when you had gone off the road that winter. It was raging hot that he could have lost you to Bucky, so easily. After he told you to stay away from Bucky, in that state the White Wolf would have easily snapped your neck if he got a hold of you. Because that wasn't Bucky, their packmate, his brother. Something happened to him.

You darted into the cabin and Steve was right behind you, the both of you racing up the stairs to the bedroom where you both shifted back almost on cue with one another. You grabbed at clothing, starting to tug them on. “We have to go back out there Steve, find them and the others.”

Steve was doing the same, but he was quick to turn towards you, his eyes still glinting hints of burning yellow while he ground out.

“You are staying here.”

You straightened and lifted your chin a bit when you heard Steve's command. The Little Wolf lowered to the ground hearing her Alpha’s command, but you simply weren’t going to accept that without finding out why you couldn't go help your former packmates. “I’m sure as hell not staying here Steve.” You hiss a bit while heading for the door. Steve was quicker though, his hand circling around your upper arm and tightening enough to pull you to a stop and back into the room. “Let me go Steven!” You try pulling out of his hold, but his hold tightened until he backed you onto the bed.

“I told you once Little One. Stay the fuck here.” His teeth snapped at his words and there was just anger in his features hiding his fear.. Fear that he could have lost you was clouding his mind with jagged memories of Pierce sticking you with that needle and he was that close to losing control and attacking Bucky then. Steve knew that if Bucky hurt you this time in any way, he wouldn't be able to control himself. No one would be safe.

You protested though, going to push against him while your voice raised in your own anger at trying to be controlled, unable to help the others. “Steve you can't-”

This time he roared out, the tendons in his neck rigid and his tone going deep and snarling at you in a way you had never seen before and you shrunk back suddenly from him. “As your Alpha I am, if you know what's good for you Y/N, stay in this cabin. That's an order.”

You hissed at him in anger from between clenched teeth. “You are going to have to make me submit Steve.”

If he had to, he would. Steve almost lost you once, so close… and that was all before you two even bonded. He was ready to lose himself back then and let the Alpha take over. It was an overwhelming sense of loss that sunk in his chest. Needing to push it away, he closed the gap between you two, pressing you back onto the bed in surprise while his lips claimed your own, searing them heatedly, and the shock made you growl against him, grasping his hair to hold on.

Steve kept the pressure, ready to make you submit to him completely. Hands grasped at your thighs, still clothed but he didn't care at this second. Wrapping them around his waist as he kissed you senseless, he easily maneuvered you up the bed, growling harshly when you tightened your hold, pulling his hair at the roots when you grabbed onto his head.

It all happened so suddenly that you could only hang while he maneuvered you to where he wanted you, blinking up at him in shock for a second when he pulled away to pant above you. Locked gazes, you arched up to meet him again, pulling at his shirt to rip at it, his hands doing the exact same to you. Shreds of clothing got tossed away as you both withered against one another. You bit into Steve's shoulder when he rutted himself against you. “You will listen Y/N, You have no choice in this.” he snarled out against your neck.

It was a heated spiral in your limbs, burning in your gut. Echoing in your mind was the Little Wolf snapping and yipping at the Alpha. You pushed against Steve to rub yourself into him, snarling against his ear. “Then do it!” It was animalistic the way he bit at your mark, making you gasp between pleasure and pain while dragging you closer till you felt him everywhere except where you needed him. Slick coated your thighs while his cock dragged against your thigh. “You want to make me listen so badly, here I am.” Another roll of your body and he pulled away to run his hands up your withering body, palms covering your breasts and marking the swells.

Before you knew it, you were flipped to your belly, Steve snapping your hips up in the air, the curve in your back sharp as you clutched at the bedding to scream your frustrations into the mattress, you were furious at Steve for commanding you to stay, and the way your body betrayed you. You could break it, but you didn't want to defy him. You had spent a lifetime going against your instincts protecting yourself, now it was time to trust for once. Steve was different, it was because he loved you to keep you safe, not use you.

