#it was 500 words over the limit.

[nemeyuko]

I had to write a paper on Herbert West Reanimator publications vs 1985 Stuart Gordon Film, and I had to restrain myself from calling out the racism of the publications and the sexism/misogyny of the film.

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Okay, so not fanfic/writing stuff but do you ever think of how close Calla and Kody used to be? How sweet and bright and encouraging she was towards him when they were younger? How friendly and warm she was? How they smiled at each other? It makes me want to eat rocks.

[doliminuz]

Day 6 - Car Accident

Church On Michael's Street

OCS: David

TW: Car accident, blood, implied eye injury, panic attack, broken bones, animal death

Words: 907

@augusnippets

Everything fuckin' hurt.

That was the first thought to go through David's mind as the seventeen year old moaned in pain. What even happened? What did he do?

Oh wait, fuck.

A deer came out of nowhere, scared the crap outta him so he panicked and swerved right into a ditch. Then he... hit a tree, maybe? Or did it flip, dammit he can't remember.

He hopes the deers alright, he doesn't want the poor thing to be hurt even if he's really pissed at it right now for making him crash his brand new car. It's just an animal -it couldn't help it- it didn't know what it was doing.

Okay he should probably stop mulling over the deer and focus on making sure he hasn't broken any bones. And he should probably open his eyes but it feels like someone's attached heavy as hell weights to them. Still, he needs to open them so he can see what's going on so he'll just have to suck it up-

“Holy shit!” Everything's so damn blurry and his eyes, god, they hurt like hell. After a few moments of blinking the blurriness remains but it's not as bad, now he can actually see his surroundings. It's not pretty.

There's blood and glass everywhere, the window shields shattered and he can feel the broken glass digging into his arms through his, probably, no, definitely torn sleeves. He's now distinctly aware of the metallic taste in his mouth, the same metallic liquid dripping down from his broken nose and the agony in his ankle. He can't tell if it's broken or twisted and his hands hurt like hell too and oh god he's in the middle of fucking nowhere!

He totaled his car on a random highway in the middle of nowhere. There's no one around he's, he's, oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

“F- fuck! Shit, shit, fuck please! I- is anybody there? Please, fucking- fuck! Please, help me!” David screams, wails? He doesn't know, he just needs help. “P- please I don't wanna die! I-I can't-! God please, I'm begging you!”

He can't tell if it's blood or tears streaming down his face, maybe it's both, fuck he doesn't know. And he can't breathe, and his chest hurts, his ears are ringing, his visions blurry and David can't breathe. Is he dying? Is this what dying feels like?

“Ple- ease! Somebody, anybody! Help me!”

David doesn't want to die, he's seventeen, he can't die. He's got his whole life ahead of him. He has so much he wants to do, to see, he's not even finished high-school this can't be how he dies. On the side of the road in a broken car in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

“Please..!”

He can't leave everyone he loves behind, he can't. His parents, his friends, Abigail, Isabelle and-

“Issac…”

Oh god Issac, he isn't even born yet and he's going to die. He won't get to see him, he won't get to see his son grow, he won't even get to see him. He- no, no, no, no he won't let that happen. David won't die never getting to see his son, he can't. He refuses to, he's surviving, he fucking will.

The windshields shattered, he can crawl through it. David's hands stumble over the seat belt before he's finally able to unbuckle himself. Crawling out of the car feels like crawling through barbed wire, glass and broken plastic and probably tree wood stabs into his body like knives, making him bleed even more than he already is. It's agonising but pain is good, pain means he's alive, that he's going home.

Gasping and moaning he clambers out of his car, stumbling to his feet only for his right ankle to buckle and he lets out an agonised cry. It hurts so bad, it's broken, there's no way in hell he can walk-but he's gotten this far. David won't give up.

Broken hands grapple at wet, damp dirt and he pulls because he's already decided he won't die here and by the Lord himself he's sticking to that decision! So he slowly, painstakingly, drags his broken body across the forest floor. Each movement jostles the glass in his skin and makes his broken ankle throb with pain, he's half blind at this point and his visions tainted red from the blood steadily dripping down his forehead.

But he can finally see the side of the road, and like a dying man seeing an oasis in a desert, he desperately drags himself towards it with a renewed sense of hope. Just a few more feet, that's all he needs. A few more feet and he can go home, that's it.

