#at least the pebbles one lol. I did that one first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taelophone · 20 days ago

Text

Malevolence ⋆˙⟡ — Academic Rival!Luigi Mangione x Reader CWs: Slight narcissism . Mean Luigi (what did u expect) . He Makes You Cry . Identity Issues . Feelings Denial . Masturbation (Luigi) . Jealousy . Pebbling (literally lol) . Apology Sex . Oral (F receiving) . NOT PROOFREAD!! ⟡ — Reader is hinted Mid-Western cuz I thought it was funny lol. It’s NOT major tho + a cliffhanger cuz for some reason nobody wanted to wait n just wanted to blow my inbox up about this fic. Suffer.

Luigi had always been hailed as a smart boy. From the time he was born to when he opened his mouth, complexities and conundrums rolled off of his tongue that would leave the oldest and wisest of men in a marveled stupor.

He was used to having eyes on him at all times, and admittedly, it almost grew too much to handle at such a young age. However, after a couple of years of balancing paranoia and self-righteousness, Luigi had grown to adore the affections that seemed to shower him from all angles.

He was smart, incredibly talented, had both feet firm on his moral sands, and was at least somewhat attractive. What more could a man ask for?

He carried through his adolescence with the world nestled gently on his shoulders. The threat of faltering or underperforming wasn’t a possibility for him. He was better than that.

So when he got accepted into an Ivy League, he felt like he was on top of the world. No object stood between him and greatness, and if there were, he would conquer it like he had hundreds of times before.

On his first day of college, he wiggled through orientation with a relatively quiet presence. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, letting himself get a feel for his environment and how to acclimate before plunging himself in headfirst.

However, one of the people his eyes seemed to pull to the most was you.

Whispers and remarks whisked around him, flicking drops of color and light over your shadowed character. Valedictorian…pretty…community service warrior…and a STEM major from somewhere in the States that he had been ignorant of in his prior years.

Love and hate are two sides of the same kind. Both require one to feel so deeply for the other, and it drives them mad and in anguish. For a man as intelligent as Luigi, it seems he wasn’t aware of this common concept.

He had never even properly interacted with the poor young woman, yet the years of evolution sent bells ringing in his mind that categorized you as a threat. The empire he had spent so much time building to better himself as a man— for the sake of other people, threatened to capsize with the introduction of a new apex predator.

You didn’t do anything. He didn’t even know you yet, and he was never one to believe mindless rumors or unconfirmed information. But alas, man is still man when placed in a foreign environment.

Ever since orientation day, he’s kept a close eye on you. He wasn’t ready to relinquish his title of valedictorian, especially not to some random Midwest malevolence that posed a threat to his persona’s integrity.

One thing Luigi loved about the grand and precise creation of man was the mind; what does it take to make it tick and writhe in shame? What can you do to influence the brain to tear itself apart until it reduces itself to its simplest biological form— vulnerable prey.

Well, there are many ways. Depravation, intimidation, ostracization, or simple bullying.

Luigi was never a bully, no, that’s too far. What Luigi really was, however, was wholly mad and half obsessed with the woman who sat two rows in front of him with a pen in her hand and a pink journal next to her arm.

Ostracization it is!

When you first spoke to Luigi, things seemed pretty…interesting. It was the day before midterms, a little later into October, and you were cooped up in the library with a large cup of liquid energy and a near-overheated computer.

Papers surrounded you in a way that would seem near manic to passersby, watching yet another engineer go mad with determination and get high off stress. You were so immersed in your work, the multi-colored highlighters gliding across the dry paper as you recited different codes in your mind and punched them into your computer, that you neglected to hear the footsteps that had stopped at the end of your table.

“Oh…you look…tense,” he smiled, his brows furrowing with mild concern. “You sure you got this, girl?”

You paused, gazing at him with what could only be described as disheveled innocence.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Luigi,” He added, giving you a small smile as he sipped the coffee—…no, tea, in his cardboard cup of mystery.

You nodded, giving him your name in response with a half-there smile. You weren’t trying to be rude, but the near weeks of study and lack of sleep were starting to eat away at the back of your brain and left you feeling a little more vulnerable than you’d care to admit in front of a six-foot man.

“Yeah I’m…fine, sorry, just cramming,” you sighed, your hands resting on your head after you dropped your little pen.

“Oooh,” he whistled, sucking in a shallow breath through his clenched teeth. “That’s not good. Are you sure you’re meant to be in computer science?” He chuckled, boyish and unserious.

Crackle…Crack…KSSSHHKH.

You chuckled, breathy and shallow as your brows pinched together a little at the subtle audacity behind his joke.

“Haha…ha, no, yeah I’m right where I wanna be. It's stressful but I’ve loved it ever since I was in middle school,” you nodded with a polite smile.

Well played, girl!

He nodded, the bone of his jaw locking up a bit more as he fought to keep the smile on his face.

“Oh…that’s cute, yeah!” He beamed, readjusting his black-and-silver browline glasses that began to slip down the bridge of his nose. “Well…good luck!” He nodded before he slinked away almost as quietly as he had arrived.

Cute…? What’s so cute about my interest? Has he been involved in robotics and computer science longer than me? What does cute even mean…

You sighed, the slight feeling of insecurity and confusion creeping up through your spine and drowning your head in the murky black sludge of inferiority that infiltrated your mind. What a fucking condescending man.

Actually, I was gonna pack up and leave, but now I’m mad.

Pity the disease that plagues the mad scientist. For she has naught the skill or composure to stop the self-made machine that drives her into Abaddon.

Wholly mad and half-obsessed, you were now just as focused on Luigi as he was on you. Eager to prove him wrong— hungry for an outlet to be just as abrasive and patronizing to him as he was to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe he genuinely thought your life-long interest in engineering and science was cute! Whatever that means.

But his strange and slightly infuriating comments became a habit of his. Every time you had a conversation with him, he made a little vague comment that left you feeling more slighted than before. Hidden under the guise of elderly concern, his viperous venom of hatred poured from his mouth like a child who couldn’t stand the taste of his food.

Everyone seemed to love Luigi, though… Whenever he came up in a conversation, at least one woman in the room proclaimed her platonic—or intimate—love for the nerd. He was so kind and reassuring, the kind of man who can only be born from a lifetime of gentle love and firm parenting to keep him on the right path.

But little old you never got any of that. He was always so surface-level, slightly cold, and maybe even aggravating– but nothing could have prepared you for when you finally began to get grades and mid-terms back.

A ninety-six.

You were ready to jump and shout with joy, do laps around the whole building, or maybe even praise the god that sat upstairs that willed your success into existence. Unbridled joy poured through your eyes as you nearly passed out from relief, much to the dismay of someone nearby.

Something about how your eyes twinkled like stars, the wet salt pooling at your waterline glossing them over like a beautiful orb of light. It made his stomach jump and twitch with…irritance.

Did you think you were better than him? He’s supposed to be the gold standard, not you! But that’s okay, but he got a ninety-eight on his exam and knew just how to knock the wind out of you.

Just as silent as last time, he approached with a slightly confused look on his face.

“What did you get for forty-seven?” He asked, folding over the packet of paper to reveal the only question he got wrong.

“Oh wow, you’re…really good,” you murmured, scanning over the big red number on the back of his paper.

“Oh, thank you! I think the class average was like ninety-eight or ninety-nine. I need to study more, really…” He fibbed, the little white lie falling over his words and casting a spell of superiority over you.

You instantly stopped smiling, the joy you once had flickering away drastically. You had always considered yourself a good student, but why now were you underperforming?

“Oh, I guess I’ll just have to study more and beat you,” you joked, the weight of your words dying on your tongue as you attempted to placate the rage that ran rampant in your mind. It wasn’t a joke, you were one hundred percent serious, and you hoped deep down that he knew that.

Here you were, performing at below-average levels and celebrating it like some sort of fool with her red nose and fiery hair. Luigi had made as many comments as he could over three months, now all that had burned from the embers and ash of your strained relationship was unspoken rivalry and hatred.

Rather than trying to find the root of Luigi’s strange animosity toward you, you matched his academic attitude. Sometimes, you even spent full days hunched over your desk in your dorm rapidly correcting and tweaking code in Hello World to organize and understand each command and its result.

Coffee, eyebags, pain, tears, and suffering were poured into your day-to-day life. Many philosophers claim women's strongest motivation is love and determination; In your case, Gandhi had never been more wrong.

No, what propelled you forward in your academic prowess was nothing short of abhorrence and resentment. The bitter citric acid of his words burned the tip of your tongue, the thoughts that had once flowed so easily from off of the wet muscle stumbling and pausing from the sheer weight of his vitriol.

And the worst part of it was, you were all alone in this feeling. There was nobody else who seemed to believe or have witnessed these small moments of malice.

Lashing out and crying was never an option. You were grown now, according to American law, and your days of crying because someone was even slightly mean were over. That wouldn’t do you any good, and why bitch and moan when you can just violently better yourself?

You buried yourself so deep in your work, immersed in the realm of source code and computing. In the rare moments where you managed to break free from your computer, your surroundings morphed into strings of code…you even found yourself trying to type the language into the ATM at Chipotle just off campus.

Your brain was so wrinkled it rivaled a dried grape, your eyes nearly crossing over from how hard you had pushed yourself the entire semester. Academic weapon was a criminal understatement— you were more like a philosophical firearm.

What you felt was your only outlet for coping with your classmates' puzzling animosity towards you wasn’t necessarily hurting you, after all, it was making you smarter! Unbeknownst to you, some eyes began to catch on to the subtle charge between the pair of you.

Both your professors and peers alike had noticed the rising tension. When one outperformed the other, suddenly all the other party could do was study until they threw up. In fact, your roommate had dragged you from your desk about twenty times in the past month so you wouldn’t deprive your body of sunlight and nutrition.