He growled above you and you pressed back against him, feeling his hands wrap tightly around your hips and rock you back into position. “I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you.”

You clenched at his words, lifting your head enough to speak without being muffled in the bedding. “Fine Steve, I'm not going anywhere.” You felt yourself finally give into him, not because you couldn't break that bond, but you didn't want to. It ached too much to defy him when it meant so much to him even though it infuriated you to do so.

His hand circled to dip between your thighs, teasing between your folds as he bit your shoulder, holding you still with his other hand while thrusting his cock into your weeping entrance and spreading you open in a sharp sting that made you cry out sharply. His thrusts were quick and dominating, leaving you withering in his hold while fingers strummed your clit and his chest crushed against your back. Grunting growls and slapping skin filled the room, words becoming meaningless between you two.

It was such a primal moment, one complete with trust as neither of you could do anything but seek connection and pleasure from one another. You felt the rush of your orgasm wash over you, crying Steves name with tears in your eyes.

Steve wasn't ready to slow down, feeling you break apart under him just made him go faster, his hand covered in your arousal flushed up your body to fondle your breast, pulling at your nipple and squeezing while he pulled you both up to your knees. It just solidified for him that he needed you, just like this all for him. You arched before him, one hand reaching behind you to grasp the back of his neck, and the other covering his hand clasped over your chest. He still rutted into you, biting your shoulder enough to keep you still while he pounded himself into you.

For You, you had never felt him so entangled in you, holding you to him so that not only did you feel him physically, but mentally. Everything he felt, feared, and needed was just an overflow of information in your bond, and it took such complete control that rational thought was impossible. All you could respond to was the way he dragged out your moans and cries, his grunts into your skin as he slapped against your backside, and punched the air from your lungs when your next orgasm turned the edges of your vision black.

“Steve, I can't…” You begged and he groaned against your mark, his tongue sweeping over the sting of the bite he left, sure you were scented with him.

“You can Little One, I have you.” He assured you as his hard thrusts turned into heavy drags through your sensitive walls that were clenching and trying to hang onto him while he so easily pushed through you to bury to the hilt.

You pushed back into him when he ground into you, the two of you falling back so you were sprawled against his chest, his arm latching over your chest to keep you in place while his feet planted against the bed. Able to leverage himself into filling you so complete, your nails dug into his forearm stretched across you and tears streamed down your face. Your body felt wrung out, not able to give him that last one he wanted.

There was no denying in this moment no matter what way Steve took you, he was in control of you, and you were just able to hold on.

You felt his knot swell, stretching inside of you while he filled you with himself, warm against your aching channel, your body milked him, claiming every burst Steve gave with a growl of your own till it all stopped. Underneath you he calmed, his arm still heavy across your chest, but he was still except for heavy dragging breaths against your neck and your own pants as your head tipped back into his shoulder, staring upwards.

“I promise, I won't leave.”

“Good Girl.” He muttered, still hints of dominating presence in his tone, but it wasn't fear now, but acceptance. Steve managed to roll you onto the bed and his hands rubbed at your side to lull you into closing your eyes to relax in the aftermath. When he pulled out, you whimpered into the pillows, clenching your fingers into the fabric.

“Just rest… I will be back soon.” He nipped at your neck, with that he moved off the bed to grab at his clothing and get dressed while you curled up on the mattress. Your body was tired and is fogging your mind trying to pull you into sleep. The last thing you felt was the scrape of his beard against your cheek as he kissed your temple and left you, his boots heavy thuds down the stairs and the slam of the front door left you alone in the bedroom, slipping finally into a fitful sleep.

The Little Wolf whined loudly after a while, leaving it echoing through your body, distressed that the Alpha was going out on his own, leaving you locked here and had been angry at your defiance. It also effectively woke you back up after a quick nap.

He will be okay. You assured her as you stretched back to a stand and went down the stairs to look out the window, watching for Steve to come back. He must be following Bucky’s trail. What happened to them?