However, David's damaged body has other ideas as he collapses. He tries to keep moving, keep going but his body won't cooperate and he can already feel his consciousness fading. All he can do is hope and pray that it's enough, please be enough.

And then, through his blurry, barely conscious vision, he can see it on the road. The deer he swerved to avoid, but it looks young, a fawn. The poor thing's broken body is left on the road, limbs twisted at odd angles and everything around it a deep crimson, so he didn't miss it. He ran over a fawn.

‘Sorry little guy,’ is the last thing David thinks of before slipping completely into unconsciousness.

[xanty8sau]

My school has signed up for a writing comp. in my local region and two of my teachers (Homeroom and English) are telling me to do it. I have a friend that is also wanting to do it but my dumbass can't think of anything original so I'm like writing a fanfic piece.

It said our pieces of creative writing could be on anything just the maximum words are 3000 so here I am writing a Genmui one-shot about Genya and Muichirou adopting a baby girl after her parents were killed by a demon. I swear I better not be judged for this by my teachers.

[kingsofeverything]

…

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

How am I 4k over word count I'm going to jump off a bridge

[rebornofstars]

Hi @la-sera! Your artwork is so intricate and just absolutely stunning, and has inspired me to continue creating for this fandom. I admire you a lot, so I wrote this short piece for you as part of the Fan Joy July challenge based on your artwork. I hope that’s okay!

Legend lifted the torch. Flame danced over the wooden pallet and the body laid out across it: agonisingly, gut-wrenchingly still. Legend forced his eyes away from the light and down. If he squinted through the tears he could almost pretend that the body was just sleeping. That the jumping firelight was a healthy glow in the body’s cheeks; that it masked the rise and fall of a chest. He smeared his wet face across his sleeve, and cupped the body’s face with one hand. “Hyrule…” he whispered. The traveller’s body was cold and quiet, the same as it had been every other time Legend had called the kid’s name. Each time, he felt the same half-second of desperate hope. Of longing. Of denial. “Hyrule… please. Please.”  Each time, his heart was torn apart anew. Legend sniffed. The kid looked peaceful in death. The creases on his brow were smooth. Twilight had laid a spare tunic over the mangled stomach and closed his eyes, just before they lifted him onto the pyre. A gesture of respect for the d— Legend felt more tears escape him. Hyrule was dead. He was dead.  He was dead. The thought was earth-shattering. “I’m b—burning,” he forced out through wet sobs, “your b—your body. Just like you—you made me promise.” He felt a steadying hand at his back. “Do you need help?” Twilight asked. Legend squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered silently. “No,” he lied. “N—no, I’m—good.” “We have to be quick,” Twilight reminded him. “The monsters are approaching. They’re still—” “I know,” said Legend. He brushed his thumb gently along Hyrule’s skin, even though he knew the kid would never feel it. Smooth and cold. Like porcelain. So easily broken. “I know. His blood.” The memories of that fight would be burned into his eyelids forever, red and bright and hot like the flaming torch he held. Hyrule being pinned down by a horde of monsters. The way he arched away from the knife, begging, pleading. The knife as it slid through his skin like butter, and the dark blood that began to bubble out of the cuts. The way it pooled in the hollow of his abdomen. The endless gushing as it coated the monsters’ hands down to the wrist.  Legend blinked the stark images away, hoarse screams ringing in his ears. He tasted bile. How was he supposed to walk away now knowing that he’d failed? That the kid had been ritually sacrificed in the worst way possible? Died seeing his worst fear realised? “I’m sorry,” he choked out, and lowered the torch. The bloodstained clothes caught alight. Hyrule was never going to finish the story he’d been telling Legend to pass the time while they trekked through the endless woods. He was never going to cast another spell or swing a sword or introduce them to his princesses. One day, Legend would forget the way the corners of his eyes used to crinkle when he laughed. “I’m so sorry.”

Fan Joy July Masterpost

"burn my body"

Hyrule dies in his Hyrule. The monsters managed to sacrifice him to resurrect Ganon.

Legend wants to grant Hyrule's last wish: burn my body.