“What’s been going on with you and Luigi?” Ruby asked, attacking her pizza with the gentle bite of an untamed puppy.

“Who? Oh, Luigi?” You murmured, tearing your gaze away from your computer.

You didn’t look terrible, but you certainly didn’t look put together. Your hair was a frizzy mess, your eyes had grown accustomed to their lack of sleep, and your sweatpants were low enough on your hips that you were sure there would be a problem if they weren’t your size.

“He’s just… passive-aggressive, and it pisses me the fuck off. I feel like he’s just putting me down constantly and being so fucking nitpicky…” you sighed, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned back in your chair.

“Really?” She murmured, her face fixing into a look of disbelief as she bit into an overly salted French fry.

“And that’s the fucking problem! Nobody sees it but me and it’s driving me up a fucking WALL!” You groaned, your hands running over your face and pulling down your bottom eyelids and lashes in their trail.

“Well…he’s like, really really nice to literally everyone. I’ve never seen him not being of use to someone,” she explained, a pitying expression on her face as she mirrored your stance, crossing her arms and throwing her ankle over her knee. “Why’s he doing that to you, then?”

“I don’t know! He’s been like…on my dick since orientation,” you sighed. “Is it obvious that we don’t like each other?”

“I mean, dental knows, so…yeah,” she nodded. “It’s actually a very known fact…but everyone’s confused because both of you are like, really nice and you’re literally so alike, so.”

“Oh wow…” you hummed.

“Yeah…well good luck with that, girlie, but stop locking yourself in the dorm that shit is not healthy. Take a break, you need it…like really fucking bad,” She smiled, reaching over to hold your hand with contrastingly gentle affection.

“If I take a break that fucker will catch up to me…I need to stay on his neck until I die,” you rasped, a deep sigh emptying from your lungs before you stood up to leave for your dorm.

It just wasn’t fair. Your entire college experience seemed to be going wrong from the very beginning all because some stupid future frat boy decided he wanted to make your life difficult.

Hate was a strong word, and rivalry was another, but you felt very strongly about Luigi. He did too, but unfortunately for him, not in the way he thinks he does.

He was unsure at first, the hornets and sickness that stung and bruised his stomach when he laid eyes on you served as his first warning. Then, it was the agonizing heart palpitations that came from seeing you pay attention to him.

He wanted your eyes on him and him only; your beady black pupils to burn searing hot holes into his own. He wanted the fiery red embers of the flame he had cast upon you to open up and swallow him whole, condemning him for the plague of madness he had released upon your soul.

You made him so mad, so bitter and disgusted, so hot with envy that he wanted nothing more in the world than to just see you crumble beneath his hands in a fit of…tears. And so what, maybe it does stem from a place of insecurity, but he was grown enough to admit that he was the only perfect specimen!

Fire cannibalized his body from head to toe, burning and blazing the expanse of his skin, rivaling the scorching hot droplets of water that dribbled down his shoulders in the foggy shower. He hated you more than he had ever felt for anything before, but he couldn’t explain for the life of him why.

He had seen you stalk the streets of Penn’s campus in the passing weeks, and you looked more exhausted than you did anything else. Still, he wasn’t able to pull his attention off of you.

He had chalked it up to envy, green and scaled with fanged fury that bit him at the neck and fueled him full of venom, but he wasn’t able to deny the bubbly side effects of the initial bite that kept his heart a little fast. Or maybe he did, and he just refused to acknowledge it.

Regardless, he hated you. Your stupid small hands, your dumb gorgeous hair that you barely even changed anymore, your stupid fashion sense that was oh-so-true to your character…oh god—

Hatred is a strong force, but pleasure is another. He would never speak of what happened in the shower, but he’d bear the burden of his sin as soon as he finished.

When spring rolled around, her trail of warmth melted the icy roads and awakened the creepy crawlers from their deep slumber. Spring was a time for flowers to bloom and praises to be sung— and more importantly, break was just three months around the corner.

As you made your way into the levine hall for what felt like the millionth time this month, you were nowhere near surprised to see your professor absent with instructions displayed on the large projector board. Class project; develop a tool to identify potential vulnerabilities in computer networks. Due in two months. You will split up into the following groups.

Nikoletta Wiley

Hayden Stein

Rico O’Brien…

Luigi Mangione…

You.

Your fight-or-flight senses lurched in alarm, alarms and screams of rage echoing in your head as a deep and slow breath filed out from your lungs like a hasty bullet flying from its chamber. You could be cordial…you could be calm, you could be tame.

Could Luigi? You’d come to learn if that was the case soon enough.

You dispersed from the front of the room to go find each member of your group, starting with Rico and ending with Nikoletta. Finding Luigi was simple, you just didn’t wanna talk to him right now.

“Yeah I’ll make, like, a group chat and then we can talk about everything there,” Nikki beamed, you all standing huddled together with your phones out while quickly punching in each other’s numbers.

It seemed everyone already had Luigi’s and didn't need to retrieve it from him, but Hayden still beckoned him over so you could fill in all the details and plan as a team. As soon as you felt him join, the energy seemed to shift as three sets of eyes burned searing holes into you and Luigi’s heads.

“How do we wanna do this then? Like, what program are we using? Cuz Billards has been using VS, but we can use Sublime, too, I think…did he say what we had to use, actually?” Hayden asked, peering over at the board once more to double-check the requirements.

“No, I think we should just—“ you began, powering your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket.

“Nah, we should just use VS. I think it’s the easiest, plus it’ll be much easier for some people.” Luigi smiled, completely ignoring the fact that he just spoke over you in favor of observing the nods from everyone else.

“I wasn’t finished, but sure, Luigi, we can use VS. It’ll be much easier for you, don’t worry,” you nodded with a contrastingly kind smile.

“I was thinking that it would definitely help you out more, but thank you for the advice,” he nodded with a smile just as kind as yours.

You chuckled, straining against the will of goddesses to not lash out at him in the middle of the lab. The icy exterior that coated his words disguised as warm concern had hit you just as hard as he intended them to, and it was even worse considering you were in front of all of your partners.

“No, I’m actually extremely talented with VS right now! I’ve been coding apps in my free time. I even have an app that lets you track your finances and predict stock market changes…I think I’m fine. What have you made this month?” You smiled, your eyes intensely focused on his as your chest subconsciously puffed out a little bit more.

For the first time in a little while, Luigi became slightly intimidated by you. He hadn’t done anything this month, and it was a grave error that would follow him to his grave and fatal embarrassment.

“I’m not working on any projects right now, actually…I heard you haven’t stopped working, though. That’s not good, maybe get some rest. You look like you need it…” he hummed, watching as your partners wordlessly exchanged slightly panicked glances.

“Guys, I think we should just use VS…” Nikki interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

The rest of the group nodded, adjusting their bags on their shoulders in an effort to self-soothe before Rico spoke up. “Yeah, it’s no problem…we can work on VS, and then we can all code together and fix any bugs we find in the process.”

Everything was over just as quickly as it began following Nikoletta’s excellent timed bucket to the budding forest fire. With that out of the way, you began to file out of the room to carry out your separate strings of life.

You’d reunite later at around seven at night via a discord call that featured nothing but silly side chatter and furious typing in a shared file. It was much too serious to your grades if you decided to start throwing jabs at each other— but whenever you or Luigi made even the smallest mistake, like missing a semicolon or even a typing error, your cursor would immediately fix the problem with the most passive-aggressive speed possible.

“That’s wrong…” Luigi murmured, his brows raising and dropping with haste as he highlighted a whole section of your code.

“No, it’s not…are you sure you’ve been coding recently? This is perfectly fine,” you sighed, glaring at your monitor’s camera briefly just to catch the eyes of a very irritated Mangione.

“Yes, all my life, actually! That’s wrong. When you put this in, it’s not gonna do anything, because you’re missing a bracket, and that’s the wrong function…I think you should drop this course,” he chuckled, shaking his head like you were being ridiculously stupid before rewriting your code for you.

He took immense and almost sickly sadistic pleasure in seeing your face scrunch a little and your brows pinch together. He was right under your skin, nestled between your nerves and kicking his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum on the ground.

Good. Just like how he wants you to feel.

“I think you should shut the fuck up and stop being a dickhead…” you murmured, your hands now completely off your keyboard.

“I think we should all take a break!” Hayden beamed, immediately leaving the call after waving with a bright smile on his face.

“Yeah, he’s probably right…it’s like, one in the morning, and we have class tomorrow. I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Nikki yawned, exiting the call as well and shortly followed by a very laggy and loud goodbye from Rico, leaving you and Luigi alone in the files.

“No, like, actually, what the fuck is your problem? You’ve been on my dick since before we even met?” You groaned, saving all changes in the file so nothing would mysteriously delete itself later.

“You’re slowing us down! Like, everyone knows you’re not the smartest in this class! Some of us worked hard to be here, and if you’re just gonna fuck around—“ he began, leaning back in his all-black gamer chair and running his hands down his face, the expanse of his neck on full display.

“First of all, we never even had a proper conversation. I am trying my best! If you feel like I’m such a burden, then join another fucking group!” You huffed, throwing your arms out to the side in defense. “You literally gave me shit the first day we met, and all you fucking do, is belittle me, and—…and make me feel like I’m not good enough…”

Your voice wobbled, its usual sturdy and focused tone lacking its regular discipline as you came completely apart in your dorm room. How fucking embarrassing…

“And I’ve felt like shit, and I haven’t been getting proper sleep, and fuck you! You’re so nice to everyone but me! Literally, what did I do to deserve this?” You warbled, rubbing your waterline with the knuckles on your pointer finger.