<Hydra… Didn’t you see the collar around Bucky's neck? He's being controlled. If he's being controlled Steve isn't safe going after him alone.> The Little Wolf paced back and forth, anxious with wanting to obey her Alphas command and going to help her Mate in his hunt.

Your fingers curled around the front doors handle a moment, the internal battle making your throat close and eyes well up as you turn away from the door. You would respect your Mates order, as much as it left you scared to do so.

Steve jogged in the forest following Bucky’s scent, quickly picking up the other members of his team as they all met back up at some point. There were also many other scents where other Wolves had passed through, probably in their bid to get away from his missing packmates. Steve pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha as he came stumbling out to a dirt road, and that's where the trail ended. Fresh tire wheels showing where a heavy vehicle sped off.

The ringing of the phone was soon cut with Natasha's voice. “Steve? What’s wrong, why are you calling so late?”

“Nat are you near Y/N’s old pack?” He questioned as he leaned down to look at the tire marks, looking for anything distinct to go on, but he was quick to straighten back up. They were long gone, with Caine he suspected. Just like the other attacks Steve had heard about. For some reason they were taking the packs Alphas.

“Not too far off, why? Where are You and Y/N?” Natasha asked then and Steve confirmed where they were. “I will be right there.”

“Just come right in, Bucky and everyone just hit this area, took off with Caine.”

“Are you guys okay?” Her first concern being for you and Steve.

“Were fine, Y/N is back at the cabin we were staying at and I followed Bucky’s trail to where it ended. They must be holed up somewhere nearby.”

After hanging up, Steve took one last look around the area, and then headed back towards the compound. It would be a bit until Natasha showed up, and he knew he would have to talk to you now that his temper had calmed somewhat.

That wasn't Bucky… or Clint, Wanda, Pietro… Steve thought, and the Alpha growled softly in agreement. They did something to them, controlling them.

Steve’s chest tightened, knowing exactly what the Alpha was talking about. Back in his days working with Howling Commandos they ran into a similar instance before. A group of renegade wolves making their way across Europe destroying not just other shifters, but humans as well in the most vicious way. They managed to disband most of them.

The one that got away, he was the only one to break the control Hydra had on him. Steve recalled.

It was something to consider Steve thought to himself as he made his way back to the cabin, easing the door open to the quiet of the cabin. The Alpha quieted in his mind as Steve let his senses open, feeling for you. He was quick to hear you shifting in the bed upstairs, rolling to your side and not actually getting any rest. An outward exhale of relief you were still safe escaped Steve as he started up the stairs.

You heard Steve come into the house and pushed to sit up when he appeared in the doorway, his eyes roving you up and down, making you feel a bit small after the earlier altercation. Your legs curled up under you at the edge of the mattress, your hands folding into your lap as your head tipped, a typical submissive pose for either your mate of Alpha. “Oh Little One…” Steve started as he came into the bedroom, moving to kneel before you on the floor, his hands sliding along your folded knees and easing up along your bare thighs. “I only did it because I had to.”

Your eyes lifted and a frown fluttered across your face.

“Had to? Steve I’m your mate and partner, you can't just keep me safe all the time.”

A soft growl rose up as he pressed his mouth to your knee, his eyes lifting with a tint of yellow in them, the Alpha so close to the surface while discussing your safety. “Can’t I? As your mate and Alpha, it's taking everything in me now not to bring you back home.” Your hands reached to cup his face, scraping slightly through his beard and spreading against his cheeks. A swipe of your thumb under his tired looking eyes.

“You know I wouldn’t go Steve.” You wrinkled your nose at him slightly and he shifted to nip the top of your thighs, you moved to unfold your legs and let them drape off the edge of the bed, your foot rubbing against Steve's ribs gently. “I can’t just leave them.”

“Still doesn’t change how I have the drive to keep you safe.” Another inhale against your thigh, light bite as Steve tasted you with a press of his tongue. “All I could think of is how I almost lost you with Pierce. Bucky is not Pierce, he's strong, more efficient, and dangerous because he’s being controlled.”