It was like you couldn’t get it to stop. He had popped the cork, and now all the bottled-up insecurity and sleep deprivation came pouring out like shower water, and he had no idea how the dial worked.

In that moment, the weight of his actions finally hit him. The woman on the other side of the screen was in tears, all because he didn’t know how to cope with the fact that there were other smart people in his environment.

Poor, sweet thing…a lamb too close to the frenzied blade of the executioner, forever stuck with the inner turmoil that stems from unrest. Maybe if he indulged the flames, jostling the hot coal with his bare hands and made amends before your altar he’d no longer be bound to the eternal suffering from the merciless and bloodied hands of Aphrodite.

He didn’t mean for it to get this far. After seeing your tired and shaky form sob and whine on screen, he suddenly didn’t have the same drive to compete anymore.

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin— and Luigi now understood that he was never really threatened by you in the first place he was heads over tails in love with you. Even though he didn’t want to admit it and wasn’t going to admit it, Luigi understood the consequences of being a jackass after the smoke from the machine cleared.

“I’m not doing this, no,” you sighed, ending the call immediately and ejecting Luigi from the file.

Ouch.

Following the storm of emotions that raged between the both of you, the heavy silence of guilt filled his dorm room.

“Dude, you’re a fuckin’ dick…” Luigi’s roommate, Logan, murmured from his half-conscious slumber in his bed.

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, his hands carding through his hair as he took a deep breath.

In with renewal and purity, out with grudge and taint. This was going to be the longest, most shameful two months of his life.

And long was an understatement— the painful stretch from early February to late March was just as terrible as he imagined. Now you wouldn’t talk to him, or even give him a second glance when your group congregated to work on your project.

By now it was well within its development, and the app was able to identify potential security threats and offer solutions to whoever wanted to keep their information within a concentrated network. As much as it pained his ego to say it, the constant studying he had forced you into paid off entirely.

After he had corrected your code once, he was never able to do it again. There were no more passive-aggressive changes, no silly side conversations, and much less any interaction outside of your group.

You made yourself completely unavailable to him, even going as far as moving farther away from him when it was a lecture day. You had no reason to cross paths, and that’s exactly how you wanted it.

So you can imagine your surprise when you holed yourself up in a corner, typing away like normal before you heard the familiar foot pattern of a certain Italian man approaching. You stilled the anger and hurt bubbling over in the glass pot that certainly wasn’t meant to be on the stove.

“What,” you stated, not tearing your eyes away from your work.

“I just wanted to say that I’m…really sorry for how I treated you earlier. I had a lot going on that I’m still trying to address, and it was really…really wrong of me. If I’m being honest your grades are probably better than mine, and I just felt threatened by your intelligence,” he explained, holding a little blueberry muffin and a baby-blue crystal as a peace offering that he slowly slid toward you.

“My roommate told me girls like crystals…this is untumbled blue topaz…” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact by all means necessary before he pulled out an extremely large chunk of what you recognized as Rose quartz from his little tan canvas bag. “I picked out this one cuz I didn’t know if you liked blue topaz.”

You stared in disbelief, the casual implication of the crystals he gave you was enough to almost make you laugh, considering he gave you the stone that’s symbolic of uncovering lies and the stone of love. How fitting.

“How much was that…?” You asked, sizing up the fat pillar of pink that surpassed the circumference of your hand. “You’ve been carrying that all day?”

He nodded, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he found himself suddenly interested in the window next to you. He felt like you were prying him apart for the first time, and he didn’t like it…it felt like losing his virginity somehow.

“It was a hundred dollars…” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as a hand came to the back of his neck.

“A hundred dollars!?” You repeated, your brows pinching together as you stared at the madman in front of you.

He nodded again, this time a small ghost of a smile pulled at the ends of his lips as the steady red began to creep up to his nose.

“I didn’t really know what else to get you…I don’t know you that well” He blushed, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Oh…uhm…thank you?” You murmured, more of a skeptical question than genuine gratitude. After almost six months of torment and competition, you weren’t entirely ready to forgive or forget. “I don’t really know what to say.”

You stared at the cute little offerings, pondering if his apology was genuine…he seemed slightly on edge. After all, he was rocking back and forth on the tips of his toes, his teeth nervously chewed on his bottom lip, and if his face was any redder he’d be competing with many women’s blush routines.

“I accept your apology, but I don't forgive you. That was really cruel, Luigi. Like, we literally could’ve been best friends. But thank you, for the things,” you nodded, watching as he mirrored your nod as well.

“Yeah, I get that, and I’m just really sorry…you don’t have to forgive me, I know that trust comes with time,” he nodded, giving you a rather cute awkward smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow..? I think?” He added, tilting his head to the side in thought.

“Sure…I’ll see you” you nodded.

And just like that, he was off again.

Now that he wasn’t spitting hatred and torment at you, you were able to conceptualize just how attractive he was…his chiseled nose, sharp jaw, and gorgeously high cheekbones added a blow tint of masculinity to his boyish face. Both adorable and sexy— a rare combination that was scarce these days.

Now that you were prepared to deal with him again, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him if he spoke to you. Usually, when he did, you’d end up having short conversations about code or crystals, a small spark of a bond being built from the debris of the fire that had scorned the two of you before.

You came to learn that he was a kind man with a special interest in Pokémon, and he had recently rushed into the “virginity rocks” frat of Penn, Phi Kappa Psi. It seemed fitting, besides the fact that he began to grow into somewhat burlier as he spent more time in the gym.

Now you were in the lab after hours, helping Nikki wrap up with a little robot designed to detect and pick up trash in a small environment. Somewhere in the distance, you saw Luigi tinkering with the 3D printer, printing out pieces for his plans and mini Pokémon in between.

“Alright, I’m gonna go home…I’m hungry as shit and my man is probably stuck in his dorm alone right now,” Nikki sighed, packing her bag and reorganizing her station before giving you a tight squeeze and a wave.

The wind whistled against the windows, rattling every loose pane of glass as the gentle pitter-patter of rain pressed against the casements while you scrolled on your phone absentmindedly. That was until Luigi approached you with a mini-printed figure of Jigglypuff and a stupid smile.

“I made this in like…four hours,” he chuckled, placing the pink figurine on your table for you to inspect.

“Oh, that’s so cute…” you murmured, pinching it between your finger and thumb and running your eyes over the little details printed on its plastic. “Where are you gonna put it? Your shelf?”

“Nah, I was gonna just give it to you. My shelf is literally so full,” he smirked, watching as you rolled the pink Pokemon between your fingers.

“If only you had a desk,” you sighed, a sarcastic but amused smile creeping up on your face against your will.

“If only there were a pretty woman to alleviate me of my creative burden…” he sighed, pretending to be a woman in distress clutching her imaginary pearls with a limp wrist on her forehead.

“Pretty?” You hummed, tucking the cute figure in the shallow back pocket of your high-rise denim.

“Is complimenting you off limits, too?” He challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the side of the desk you were sitting at.

“No, it’s just unexpected…” you chuckled, pinching your brows together slightly as a smug expression overtook your features, piloting the steady rise of heat that boiled at the apples of your cheeks.

“Why? I’m sure you hear it all the time,” he hummed.

“From men? No, they don’t voice their affections” you shrugged, propping the back of your heel up on the white table.

“Stop it, don’t do that, fuckin’ vandal,” he chuckled, immediately grabbing your ankle and gently moving it off the table, opting to just hold it for you instead.

The silence was heavy, bated breaths and mixed signals mingling with the cold air of the room as you stared up at him with a playfully defiant scowl. He smirked, the right side of his teeth flashing at you briefly as he tilted his head to the side.

“What?” You asked, gazing up at him through his lashes.

He didn't respond, only cutting his eyes at you briefly before chuckling deep in his chest.

“Nothing. C’mon, let me walk you home, it’s pouring,” He offered, dropping your ankle with careful abandon before pulling the drawstrings of his hoodie taut around his neck.

“I can walk perfectly fine on my own,” you shot back, gathering your things regardless of what had spilled from your mouth.

“I know you can, but let me do it with you. It’s raining, you have no umbrella, and it's getting dark. I don’t care what beef we had, you’re not walking home alone,” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and guiding you out of the Levine hall.

“Okay, Hero Time…” you scoffed with a light chuckle.

“Is that a Ben Ten reference?” He asked, turning his head to face you after holding the door so you could pass through.

“Maybe.”

“You like Ben Ten?”

“I watch it sometimes.”

“Huh…You’re a lot cooler than I thought. We’ll talk about that later,” he nodded, keeping you firmly against his side as you trekked and trudged through the heavy rainfall together.

“Will we?” You asked, raising a smug brow at him as you began to direct him across the wet pavement.

“Maybe. Who knows if we’ll talk at all later” he mused, the sneaky double entendre rolling off of his tongue like hot water from an overheated kettle, the scorching fire causing it to bubble over with heat.

“Interesting…define talk?” You asked, an innocent chirp in your tone.

He didn’t answer, only chuckled under his breath as he made his way into the college house. The difference between the chilly spring rain and the warm comforting heat was stark, immediately engulfing you in a sudden burst of gentle kisses of comfort.

“What I mean is…” he began, pressing the button for the elevator with his knuckle as he waited in front of the heavy metal doors. “If you let me, I’ll show you how sorry I am versus tell you.”

“Oh, you’re forward,” you chuckled, your right hand gently trailing down the veins that rested just underneath his olive-toned skin. “Don’t tell me you acted an ass because you wanted to fuck me…”

“No, never!” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart in exaggerated scandalization. “I acted an ass because I had identity issues, and didn’t know how to talk to pretty women.”

“Funny, I recall hearing you were everyone’s favorite on campus,” you hummed, your hand sliding down to his and taking two of his larger fingers in a closed fist.

The elevator dinged, the doors opening up to reveal the hospital-esque elevator, illuminated by its bright white fluorescent lights and the gentle glow of the red floor number on the opposite wall.

“Duh, I’m great,” he joked, a sassy little grin on his face as you pressed for floor number four. “I didn’t struggle to talk to anyone cuz nobody’s as pretty as you.”

“Oh wow,” you purred, your fist enclosing around his ring and middle finger a little tighter, giving them an experimental tug that would mimic the motion of a handjob.

“Oh wow indeed…” he mirrored, his eyes slowly trailing down to your half-intertwined hands, watching as you pumped his two fingers.

“I wish you weren’t so mean to me earlier, we could’ve been the best of friends…” you sighed, now leading the way to your dorm room after releasing his fingers from your selfish hold.

“Now we both know that’s a lie,” he murmured, following you over to your dorm room like a lost puppy trailing after their owners' calves.

You slid your little keycard over the keycard entry system attached to your door, waiting for the green light to flash and flicker before pushing the door open by the silver handle.

“Is it? We’re very similar,” you hummed, letting him waltz into your dorm room like he could rip the title from thin air and declare ownership.

“That’s the problem, there's no way we’d just be friends…” he chuckled, watching you place your keys on your desk and shuffle into the bathroom with a new shirt and dry pants in hand.

“That’s a bold statement…” you chuckled, kicking off your shoes and throwing on your dry clothes before emerging from the bathroom. “I don’t know, you’re a dick…I don’t think we would’ve been that close.”

“C’mon, I said I was sorry,” he sighed, his hands in his pockets as you stepped up to him, leaning your chin on his chest and peering through his soul.

“Yeah, but you don’t seem sorry…” you snickered, letting his hands come down to your waist as his brows furrowed together slightly.

“You want me to show you?” He purred, lifting you by your hips.

He let you dangle just above the ground, smirking like a smart Alec at the way he knew how easy it would be to toss you around if it was this easy for him to lift you. Watching you place your hands on his forearms in a slightly panicked attempt to steady yourself was adorable.

“Luigi, please.” You squeaked, unsure of whether you wanted him to put you down or devour you whole in your very own room.

“Nah, that’s not enough,” he hummed, his head tilting to the side with an amused snarl. “What are you asking for? Matter of fact, where’s that attitude?”

You chuckled, immediately tapping into this little power-play dynamic that broiled in front of your very eyes.

“I’m sure you’re not sorry, actually…I'm sure you do this to all the women you talk to,” you giggled, watching as his brows shot up with a faux-shocked and slightly offended affection.

“Oh wow, okay, so you need that actually…That’s a’ight, I’ll show you how sorry I am,” He purred, tossing you over onto your bed with a boyish chuckle as you bounced off the mattress with the weight of gravity.

Your bed was soft and comforting, the familiar gentle sheets folding and creasing under your elbows as you propped your upper body up to watch the downright predatory glint in Luigi’s eyes as he took his shirt off. The impurities in his normally angelic aura shimmered in the dim lighting of your dorm room, the black iron bits of his soul reflecting the sterling silver desires that shielded yours.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled, wasting no time in climbing over top of you, slotting his leg between your thighs as he peppered your face with kisses and apologies.

You whined, the pressure his kneecap applied to your achy cunt through the restrictive fabric of your sweats, eliciting sinful sounds of seductive shudders underneath Luigi.

“I’m so sorry, pretty,” he breathed, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants and pressing chaste kisses down your neck trailing to your navel.

“That was very wrong of me, I'm sorry,” he pouted, pulling your sweatpants down to your mid-thigh to press his fiery kisses to the hem of your panties.

“I should have never let my emotions and pride get in the way of such a beautiful lady,” he continued, his teeth pulling your panties down your thighs just so his mouth could attach to your glistening cunt.

Your eyes snapped shut, too embarrassed to hold his heated gaze as his tongue explored your folds with hunger. You were lost in the sensations, waves of pleasure blocking your vision as the sounds of sin echoed across the four walls— until a loud pop interrupted, along with a sharp sting on the side of your thigh.

“I’m apologizing to you, it’s rude to not look at me…you wanted this apology and you’re gonna take it like a grown woman,” he ordered, cutting his eyes at you before his hand came to soothe the pain on your skin.

You whined, fluttering your eyes open to meet his as the heat of shame and ecstasy caught up to your face.

“That’s better,” he hummed, his tongue resuming its relentless attack on your folds, his wet and pink tongue working itself near exhaustion as he coaxed you into two shaky orgasms.

“I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me someday,” he pleaded, his little pout flashing you his apologetic glare as he kissed all over your stomach and womb.

“F—forgive! I forgive you—!” You choked out, your senses feeling all tingly and sensitive as you pushed his head away from your body weakly.

“No, no, I insist…I don’t feel sorry enough, you can take more.”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione x yn

313 notes · View notes

starseungs · 6 months ago

Text

han jisung x gn!reader. fluff, slight angst, brother's friend au. kinda school au. 0.9k wc.

note: mentions of y/n having trouble eating due to stress. yes this is VERY self indulgent (like my other jisung fics) leave me alone </3 i need this ... also watch me reuse odd for the nth time in this fic lol

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[ 7:24 PM ] You were odd. That was the first thought that came into Jisung’s mind when he first met you. In his defense, who in their right mind wouldn’t think that way after witnessing you chop up a cheesecake into bite-sized squares?

Well, even “meet” was a strong word for that moment, really. He simply stumbled upon you in that horrendous act—in your own family’s kitchen, no less. Jisung had only expected to grab a couple of cold sodas from your fridge, with the permission of his friend, your older brother. Instead, he had to witness a terrifying massacre of one of his favorite desserts on the planet.

However, Jisung didn’t say anything about it. He just walked over to the fridge and did as he was told, ignoring the curious stares you pointed at him. At that short-lived interaction, he merely left the impression as is. You were odd.

Jisung soon came to realize that his first perception of you would be a running theme throughout everything that had to do with you in his life.

It was odd—the way you laughed and joked around with your friends at school. He found himself watching you carefully across the cafeteria hall, not even sure about what he was supposed to be looking at. You were eating well; even though it was just a light snack. To be fair, what else would you be doing in the cafeteria hall during lunch time, if not that? Yet, it still didn’t sit right with him to the point that he wanted to march up over to your table and feed you something more filling himself.

You were smiling, at least. A genuine one, if he could tell properly.

“What’s got all your attention?” It was only then that Jisung’s staring got broken off. Jeongin looked at him expectantly for an answer—one that Jisung didn’t want to give him as your brother.

Jisung sucked in a breath. “Nothing. I was spacing out, that’s all.”

Yes, it was truly odd.

Odd, like the way his eyebrows immediately furrowed when you slammed through the front doors of your house one afternoon, heavily stomping towards your room. Another slam echoed through the house, telling of the way you treated your bedroom door with the same care. Jisung feels like he just swallowed a pebble.

“Don’t mind them,” Jeongin huffed, clearly annoyed at how you acted in front of a guest. “Y/N’s always got something going on.”

Jisung’s mouth only soured further. Now, that can’t be right. He had seen the way you acted when you were happy, or just going through the motions of the day. Compared to those looks of yours that he had unknowingly burned into his memory, the expression you had on was definitely a telltale sign that you were upset.

And just like that, he found himself telling his friends that he needed to use the bathroom. If he remembered correctly, your room was just right down the hall, which just so happened to be next to said bathroom. Jisung really didn’t want to call himself nosy, but when his ears picked up the sound of sniffling, his right hand was knocking softly at your door in an instant.

How odd.

Your door creaked open after a few more seconds, along with your confused face peaking out. He watched your expression break out into a tight smile when you saw him. Your eyes had a slight tint of red. “Did you need anything? The bathroom is the door behind you, by the way.”

Jisung didn’t know why, but he felt a sharp sting on his chest when he saw your smile. It wasn’t genuine, if he could tell. “Stop that,” he blurted out suddenly. Your face fell as his unexpectedly cold tone.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t want to smile,” Jisung pointed out, pursing his lips as if he had tasted something foul. You scoffed in disbelief.

“How polite of you.”

Now, Jisung was at a loss. What exactly was his purpose for this conversation? Not that he knew—just that he started it and had nowhere to lead to. Luckily, your stomach growled loudly, as if to save him from his misery. “Oh, we have pizza downstairs. If you want some.”

Great job, Jisung. How smooth of you.

“I—” Your face felt warm in embarrassment, causing you to immediately clutch your stomach in a sad attempt at hiding it. To Jisung, it seemed like you were about to say something in retort before something possibly unpleasant crossed your mind. You sighed tiredly instead. “I’m not too sure if I can stomach something right now.”

Jisung frowned at your excuse. “Are you stressed?” You raised an eyebrow at his question. He quickly backpedals at the realization of how direct he just was. “I—uh, I meant if you’re having a hard time?”

Somehow, that seemed to work since you managed to crack an amused smile. Jisung finds himself thinking about how pretty your genuine ones are.

“And if I am?”

“Then you need to eat,” he nods firmly, casually trying to chase away the thoughts swirling in his mind at that moment. “I’ll get you just a slice and water. You don’t have to finish the slice, but at least finish the glass.”

Jisung couldn’t help the way he caught sight of how your pretty lips parted open in shock. Your grip on your doorknob tightened ever so slightly. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “Something is telling me to. It’s odd.”

“You—”

“I’m Jisung.” He turns to walk away. “Be right back.” A low exclamation of bewilderedness came out of you before you called out to him again.

“I already know that, dummy!” He unconsciously grins at that. You were so odd.