Your knees pressed against his sides and your hold tightened on his jawline to lift him from your lap so he would look at you. “And what about you Alpha? What do you think it does to me when you rush off into danger and I can't be there with you?” You felt Steve's fingers dig slightly into your hips while your words sunk in, the yellow tinge backing away as his Alpha retreated and the crystal blue sharpened. You knew it would pain Steve to think that he had caused you any distress. The Little Wolf whined, her ears flattening while seeing all this being processed.

Steve could feel the Alpha try to keep calm, respect the bond by waiting to be invited before going to his mate. Steve could imagine what you would feel being told to stay while he went into a dangerous situation.

He knew what it did to him, the bile of fear raising up in his throat once more, it wasn't something he was familiar with. Fear didn't live in Steve’s body, not till he had you, then suddenly he really did have something to fear, losing you for good. That all was sunk down deep into him from the first time, maybe he had a problem he never knew he had. That worried him to be so irrational, he couldn't let it control him, because it would just end up pushing you away.

Taking a dragging breath, he pushed up from where he was kneeling on the floor and sat next to you on the bed, you twisted to face him and crawl onto his lap till you were straddled, your arms around his neck, knowing that you had just ripped off a bandaid of sorts. “I’m sorry Little One, I put your safety first in my mind and nothing else. It will end up happening again.”

Your forehead tipped to lean against his, sighing softly as your fingers trailed down the back of his neck and back up.

“Steve, I'm not just your mate, I'm your partner. Where you go, I go to. You can't always keep me out of the way of what you deem dangerous.”

The silence stretched between you two, unable to give each other what the other wanted entirely here.

#attack of the winter wolf #alpha steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #white wolf #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the pack #amber writes #sweater writes #marvel au #shifter steve rogers #shifter bucky barnes #a/b/o

278 notes · View notes

viperbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

The Tie That Binds – [Five of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: I hope you enjoy!!!

<- Prev / Next ->

“What time is it there?”

“Same as New York, only it’s day time here.”

You hum softly and try to shuffle over onto your side, phone still pressed to your ear as you settle again. On the other end of the line, you can hear muffled street sounds, the hum of conversation in a language you don’t understand, and the occasional car horn. You remind yourself that Bucky hadn’t been gone all that long, barely three days now, and try not to feel foolish.

“Honey?” His voice is clear through the phone, like you could hear him for real in the room with you.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Was just moving.” You tell him. You can imagine him ducked into a nook of a brightly lit street, phone to his ear, his brow pinched in that worried way it often was.

“Is it helping?” He asks, but you let out a small sigh.

“No.”

Silence follows for a few seconds, and you listen closer to the sounds on the other end, trying to make a guess at where in the world he might be.

“I’m sorry, honey…” There’s more guilt in his voice than you like, and you can’t stop yourself from frowning deeply, despite the fact he can’t see you.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t just stop helping people because your girlfriend doesn’t like being alone…” You huff, rolling your eyes. You hear Bucky chuckle softly, and it makes your own lips quirk.

“I know, but I’m still sorry that you had a bad dream and that I’m not able to be there… I don’t like leaving anymore than you do.” He assures you, and you know he’s speaking the truth. Ever since your relationship had taken a turn for the romantic you’d been inseparable. Rarely did a day go by that you weren’t with one another, and contrary to what you might have thought before, being so used to your isolated existence, it didn’t feel suffocating.

Nothing felt as though it had changed all that much, it wasn’t as if the nature of your time together had really changed. You weren’t suddenly all over each other all the time, but there was a closeness, a tenderness now that underpinned everything.

You moved slow in some aspects, physicality mostly, and fast in others. Since Bucky had first kissed you over a month ago now, you’d started staying with one another through the night. You’d sleep beside one another, and truthfully, you hadn’t had such restful sleep since before HYDRA had kidnapped you. You’d been surprised when Bucky had told you of his initial hesitation, that he hadn’t wanted to wake you up with his own nightmares, but the nighttime company seemed to lend him a sense of calm as well.