And Jisung starts to think that he likes odd.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme

298 notes · View notes

saltsicklover · 3 months ago

Text

SURVIVORSHIP BIAS

Survivorship bias, a logical error in which attention is paid only to those entities that have passed through (or “survived”) a selective filter, which often leads to incorrect conclusions.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Word Count: 3500+ Rating: T Part: 1 of ? Warnings: Swearing, Head Injury, Amnesia, Typical Canon Violence, Goose Lives, Iceman is overprotective and down bad, Maverick is... here. Notes: Not proof read, all mistakes are my own. Based off a poll I did a long time ago, lol. I do not consent to my work being copied, translated, or shared. Amnesia fics are not new, this is just my take on it! I hope you enjoy!!

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Tom "Iceman" Kazansky have been many things. Fighter Pilots, members of the esteemed US NAVY, friends, uncles, and all around good people. The pair have always been two sides of the same coin, the only thing separating them is the pebbled ridges of the edge.

Life has been this way for almost as long as Tom has been in the Navy. The pair, Tom and Pete (who were just Iceman and Maverick back then), were stationed in sunny California with the best the Navy had to offer. At least, the best that time around. It was only a matter of time before the next class of the "Navy's Best" would be roaming those same halls. The proverbial coin was formed that first night at the base's watering hole, their meeting nothing like the fairy tales. There was no first glance that broke away into love at first sight. There was no knowing, there was only acknowledgement and unspoken challenge; a formed edge splitting them, and joining them, two parts of the same whole.

That edge was there in each and every aspect of their lives, Pete's the Yin to Tom's Yang. One was reckless while the other was controlled, both spirals of chaos and jet fueled adrenaline giving way to hazy drops while they clung to each other. All sweaty palms against Namex green, nimble fingers tugging on zippers and pinching plastic buckles, breaking away the parts of themselves called "pilot" and baring their truest selves. They had breathed life into each other since that first week. What began as animosity boiled into sexual tension. Post sex clarity had Tom's face pressed into Pete's stomach while the smaller man carded his fingers through Tom's sweaty hair. The gel is no longer holding, allowing the gentle curl to return to its natural state. Tom still remembered the warmth of Pete's fingertips against his scalp and the way his fingernails would graze the nape of his neck just right. He remembered how warm Pete felt beneath his cheek, the sweat sticking their skin together. It should've been gross, but instead it felt like a small declaration of love. A taste of something real that had to remain unspoken. Tom let his fingers draw inconsistent patterns against the slope of Pete's ribcage, his fingertips dipping into the spaces between them. Bone to soft flesh and back again. He didn’t know then how many I love you’s and other whispered sentiments would be left on his tongue with him to do nothing more than taste. They didn’t yet know of the sweetness that was coming.

That was 1986. And where there is sweet, sour is sure to linger.

1990 was a wave of ice cold reality that took the pair under. Tom and Pete, (now more often known as Ice and Mav) and their RIO's, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw and Ron "Slider" Kerner had been called back to Top Gun for a strictly off the books mission. One of those missions that could change the tides and win you a couple very shiny awards that wouldn't see the light of day for at least thirty years.

It was supposed to be out and back, a little flight over the ocean to take out an off the record boat, no bigger than a crabbing vessel that had wandered into the wrong waters. It was all hush hush, no backup required. Missiles, guns, whatever it took to wipe the little boat off the map, pilots’ discretion. After all, the tides are subject to change under the smallest bit of wind blowing in the right direction. Mav and Goose were set to take off first, followed by Ice and Slider. They were to fly in from opposite sides, bisecting over the boat just long enough to drop a couple of missiles and get out of dodge. Easy on paper. Easier in the air, that was until the instruments went out and they were flying blind. RIOs’ eyes on the vessel below, pilots’ just missing the closeness of their companion jet. It was a simple thing, a mistake in the darkness of the still erupting dawn. The pair clipped wings, sending each jet out into a spin. Around and around they went, their target blown to cinders below.

The spin threw Maverick's turned head back achingly hard against his headrest, the dizziness having taken over his senses. Iceman and Slider spun too, but Ice was thrown outwards against the thick straps of his seatbelt. The wind was knocked from his lungs, but he recovered faster than Maverick did. If it hadn't been for Goose yelling at him from the back seat, Jesus Mav, level us out!, at just the right time, they would've ended up ejecting.

The first place the foursome ended up after returning to the carrier was the infirmary, laid out on cots while they waited for the ship's doc to release them. Sweat still dripped under their suits, skin sticky and damp.

Maverick got his bell rung, left with a bad concussion, an aching neck and a light ringing in his ears. There were a couple missing bits in his memory, but nothing the doctor on board could do a whole lot about besides hoping the pieces would fill themselves in before he got seen on shore. He couldn't remember what he had for breakfast in the mess before the mission or the bunk he was temporarily assigned to. Little things, but Ice couldn't help the worry that sat in the space between his lungs, the sourness of it crawling up his throat..

TEMPORARY MEMORY LOSS DUE TO BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA, his chart read, the bold letters glared up at Tom. The blond gulped, running a hand through his messy hair. The action itself hurt, hell, he ached something fierce. Ice himself had some bruises and deep, red indents on his skin from the edges of his seatbelt. The color sort of matched the pretty red mark that ran from above his lover’s eyebrow, down and around the edge of his face, right where his helmet sat.

Goose and Slider were in perfect condition aside from the normal bumps and bruises that come from pulling a difficult maneuver. The ghosting of seat belt bruises that would be gone within the week. Bastards. It always seemed that those two lucky fuckers made it out of the worst of it without too much trouble. The realization made Ice wish he would've given Slider a harder time when the oaf broke his collarbone over an intense game of beach tag that ended in a hard tackle courtesy of Wolfman.

It had taken what seemed like forever to get cleared by medical, then sent back out to the deck to be loaded into a plane, piloted by some LT that spent his time playing Taxi Pilot for those coming on and off of the carrier. It was almost business as usual after a mission like that, aside from the knowledge that the debrief with an encore of being stripped down by their superiors had been waived all together. As far as the brass was concerned, the Top Secret mission had been completely squared away. Everyone came back alive, no international incident to tend to as fall out. A win is a win.

Once they touched down back in North Island after far too much traveling over the past day and half. They were all looking forward to getting home and sleeping off that bullshit mission. It was two weeks before Pete and Nick had to return to Pensacola while Tom and Ron were needed back in Lemoore by the following Monday. It wasn't long, really, but the group were looking forward to getting to spend some time together, shooting the shit and drinking like they had after the Layton mission.

It had been four years since the four were together, all standing still in the same place instead of passing like ships in the night. It wasn’t rare for two or three of them to inhabit the same place as California seemed to be a hub for them all, but the four of them in the same place at the same time was something incredibly hard to come by. It was comfortable, the comradery something they’d come to define more as familial love, rather than pure friendship, not that any of them dared say such a thing out loud.

"What do you say, boys? Want to head straight for Lemoore or do we wanna crash in a hotel for the night and make the drive tomorrow?" Tom throws the question out with a casual shake of his wrist, his eyes locked in on the face of his watch. His chest aches as he draws a deep breath in, refocusing his eyes on the trio of men. There's a conscious effort to keep his eyes bouncing between them, though he wants nothing more than to hold his lover’s face in his gaze.

He had to fight to keep from throwing his arm around Pete, desire burning in him, to bring his lover in for a much needed kiss. It's missions like that one where he knows the minute they get home, they are either going to be tearing each others' clothes off, or screaming blame at each other for anything that went wrong, alongside anything that could have.

It's always been like that for them, started after Layton and they never quite grew out of the habit. But then and there, staring at Pete and the sweat dripping down from his hairline to his jaw, he wants to kiss him. Tom’s eyes drag down the gash on Pete’s face, the mark cluttering his pretty features in a way that turns his still boyish looks into something more manly. Or maybe it’s more rugged, more chiseled and hard in a way Tom has never seen before. A feeling stirs within him, making a home near the discomfort and worry still nestled in his ribs from their time in the infirmary.

If there is one thing Tom knows for a fact, it’s this, Pete Mitchell has an uncanny way of awakening a mix of feelings in him that he’s never felt before.

Then, as Pete shoved an elbow into Slider's stomach, he wanted to laugh, so he did. That was a common substitution for them, laughter in places of kisses, of hand holding, of the quiet intimacy that normal couples got to enjoy. Where they couldn't kiss, a look would do, but a shared laugh was always better. Something to share the sweetness on his tongue. A part of Tom hated this fact, the hate stuck somewhere deep in his bones. He knows why they can’t be open with their love for each other. He knows the consequences of their actions and how each moment they steal away could end their careers. Who wants to hire a gay, disgraced, former Naval Aviator with a dishonorable discharge? That question is neighbors with the hate he holds deep within him, and so he hates, but he keeps his distance.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm beat, and considering you two are crashing our place, I think we should head back tonight," Slider laughed at the look he receives from Ice, that “are you serious” look at the blond casts from under his brows. Slider's wry smile only grows bigger. They all knew the house in Lemoore was owned by Ice and Mav, it had been for almost three years at that point and it was Slider who was crashing long term. Goose crashing on the couch when he found himself in town without the rest of his family was normal, but made it all the more fun for Slider to tease about.

"I'm good with that, looking forward to crashing," Mav answered honestly, an exhausted smile ghosting over his lips. Maverick has never been able to sleep on airplanes, too anxious to let himself fully relax and drift off. He’s been awake since the day of the mission, now looking worse for wear. Ice had to look away to keep himself from jumping his partner right then and there in the middle of the base parking lot, eager for a kiss though Mav looked like he was barely keeping vertical. Call Iceman a greedy man, a selfish one -it doesn’t matter when it comes to Pete Mitchell- because it’s true. His hand found a home on Pete’s shoulder, if only long enough to squeeze it reassuringly. Iceman’s ready to crawl out of his skin to get closer to him.