Your stomach stirs at the thought of him not sleeping well while he was away either.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.” You assure him, pausing briefly before continuing.

“I just wanted to talk to you… hear your voice.” You confess, feeling rather silly, like a high schooler with a crush. Bucky hums down the line again, but this time, you imagine his sweet and bashful smile.

“I don’t think we’ll be here much longer, but just in case, why don’t you stay at mine until I get home?” He suggests. Bucky’s apartment was in a slightly nicer part of town, the building itself a little more secure and modern than yours.

You smile against the side of your phone, and nod.

“Okay. But you’ll try to let me know when you’re on your way home, right?” You both check and remind him, but you hardly need to. He meant it when he said he didn’t like going away as much as you didn’t.

“You’ll know the second I do, honey… If my phone still works.”

You chortle at the wince you hear in his voice, memories of a mission before last, when he’d used the device as parts in a makeshift bomb.

Reluctantly you bid goodnight, waiting until the very last second to hang up before you feel alone again in your far too empty bed. Unable to stare at the vacant spot next to you any longer, you decide to put Bucky’s advice into action sooner than the morning, gathering together a small bag of essentials before calling a ride service and making your way to Bucky’s apartment.

It’s still lonely without him, but between his sheets you’re able to slip back into sleep, dreaming of far more pleasant things this time.

---

Two days later you arrive home at Bucky’s apartment, cold, tired, and ready to crawl onto his couch and watch some mindless TV.

You’re still halfway through hanging up your coat and scarf when a noise makes you freeze. It was unidentifiable at first, just a sound that wasn’t supposed to be, but as you stop and listen closer, you can make out what you think is a very soft whisper, and some kind of scratching.

Your heartbeat hiccups, but it’s then, as you finish hanging your scarf on a hook, that you notice the dark black duffle bag kicked against the wall, right in front of your feet. This time your heart jumps for a different reason, and you swallow thickly.

“Bucky?!” You call out, hopeful and already moving quickly through the entryway.

“Living room!” His voice calls back, and you can’t help but smile widely as you step out of the hallway and spy the top of his head over the half wall that divided the kitchen and living space.

He’s sat on the floor, for some reason, between the couch and the TV, and at first you don’t think to question him, only freezing again when you move further into the home, and the whole scene is revealed to you fully.

“Hey baby,” Bucky beams at you, still in his uniform. You stare at him, mouth slightly ajar as you attempt to process what you were seeing.

“This is George.” He tells you, nodding down at the space between his crossed legs, where a seemingly very excited pitbull puppy struggles against Bucky’s arm to try and get to you. You blink at the dog, and then at Bucky, whose eyes have turned back to the dog as he softly calms him.

“Come and say hello before he wears a hole in me.” Bucky chortles, and you finally snap out of your surprise enough to inch closer to the pair, eventually kneeling down in front of them, and holding your hand out for the puppy to sniff.

“Hi George…!” You greet, unable to hold back a smile as the puppy immediately begins sniffing and licking your hand. You chuckle as you settle more comfortably on your knees, and lift both hands to give the dog some ear scratches.

“Why do you have a dog, Buck…?” You ask, laughter rolling over your words as the man releases his hold on the pup and lets him bound into your lap, where he promptly tries to climb you to lick your face.

“Woah now, Georgie, that’s my job…” Bucky teases, gently pulling the dog back just a little.

“He’s so happy!” You exclaim, shifting again so that you mirrored Bucky’s crossed-legs, and allowing George to settle between them, calming some as you pet behind his ears again.

“That’s just ‘cause I was tellin’ him all about you on the way home.” Bucky grins, leaning forward enough to press a brief kiss to your forehead in proper greeting. You shake your head and focus back on the puppy, running your finger from the tip of his nose to the top of his head.

“You gonna answer my question?” You prompt, and Bucky eyes you with a shrug.

“Saw a box of them on the street as Sam and I were getting ready to leave. He was the only one left.” He tells you with a little frown, watching George as the pup play with his hand. You get the feeling his story is heavily censored, if not wholly untrue, but you don’t ask.

You don’t want to know.

“So… you decided all of a sudden you were going to get a dog?” You prompt again, and his frown disappears as he fixes his gaze back on you.

“No, I decided to get a second.” He grins, only clarifying when you frown in confusion.

“… A second in command, I mean. Not a second dog.”

You still stare at him confused, though only a little less than before. It’s then that Bucky reaches out, scooping George up in his arms and holding him up to his chest like a baby.

“George is gonna keep you safe when I’m away,” Bucky explains, making your heart skip a beat.

“We’re gonna train him up real good, make sure he gets big and strong,” He looks up from the puppy then, and at you, his eyes softening.

“And maybe we can avoid more sleepless nights…”

You struggle to stop your lip from trembling at the sheer thoughtfulness of it all, but settle for shooting Bucky a watery smile before you lean in to brush your hand over George’s head lovingly.

“Thank you.” You say, leaning even further to press your lips to Bucky’s cheek. He smiles softly back at you as you pull away, and begin fussing with the puppy again.

“Why ‘George’?” You ask a small while later, finishing up a list you’d made of puppy things you had to buy, all the while Bucky played with your new little friend. He’d donated an old glove to the toy fund already, and you watch as the pair play a gentle game of tug-of-war.

“When I was a kid there was this local boxer, the best in Brooklyn, I reckon,” Bucky begins, but doesn’t look up from his game.

“They used to call him ‘The Pitbull’, but his real name was George.” He shrugs then, and throws you a small smile.

“Just thought it suited.”

---

The morning breeze whips against your cheeks, the tip of your nose bearing the brunt as well. It had been a while since you’d not only been awake so early, but ready and willing to leave the house too.

You had a good reason though, a reason you follow closely with your eyes as he darts across the dewy-wet grass, kicking up flecks of dirt as he goes, and you remind yourself you’ll need to give his feet a wipe down before you let him back into the apartment. The pitbull pup had filled out over the past three months, though he’d still get bigger the vet had told you. His grey-black coat had turned more grey than black, and his floppy little ears had become a little less floppy as he’d grown into them.

You grin as you watch Bucky play with him, running back and forth across a small area of the dog park, a large rope toy in his hand. Every so often he stops to let Georgie catch up to him, wrestling the toy from him, and then the chase swaps.

It was so nice to see Bucky completely and unabashedly carefree. Even before Georgie came along, as you’d settled into your relationship, you’d still catch him with a sad look on his face every so often. You would both speak candidly about your pasts, and no matter how your relationship had developed, neither of you would ever be able to change what had happened.

You still wondered if being with Bucky was the right thing. Choice or not, the universe had already dictated his soulmate, and someday that fact would rear its head again. You mostly tried to ignore it, to relish in what you had while you had it, but there was a part of you that knew deep down, it wasn’t forever.

“Brave choice,” A voice speaks up from nearby you, and you turn to find a woman around your age, her own dog sat patiently by her feet. She tosses a brightly coloured ball, and the dog takes off after it.

“Excuse me?” you ask, and the woman focuses back on you. She nods in the direction of Georgie and Bucky, with a not-unfriendly smile.

“A pitbull. It’s a brave choice you know. Lotta work.”

You can tell she wasn’t trying to be rude or condescending, but her opinions rub you the wrong way despite that.

“Not really,” you reply with a tight smile and a shrug.

“Just like any dog. You have to put in the work to get the results.”

“But Pitbulls are naturally more dangerous. That’s just a fact.” The woman’s dog returns to her, dropping the ball which she then tosses again.

“I disagree,” you try to refrain from displaying your own ‘natural’ danger, but your voice still holds a sharpness.

“It’s their environment that determines that.”