"You're not supposed to sleep, remember, Mav?" Ice's tone went gentle as he took a step back from Mav. "Doctor's orders. Night sleep only, and someone has to wake you up every hour to make sure you're doin' alright. You've got an appointment at the clinic on Lemoore come Monday morning.” Pete looks dejected, expression then obscured by the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

It’s not just Ice eyeing Maverick, Goose is too. Part of him wants to reach out and slap Mav encouragingly on the back, but he is just too damn tired to muster up the energy. Goose knows hospitals and doctors make him uneasy after a bad bout of pneumonia took his baby sister when he was four. Through the exhaustion, Goose shares a look with Ice, and all Ice has to do is nod.

He’s got Mav. Simple as that. He’s got Maverick.

That’s the consistent unspoken topic between the two, Goose and Iceman. They knew each other in flight school, were friendly when they ran in the same circle but they were never close. Their priorities were just too different for the pair to mesh any better. Goose was busy courting Carol. Ice’s focus was the NATOPS, shitty bathroom handjobs, and keeping Slider out of trouble- in that order. After graduation they didn’t see each other until their TDY to TOPGUN and by that time Goose was more protective over Maverick than any other RIO he’d ever seen. Of course, that was back before Tom knew everything he knows now. And through the accident at TOPGUN that left Goose on bedrest through the following year, the group of four became closer. From wingmen to fast friends. And somewhere in there, though the timeline has gone hazy with the passage of sand through the glass, Tom Kazansky and Pete Mitchell fell in love. So to say Ice and Goose pass the baton that is care-for-Maverick back and forth, communication rests in looks and nods. Quiet for the safety of their careers and the protection of Maverick’s pride.

"How bad do you think traffic's gonna be? It's been a minute since I've driven in Saturday night California traffic," Goose inquired, almost ready to slump down and nap against his duffle, right there on the still sun warmed pavement. Slider pulled the bag from his fellow RIO's hands, only to toss it into the back of his truck.

"It shouldn't be too bad," Ice lied, the fact of it evident on his face. "Hopefully back before midnight,"

Mav checks his watch, the face of it swirling a bit in his vision with the sunlight, "That's... So many hours from now, Ice." There’s a whine-like quality to his voice and it hits Ice right in the chest. Part of him wants to laugh, to tease the younger man. Then a thought pops into Ice’s head, he’s injured, you prick, and then he feels somewhere between idiot and plain ol’ bad.

Slider, however, laughed.

No one bothered enough to throw out an actual estimated time of arrival after that. Soon after, all the bags had been thrown haphazardly into the back of Slider's truck and the group piled in. Slider and Goose up front, partly because they're taller than the other two, but because it made sense to them all that Ice was to be in charge of watching out for his husband.

Ice has Maverick.

They'd only been on the road for about a half hour before Ice unbuckled his belt in the back of the cab, which earned him a strange look from Maverick. As risky as Maverick is when it comes to his job and his life, one thing he has never played around with is seatbelts. If there was a seatbelt to be used, Maverick would be locking it into place without a second thought. Maybe it’s because every jet his ever flown had safety belts, or maybe it’s because the man had never fully trusted anyone behind the wheel- the fact that he doesn’t have a commercial drivers license refutes this statement- but nobody’s ever questioned his adamant use of the safety device, not even his husband.

The truth of the matter was that Pete’s mother was thrown through the windshield of her Rambler when she had a head on collision with a box truck. She never wore a seatbelt, and no one could ever say for sure that it would have saved her life, but Maverick knew better than to play with fate that way. And now, as Pete watches Ice unbuckle, he has a strange desire to reach out and catch his wrist. He wants Ice to wear his seatbelt, and the fact that he isn’t is bothering him a lot more than it rightfully should. After all, Slider isn’t wearing his, and Goose didn’t start until after Bradley was born. But God, he wants Ice to buckle back up.

The uneasy expression on Mav’s face was new, yet Ice paid no mind to Mavericks' wary look, instead picking one leg up and twisting so his back laid against the side of the cab, his legs up on the bench seat.

"What are you doing?" Maverick asked, a wrinkle in his brows. His voice had come slightly pinched, the exhaustion weighing on him now swirling along with the new anxiety of his wingman playing fast and loose with the safety laws. Ice nudged the younger man's knee with the toe of his boot, a hint at the other man to move. He didn’t.

"Attempting to get comfortable," He groaned, nudging Pete again, "Now would you unbuckle and come here so I can stretch my legs out?" Ice missed the flash of disbelief that flashed over Pete's face before his features settled into confusion once more. Another beat passed before Ice huffs out something unintelligible under his breath. He leaned forward, unclicking Pete's seatbelt himself. He took Pete by the upper arm before dragging him back with him, Pete's back meeting Ice's chest. Their legs in front of them across the rest of the bench seat, their knees still stuck bent but arguably more comfortable than they had been moments before. Ice's arms made their way around Pete's middle, the younger man going rigid.

"Ice what are-?"

"Just relax, hmm, Mav?" Ice hummed in his ear, sticky sweet, as one of his thumbs made small, loving movements against his ribs. For a moment, Ice wondered if he should’ve been gentler with his husband, but the thought passed as quickly as it came as he settled into his embrace. If Ice noticed the pickup in Pete's heart rate, he didn't mention it. With a terribly long deep breath, Maverick managed to let himself completely slump against Ice's sturdy frame, head leaned back against his shoulder. It had been more comfortable than he could have predicted, but the spinning pain in his head kept him from thinking of that fact for too long.

The blush that rose up his neck and ears only managed to make him hotter against Ice's chest. Ice’s breath against Pete’s neck had him on edge. The warmth of it tickled his skin in such a pleasant way that Pete couldn't help but allow himself to enjoy the gooseflesh taking over his skin. This was intimate, far more intimate than any wingmen should be- at least that’s what Pete thought- but the slow movement of Ice’s thumb against his ribs lulled him into a sense of security.

Pete spent most of the ride zoning in and out, listening to the drawled conversation of the men in the front seat. Music crackled through the stereo but its volume was turned so low that each song blended into the next, a lulling drone of guitar strings.The sun set as they drove, the blue sky turning smoky orange and vibrant lavender filled Pete’s eyes when they seldom cracked open. Ice held him firmly in place, keeping his lover pressed fully against him and for the first time since the ending of the mission he felt like he could breathe. In the safety of the backseat, Ice let his lips press gently into Pete’s hair behind his ear, a gentle touch no more than a kiss gentle as butterfly wings. Pete stirred a bit in his arms before falling right back again, his weight no more his problem. Ice felt whole.

Ice’s tender sweeping of his thumbs against Pete’s middle as he pulled the smaller man back firmer into his chest so they could rise and fall together lulled Pete to rest, but as Pete would drift, Ice would nudge the space just behind his ear with his nose before whispering a quiet hey, you’ve gotta stay awake, Mav. It left Pete feeling a sort of conflict he didn’t know he could feel.

Suffice to say, it was a long ride home for the group, but Pete let Ice hold him the whole way and tried to keep his mind from the feeling of Ice’s feather light kiss. He decided early on that it would be easier to forget about it, chalk it up to the cramped truck cab and the damn concussion. But most of all he tried not to think about how badly he wanted Ice to press his lips to his neck again.

#top gun fanfiction #icemav #icemav fanfiction #iceman x maverick #tom kazansky x pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #saltsicklover #amnesia fic

21 notes · View notes

beifong-brainrot · 3 months ago

Note

why do you ship weilin ?

Honestly, great question lol. Like I think I've written up at least a small manifesto of why I think weilin would be an objectively intereating ship lol

But like, if you mean personally why this ship is so important to me, I suppose there's a rew reasons. When Korra was coming out, I only kept up with it up until b2 and then I kinda ended up dropping it.

It was a few years ago that my sister and I were introducing our cousin to Avatar and we ended up watching the whole of Atla and then tlok, including B3 and B4. I think I got really attached to Bolin because I could sympathise with being a pushover and people pleaser, so naturally I gravitated to having him as my fave character.

When we reached B3, I immediately had a bit of a dislike of Bopal, and sorta of Opal herself, since I didn't really look much into her character at all. It felt forced and shoehorned in to please the fans who were feeling bad for Bolin for having such poor luck with women. A sort of 'give that nice boy a girlfriend, he deserves it' type of thing, which wasn't compelling to me.

I didn't initially take much note of Wei other than most ppls 'aww they're cute and they love their mom'. I really liked the pebble scene, and I think it carried a lot what I like to see shine through with Bolin. I also really liked the phrasing Wei used, 'trial by fire' since I think it's kinda what Bolin needs to grow as a character. The challenges placed before him are always dismissed and therefore he doesn't develop from them, which is perhaps something he could achieve with Wei, who has proved good at and willing to challenge him.

And I think the face pat scene just sparked my interest further. My sister, my cousin and I rewinded a couple of times and like kinda laughed about why they did that. And then I was jokingly like 'yeah this could be a good fanfic'. And my cousin and sister kinda encouraged me to commit to the bit.... which is how "Let's Change the Subject" happened. Which is now very outdated and silly but aim still proud of it lol.

My sister was actually the first person to leave kudos on it, as a guest, since she doesn't really read fics. I don't think she saw it through to the end, but it encouraged me a lot, since she's not always this genuinely encouraging.

I remember taking an almost year long break in writing that fic, because my mental health was tanking severely and school was hell. At first I didn't plan to continue that fic. But for some reason I saw that like 5 ppl left comments on what was written and that strangely encouraged me. So I posted another chapter and I ended up sorta crawling out of a deep rut by using that fic. I genuinely loved writing it, which is probably why I actually ended up extending it way past the point I planned to end it. Because writing it made me happy.

And then I kinda ended up accidentally stumbling into the tlok fandom lol. At first I think I was basically only talking to @dudelymantits who was the only other weilin shipper online at the time. And somehow then my very random side blog became an Avatar blog. It's weird, but I'm not complaining.