The woman hums in a decidedly condescending way.

You’re glad that she decides to run after her dog a fews seconds later, ending the short, but annoying conversation.

You look back at your two boys, your stomach churning, though you aren’t really sure why. Newly being a pitbull owner, you’d seen and heard plenty of shitty opinions online and in person during your research and finding a puppy-preschool course. None of these had really bothered you that much before, you’d usually just dismiss the arguments. Now though, you feel properly upset in a way that makes your hands shake, your coffee wobbling precariously in the cup you hold.

You aren’t even aware that you’re frowning deeply until Bucky pauses, sitting on the grass with Georgie draped over his legs, both seemingly out of breath. He looks around before he spots you, his smile dropping a few seconds later when he spies your sour expression. You look away briefly, trying to rid it from your features, but it’s too late.

Bucky scoops Georgie up, the puppy happy to be held, and collects the rope toy before he begins making his way back to you, concern creasing his brow. You greet you dog first when he’s close, cupping his face and scratching behind his ears, but it’s only a thinly veiled tactic not to look at your boyfriend. It fails anyway, as he sweeps down to peck your lips chastly.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, kneeling down to place Georgie back on the ground, and connecting his lead back to his collar again.

“Nothing,” you lie, receiving a frown in response.

“Really, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.” you brush it off more convincingly this time, and tuck yourself into Bucky’s side as you begin walking. He seems to accept this with a flat hum, but wraps his free arm around your back and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

You walk home sharing quiet conversation, and Bucky seemingly forgets about your glare and change in mood at the park, but you don’t.

It stays with you over the next couple of days, an unsettling and building upset. You aren’t sure if it makes you angry, or sad, or guilty even. It just makes you feel bad, and every time your mind is brought back to it, the weight of the emotions hit you heavily.

You’re standing at your stove, stirring the pasta sauce for dinner when it happens again. Bucky had gone to clean up some time ago, but last you’d checked he’d been lounging on your bed, Georgie cuddled up with him.

It was wrong for people to assume off the bat that your beautiful little puppy was somehow inherently worse, more aggressive or dangerous than other dogs. He’d never hurt a fly, and as long as he was brought up well and lived in a loving household, there was no reason that would suddenly change.

Pitbulls who were abused, or existed in places where aggression was rewarded and therefore exhibiting dangerous behaviours were made that way by human involvement, not by nature. Even then, the amount of stories of rehabilitated rescue pitbulls were more than abundant!

It hits you then, like a sack of bricks.

Bucky was the pitbull.

Not literally, of course, the woman had been explicitly referring to your dog, but internally, your anger and sadness and guilt had been about something else entirely.

It makes you feel even worse all of a sudden, because it wasn’t as if you hadn’t known this. You knew Bucky’s prior life and behaviour was entirely not of his own choosing, you know that HYDRA had forged him into what he’d been, and that with his freedom he’d chosen to change, to do and be better. To make amends.

You knew this, so why did this stupid anaology hit you so differently?

Your initial reaction to Bucky showing up again in your life wasn’t unfounded, you know you shouldn’t feel guilty about that. So where did the guilt come from? Was it only because now you knew him? Because of how things had changed and what you’d become to one another?

No, you realise, again rather suddenly, a second sack of bricks.

With Georgie around now, you got to see Bucky interacting with somebody else he adored, and the differences were stark. With Georgie, he wasn’t hesitance, there was no sense of cautiousness or reproach, but with you, there was.

Bucky was always so careful with you, always soft and gentle and aware. As if he himself wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t afraid.

You swallow thickly and shakily move to turn off the stove.

He almost never touched you with his left hand, if he could help it. The physicality between the two of you only extended to the occasional kiss and the closeness you’d share when you slept most nights. He never pressed beyond that, and while that was fine with you, you see it now in a different light. You don’t want to be in a relationship where one of you always felt like you were penitent.

You wonder if he thinks he doesn’t deserve more.

Slowly your feet carry you towards your bedroom, where you stop in the doorway to take in your view.

Bucky lay against your pillows, one arm tucked behind his head, and the other resting gently on Georgie’s, softly petting. The pup perks when he hears you though, sitting up and drawing Bucky’s attention too, before he gets up altogether and darts towards you.

“Probably thinks it’s dinner time.” Bucky remarks, and you shoot him a small smile, nodding.

“I’ll do it.” You tell him quietly. You quickly go about feeding your puppy, deciding it would be better to have him aside for the time being.

When you return, Bucky is sat up more, his phone in his hand, but he shuts it off and sets it aside when you enter the room. You aren’t sure how to say what you want to say, or even if Bucky would be honest in hearing it.

You don’t say anything as you join him on your bed, quickly curling up into his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, and you realise he hadn’t forgotten about the day at the dog park. You draw yourself even closer, hiding your face in his shoulder as he shuffles so that he can wrap you up with both arms.

“You still feel guilty,” You murmur, unsure of if that will even make sense, but you don’t know how else to order your thoughts. Bucky pauses, and in your mind you can picture his brow furrowing and his lips turning down in the corners.

“Of course I do,” he says then, and you’re both a little surprised and relieved that you don’t have to explain yourself further.

Lifting your head, you find him staring up at the ceiling, though his eyes turn to you when you raise a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

“I really don’t want you to,” you tell him, earning you a small smile.

“I don’t think it works like that,” Bucky says, shifting again so that he can face you better.

“It does a little bit… if you think I’m still…” You fetter off, unsure of the word.

“Afraid?” Bucky supplies, and his choice of word confirms your suspicions.

“Buck… if I were even a little bit afraid, you wouldn’t be here right now,” You tell him firmly, needing him to hear you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come back to my home, or invited you inside. Trust me.”

His eyes dart away from yours, and he purses his lips.

“I don’t ever want to hurt you again,” Bucky’s voice is quiet, and you’re glad at least that he was engaging with you.

“I get it,” you tell him.

“But this isn’t going to work if you can’t trust me when I tell you something… and vice versa.”

His eyes snap to yours, and his frown deepens. You see a flash of worry in his eyes.

“If you’re always feeling like you’re walking on glass or that you need to tread carefully, that’s not really respecting my decision to be with you,” you say slowly. Bucky’s frown deepens again, and he swallows, but he nods hesitantly.

“I– I’m not saying that either of us can just forget– but at some point we have to forgive, right?”

Bucky stares at you for a moment, but slowly you see his frown lessen, and he nods again.

“I–” he cuts himself off and clears his throat.

“I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head.

“It’s okay. I understand… but Buck, you don’t have to make amends with me anymore,”

Bucky blinks, his face morphing into confusion.

“The past ten years I spent thinking I was gonna die alone, at least now I’ve got a fifty-fifty either way,” you play it off as a joke, and Bucky chortles, but he sobers quickly too, frown reappearing briefly as he cups your cheek.

“That’s a hard thing for me to come to terms with, honey… I don’t know if I’ll ever feel as though I can make up for everything. Not in a way that feels like it’s enough.” His thumb swipes gently back and forth over your cheek, and truly, you haven’t felt so safe or cherished in your entire life.

“Just start thinking about it. If it’s something you’ve never considered before, of course it’s hard to come to terms with.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips, intending to be chaste, but his hand at your cheek holds you there, and even now your heart flutters. He kisses you no more passionately than usual, but there’s a depth to it now that makes it feel brand new. It fetters off sweetly into shorter kisses, until he pecks you once more finally on the lips, before tugging you closer and kissing the top of your head.

“You may also need to come to terms with the fact I burnt dinner…” you scrunch up your nose as you admit the failure sitting on the stove, and Bucky’s whole body shakes as he laughs. He kisses your head again before his arms tighten around you.

“That ones a little bit easier, honey.”

If you like or enjoy, a comment or reblog is always highly appreciated! Thank you for reading!!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes/you

138 notes · View notes