As much as I complain and grumble about the Avatar fandom having its flaws, I genuinely love the source material, and I have met a lot of amazing and talented ppl here.

So I guess it's really corny, but I think one of the reasons I'm so sentimental about weilin is that it literally led me to you guys lol.

#ok that was sappy I'll stop now #weilin #bolin #wei beifong

11 notes · View notes

skylinx2o · 6 months ago

Text

Gremlins on discord asked me questions about Pebble, so I shall answer >:3

1. What really happened to Pebble after he got taken away from that mysterious man?

He took him to the mortal realm, and they stayed in a cottage/shack for a while. Pebble was locked in one of the rooms, and well, while the man treated him okay, and even with care, he just seemed a bit manic still.

2. If Pebble was to be put into the scroll what would happen to him?

Well, Pebble doesn't have a past reincarnation yet, so he would just be himself. If he was put in it by an antagonist, he would be scared and worried, but he would just follow what Nezha taught him and try to find some safe place before Nezha showed up… But if he was put in the scroll by the Jade Emperor for some reason… Well, he just breaks down and cries a lot. He would question why Nezha didn't stop them :p But, if the Ink Curse found Pebble in the scroll… He would turn into Nezha and torment him that he's not good enough, that everyone judges him, and they only pretend to be nice, that he's a burden and because of his supposed destiny he will never be seen as a valuable person.

3. Does Pebble feels any sense of insecurities on himself or he is okay with the way he is?

He's insecure about how much value he has. He wants to be useful, help people and make Nezha proud. But celestial realm's high standards make him question if he's ever doing enough, studying enough, despite him going over and beyond in his studies.

4. Can Pebble still fly?

Pebble can fly in his dragon form, just not as well as other dragons. He might lose a bit of balance every now and then because of the lower part of his body.

5. What is Pebble's relationship to other celestials and the Jade emperor?

He doesn't pay attention to other celestials. Of course, he doesn't like how they talk about him, and their words does affect him, but Nezha's opinion is the most important to him. Well, some are nice, of course. But Jade Emperor… Well, Pebble is scared of him. Because the Jade Emperor, after everything that happened, is cautious about any possible threat, and a powerful dragon child makes the Jade Emperor watch him like a hawk for any little mistake.

6. Does Pebble get along with Atlas? (Atlas is one of my other OCs btw)

Atlas would absolutely love Pebble, he would be like a second parent to Nezha. Well, technically they would be siblings in that context, since both are taken in by Nezha? Anyway, they're family.

7. What is pebble relationship with Erlang and Xiaotian Quan?

Pebble would probably think that Erlang is pretty cool. He doesn't get many opportunities to talk with him, but he likes his style. And well, Xiaotian Quan… Doggo. He wants to pet him, but doesn't ever ask to. Since still, kinda feels intimidated by the older gods.

8. What is their first prank that they did at Ne Zha?

His first prank was as a baby. He hid in a tipped over giant vase for a whole day. Nezha practically turned the Celestial realm over. He started to think someone kidnapped him. And Pebble stayed quiet until Nezha found him.

9. Has they and Ne Zha ever caught themselves in a huge argument?

Not really, at least not yet…

10. Does pebble usually sleep with Ne Zha or sleep alone?

Well, when Pebble was a baby he would scream every time he would be taken away from Nezha. He sleeps with him less the older he gets, but he still loves to snuggle as they sleep

11. What usually pebble and Ne Zha did when they are bonding?

When Pebble was little, they would play games and stuff, or Nezha would read or tell him stories and old legends. Pebble also loved going to meetings with Nezha and watch him argue with others lol Nowadays, Pebble also just likes when they both sit outside and talk. Pebble also likes when Nezha watches him make ink drawings and talk about them.

12. Has pebble ever complain about Ne Zha cooking?

Does Nezha have time to cook? Well, Pebble appreciates his mentor trying, but… Well, the celestial kitchen is right there Xdd

Vote me boy! :3 👍

@lmk-oc-competition propaganda ✨

#lmk #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk oc #monkie kid oc #lego monkie kid oc #lmk oc competition #pebble #propaganda #lmk original character #silly #lego oc

14 notes · View notes

sakiyaki-sashimi · 1 month ago

Note

Sighs dramatically. I love you too I say before kicking a pebble. Yeah. Long ask anon uhm. I should probably sign off (for now at least). Since you also can't pick out my typing style, I'll throw you hints on who I am uhmmmm.. yeah :D Being sappy has detrimental effects on me, like thinking about your response when I should be doing productive stuff and smiling like a stupid dumb idiot head. Shakes my head and sighs.

We actually have the same Time zone (jump scare). Was thinking about that when you dropped yours, wow, we're twinning. I actually sit on your blog patiently for whenever you post anything, they're all bangers. "Everyone shut up, Sakki just blogged.." I say to myself. Oh yeah. A hint. Erm uh. You've interacted with me in at least the last two weeks. No idea how much that dwindles down people but uhmmm.. yeah :D Anon name uhhhmmm.. actually just feel free to call me whatever you please, I like seeing what nicknames you think up of. I think they're cute in a non strange way

OMG HAIIIII!!! Ilyilyikyyyy welcome back!!! I say emphatically bc I rly mean it I love when u come around here!!! <33 ur like those cool neighborhood kids that knew how to drive dirt bikes, just insane to see around when u come by!!

Yeahhh we have the same time zone so I know how late it is for u GET SOMEE SLEEEEPPP (I say hypocritically WAHH X3) but I’m kinda happy u decided to send me smth before u slept! Hope u stay awake long enough for u to get my response, I can’t leave a tumblr pen pal hanging lol

Hints? That’s fun!! I’ll card this off for later! I’m dumb as a rock though, so this might take a while 😅😭 all the reason for you to send in more though, right?

YOU THINK ABOUT ME LIKE THAT?? SO CUTE WAHHH!!!! I don’t shake my head when I think about your asks but I do shimmy!! Oh especially when I actually receive one!!! I kick my feet and shake like a jumping bean LOLL it would be really embarrassing how much I like these if you weren’t so sweet!

Timezones being the same is rare! The only other tumblr user I know on here is Leah! I’m trying to imagine you as her, but it almost doesn’t make sense, because why would you anon me? Not that I mind! (Hey being a detective is kinda fun…!) if you ARE Leah, then hey, first shot! I did it!

Wait omg u think my posts are peak??? Its usually just bullshit sentences that are like the crème de la crème of my notes app LOLLL like they’re not great but they’re better than “call me Thailand cause I Bangkok” so I’m glad u like them X//3

2 weeks is a pretty big timespan for me because I get a follower about weekly now (crazy!!) and adding that to all the other people I know… pretty big pool! But hey, it’s something!

You know I have nicknames for basically all my friends, irl or not!!! TV Tropes calls that a “nicknamer” LOLL I just like em! Usually the more I like you, the more nicknames you get!

Maybe you’ll get a nickname every hint I get! Wouldn’t that be fun penpal-chan? Maybe pebble-kun XD naaaa, not creative enough!

I think I’ll call you sugar maple! It’s the sappiest tree :3

#sakis zatsudan #long sappy anon <3

7 notes · View notes

gloster · 1 year ago

Text

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2023

We did it. We made it. We made it through the end of 2023, and BOY AM I HAPPY AS HELL TO SAY GOOD-FUCKING-BYE TO IT. I don't know about you guys, but this year- particularly the last quarter- have been a lot to say the least. A lot of headaches, a lot of mental breakdowns, a lot of emotional gymnastics, and more.

But thanks to good friends, good shows, good music, and of course good fanfics I managed to see it through the end.

One of my favorite New Year's Eve's traditions where I do my annually fanfic recs/favorite fanfics of the year. This marks a whooping 5th year doing it, YAY 🎉💃🏿 If interested, check out 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022 lists.

Please know there's no real ranking, despite the number ordering. Loved all these stories listed. Loved all the fanfics writers featured. And of course highly highly highly recommend

Without further ado, here are my favorite fanfics of 2023:

1). Something Good by @no-net-ensnares-me (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Eager to earn a wage that would provide a more suitable life for her family and prepare for Edwina’s debut in a couple years, Kate accepts a position as governess for the Bridgerton family and moves to London, where she finds herself thrown into the chaos of living with the severe yet handsome Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and his seven siblings.

The Sound of Music AU

The Hills are aliiiiiiiiiiiiive with the sound of music/and the feels are FEEEEEEEEEELT with each new chapter. LOL, but all jokes aside, yes it's been a year since we saw our dear Viscount and Viscountess yet I still ride hard for them like it's their season premire all over again. Thanks of course to the awesome fic writers who keep us well-feed as we wait for season 3, such as this gem right here

Seriously, I cannot stress how insanely good this was. A good retelling where you see elements of Sound of Music while also being its' own thing. The longing, the longing between Kate and Anthony is so good. READ IT.

2). A Devil's Love by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: When Kate's sister goes missing, she gets herself a waitress job at the Pebble Lounge to track her down, working under London’s seedy underbelly to find the only person she has left in this world to love. And Anthony Bridgerton? No matter how alluring and distracting he may be, he’s just a means to an end, his life defined by his family business built on corruption.

Kate won’t dance to that tune. She’s just trying to find her sister.

Two in a row. A win for kathony/kanthony. Where the first one for the most part is cozy and light, this one is dark. Not surprising since this story, according to the author, was inspired by the 2022's The Batman, focusing on the electric dynamic between our favorite Bruce and Selina Kyle. Or rather in this AU, the dynamics between a dangerous mob boss and a woman going undercover as a waitress to figure out what happened to her sister.

It's got everything. Protective/possessive Anthony. Stubborn, witty Kate. Great sexual tension. Fair warning, there is an unplanned pregnancy so keep that in mind. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride

3). Intent to Cherish by iffervescent (kinn x porsche)

Summary: A mouthy beta runs off with Kinn's watch. He goes to get it back.

4 chapters this story is. 4 chapters of hilarious back and forth. 4 chapters of Porsche keeping that stubborn streak in tact with Kinn trying to chip his way through. 4 chapters we get to watch Porsche go from intriguing thief, to Kinn's employee, and finally intended.

This story checks off so many boxes. ABO AU, which is always a favorite. Sugar Baby and Sugar Daddy dynamic- never get tired of that. And of course Porsche being spoiled rotten. What more could you want?

4). burnt cotton series by taetaehland (taekook)

Summary: here's a series featuring your favorite bratty taehyung and his whipped husband, jeongguk (plus their adorable pups)

Once again, we got ABO and we so far have 11 stories of it featuring our favorite BTS as they grow more of their little family, grow more in love, and of course Tae growing more crafty and poor Kookie growing more insane. I love it.

Not to mention seeing all the ways Jungkook becomes more and more whipped for his husband is just the icing on the cake.

5). 'Tis a Far Better Thing by @the-sinking-ship (drarry)

Summary: 'Tis a far, far better thing doing stuff for other people — or however the Muggle saying goes — because Potter is in need of professional help, and Draco is just the man to give it to him.

A Drarry Clueless AU.

Sometimes you come across two things, such as two fandoms that on the surface seem so far farfetched until one ambitious fic writer creates a story that combines elements of the two and creates a wonderful gem of a story. Which is exactly what happened here.

Draco Malfoy and Cher Horowitz are so much alike, it's not even funny. Thus enhancing my enjoyment for this story to outright love love loving.

Again, elements to a famous story that brings on the nostalgia and enjoyment while also being it's own fresh spin. Plus FASHION. Draco as a Fashion Designer with Harry being his newest client. Along with Draco massively simping- always a win in my book.

6). Tracklist by Mia_Moon (sukuita/sukuIta)

Summary: Singer Sukuna x Fanboy Yuuji

Where they do kinky stuff together first and then get to know each other later.

Sometimes you have that fandom with an OTP that's set and your loyal ride or ship. Then there are other fandoms, where you love most of the characters, see the chemistry between them, love the dynamics, and it's fair game for shipping season. Jujutsu Kaisen is one of those fandoms, and sukita/sukulta was one of those ships that I just ended up falling in love with it.

Listen. Listen. Listen. I know the synopsis just give smutty smutty good time, but you get that and MORE.

What more you say be asking? Well, for starter our dear boy Yuuji who gets spoiled rotten, pampered, and yes, also gets sexed up 7 ways to Sunday- featuring some of the hottest smut I've read so far might I add. Mia_Moon did their thing, and I definitely will be reading more of and more of their works.

I don't know why to explain it, but there's something about a celebrity AU, where we have one half of the ship be this famous celeb and the other being this outsider getting pulled into their world. I ate it up every single time.

7). I'm Only Going to Heaven (If it Feels Like Hell) by stereobone (eruri)

Summary: "Are you saying you want to be my sugar daddy?" Levi says.

This story, I kid you not, came at the best timing, especially as I still try to untangle my very tangled feelings regarding the final season of Attack of Titan. But one positive that came outta it was my ulitmate love for Levi Ackerman, along with rekindling my love for eruri.

Good to note, one of the quickest quickest ways for me to immediately read a fanfic is if I see the keywords: Sugar Daddy.

What can I say? It gets me everytime. And this one was no different. This story not only came to my radar at the perfect time, but it also was just so damn perfect. So damn good. And of course had me looking through whatever other eruri stories the writer had under their belt.

8). Minor Family Supremacy by @yoonmoonbii (vegaspete, kinnporsche,payurain, prapaisky)

Summary: Like Vegas, Venice Theerapanyakun was born into a dangerous world of crime and power plays. And unlike Vegas, he is well protected by his family who shelters the little boy and spoils him to the core. However, in a day like every other, Venice is kidnapped.

Oh dear lord, where do we begin with this one? Well, much as 2023 was a hot flaming mess, it also became the year of Love of the Air (my new comfort show) and Kinnporsche. For not only me but also for my dear friends @littlenightdragon & @kila09. And what does one do after getting into a new show/fandom? Find fanfics to satisfy the fangirl cravings.

Minor Family Supremacy, or as me and @littlenightdragon often like to call it, the Minor Family Saga was the fanfic for us. And deliver what we needed after finishing Kinnporsche and wanted more of Vegas, more of Pete, and see the other side of the Minor Family.

This one, massive massive props, praise, and all the kudos for @yoonmoonbii for putting this series together because wow. Series starts off with Payu aka Venice as a kid, best friends with his cousin Prapai, being protected by his loving parents until one day changes their dynamics forever- and further widen the gap between the two . But quickly as each story goes on, the two find themselves being more aware of their positions, the complicated histories of their families, and how to stay on course of their own lives without falling into the trappings of Korn's narcisstic chesse game.

It's that good. Each story is like a TV season to the vegaspete spin-off we were so badly owed and sadly weren't granted.

9). Haute Couture, Mon Amour by @goldentruth813 (sheith)

Summary: When a scruffy stranger walks into Mamora Designs, personal shopper Shiro decks him in finery instead of sending him away. Little does Shiro know there’s more to this man than meets the eye and while trying to give him a picture perfect moment he just might find his own instead.

When it comes to @goldentruth813, you can count on several things. Amazing sheith stories. Incredible moments that will make your heart swoon or flutter (depending on the rating). And of course for Shiro to be spoiled rotten and given more depth than the show did.

This one, one word: FASHION. Fashion, fashion, with a lot of a Cinderella-ish vibe, only slightly if you catch it.

Honorable mention:

Wishing on a Frat Boy

10). He's The Bride by @sashadistan (tododeku)

Summary: Fae Prince Shoto has been waiting his whole life to marry his betrothed. As it turns out, a few interesting details were lost in translation, but Shoto still thinks his bride is worth the wait.

Oh @sashadistan, how I adore thee. For the way you just drop these amazing stories for us peasants, feeding us with wonderful content one story at a time. I always love your stories whether it's sheith, tododeku, and more.

This one was no different. This story has everything I could want: Fae Shouto, possessive Shouto, body worship, Izuku being his stuttering and flustering mess, and arranged marriage.

If y'all told me 5 or so years ago, I'd get into arranged marriage, I would have been dumbfounded. Or wonder if you were trying to be funny. Now? I love it. Just goes to show that sometimes it takes a good writer to make something you don't like a win in your eyes.

And now for the Honorable Mentions that were insanely good but due to time & length, couldn't go into full depth:

Just Breathe by @icecream-suga (2 part series w/1st part focusing on yoonmin & the 2nd on taekook; gangsters, drugs, gunplay, OH MY. So goooooood)

Right at Home by cmere (firstprince, alex x henry; grad students in a non-royal AU, fake-dating, and hijinks)

Hair Ribbons and Silk Ties by writer_of_passion (tiana x nanami/tianami; loving husband goes bonkers seeing his wife's curls loose and it GOES DOWN, so so so good)

Bedroom Hymns by Writcraft (drarry; daddy kink w/dom & sub undertones, insanely HOTTT)

Like, Comment, and Romance by @xskyll (tododeku; Youtuber Deku, pro-Hero Shouto, mutual longing and pining wrapped in a insanely fun read)

And there you have it. As usual, thanks to the awesome fanfic writers who do what they do. Fanfics, literally, is the only thing keeping us sane. And please check out all these stories.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

45 notes · View notes

xsapphirescrollsx · 2 years ago

Text

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction.

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street.

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine.

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile.

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly.

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action.

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again.

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed.

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug.

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo.

“You’re new here.”

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out.

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person.

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away.

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder.

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw.

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was.

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were.

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said.

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass.

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan.

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m.

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window.

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing.

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee.

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it.

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here.

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well.

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual.

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases.

“I got it!” called Cindy.

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her.

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you.

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans.

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.”

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.”

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. “Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door.

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied.

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls.

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight.

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.”

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store.

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly.

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins.

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled.

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy.

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car.

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home.

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too.

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure.

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage.

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire.

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park.

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged.

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit.

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you.

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered.

“The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside.

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue.

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you.

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy.

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly.

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily.

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him.

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land.

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you.

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck.

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.”

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?”

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer.

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern.

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing.

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy.

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.”

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops. “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground. You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all.

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each.

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed.

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses.

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored.

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be.

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you.

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings.

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls.

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table.

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad.

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy.

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea.

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex.

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night.

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom.

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air.

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy.

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them.

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist.

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire.

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available.

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood.

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass.

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose.

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night.

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in.

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood.

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!”

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you.

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too.

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him.

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned.

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast.

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf.

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side.

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight.

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face.

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.”

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady.

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.”

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.”

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you.

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again.

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open.

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within.

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder.

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?”

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more.

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips.

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs.

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really.

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.”

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid.

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling.

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait.

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive.

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy. “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet.

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen.

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger.

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl.

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions.

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence.

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth.

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!”

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you.

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen.

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head.

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table.

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land.

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly.

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly.

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back.

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over.

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch.

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs.

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees.

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat.

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind.

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last.

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit.

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face.

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm.

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely.

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy.

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears.

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own. And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest.

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having.

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open. You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly.

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared. Part 2

#Black reader #black female reader #x black!reader #dark!syverson #dark!geralt #dark!syverson x black reader #dark!geralt x black reader

139 notes · View notes