[dykelectric]

I FINISHED MY COURSEWORK ESSAY I CAN FINALLY KILL MYSELF

[james-stark-the-writer]

few things will make you hate being a writer as much as doing research to see if you could heighten or deepen your story, and then finding out a character trait or a plot point you want to include in a story because it's important to the narrative elements and themes and who the character is intrinsically just don't make any fucking sense for the time period (this one's a germaphobe before the popular acceptance of germ theory) so you have to go searching for like obscure scientists who believed in and wrote about the theories enough and find some way to connect them to your character and having to read very long and annoying Italian book titles and not having any ability to check what they actually said because you don't know the language enough, so you can't properly check if the connection makes any sense, and that's IF you can even find the actual texts, since far too many are out of print or only available if you pay too much money for something that should be out of copyright and be publicly available since it's over 250 years old.

[bad-ads]

silly silly guy just abandoned her first draft month long work common app essay abt his relationship to selfworth and sisterhood to write a rant about cadavers instead

[starscreamingg]

Okay to respond to most of the replies on this post- I do get where you're coming from, androids are treated poorly in the game because they're an analogy for people of colour, the androids themselves don't deserve poor treatment just because they were put in a position of having to take a job that could've gone to a human.

I actually do think it could've been a decent way to get people who don't get involved with overt political discussion thinking about underprivileged people and the ways in which society has and continues to harm them. Like give the people something to latch onto (personable robots) and then go "hey you know who ELSE has been historically treated like this—"

Like that's. That's fine.

My point is that. Uh. I don't think making the androids an analogy for people of colour is a particularly good idea.

Okay let me get incomprehensible- within the real world the replacement of human workers with automated labour can and does fuck over actual people (some quick corroboration)

So we're shown in the game that androids are functionally automated labour built and inserted into industries for the explicit purpose of replacing human beings, which is an actual thing that actually happens.

And the game showcases that nothing has been done to stop employers (or cyberlife itself) from implementing them EVERYWHERE, which causes dbh's unemployment epidemic.And therein lies my problem.

The narrative comparing androids to people of colour (especially black people during the civil rights movement) and villainizing the unemployed humans by making them hyper-violent zealots (see- Markus' opening section for some of the most overt examples) is SUPER WEIRD TO ME because unlike actual people of colour the androids ARE functionally replacing jobs. They're being inserted into the workforce by corporations who have allowed the United States unemployment rate to rise to 37.4% but the game VERY ADAMANTLY STATES that the problem here is the unemployed who are violent. To the androids.

You see what I'm saying here? Like why did they write it like that? Like in real life labour being automated to this degree would be a PROBLEM. Wanting the androids universally decommissioned irl is such a reasonable point if you look at them as robots replacing the workforce without any limitations, which. They are.

And like, the game could've been sympathetic to the androids AND people fucked over by their implementation but it REFUSES to reckon with the actual problems (the corporations allowing this to happen, the lack of regulations on androids) in favour of going "humans bad for treating androids unfairly because the androids are equivalent to black people fighting for their rights."Like that's WEIRD, right???

Detroit Become Human and why does this game decide that the problem in society is individual people treating androids poorly because those androids are choking them out of the workforce and NOT the corporations and governments who deliberately designed the androids to do this

[oh-look-car-horns]

Wondering what boop count your 3 letter word corresponds to? I gotchu:

Using a python script I wrote, I booped myself 50,000 times, saving an image of my boop-o-meter every 500 boops. Before we get into the results, there are two important limitations to this study that I should mention:

Firstly, because I only recorded the boop-o-meter every 500 boops, if a message appeared for less than 500 boops it may not have been caught.

Secondly, every now and then my computer would lose a boop or two when a click wouldn't register. This is seen in the 500 and 1000 boop images below, which in reality read 498 and 994 respectively. Because of this, boop values are slightly lower than they appear.

With that out of the way, lets dig in.

0-999:

From boops 0-999, the boop-o-meter displays your boop count, and changes color as you boop

Boop count: 0 Boop count: 500 Boop count: 1000

Boop fact: the colors do not change after 1000

LOL:

Between boops 1000 and 1500, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'LOL'. This likely took place at 1000 boops, but maybe it said 'MAX' or sumn for awhile at first? Idk this is already the misinformation website so not my problem.

Boop count: 1500 (actually more like 1490 ish)

More results below the cut

OMG:

Between 1500 and 2000, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'OMG'. Again, this probably happened at 1500 but who knows. Maybe staff made it 1523 for the bit or something.

Boop count: ~2000

WOW:

The boop-o-meter remained at omg until the 3500 boop readpoint, when it switched to 'WOW', meaning this transition happens somewhere between ~2980 and ~3480.

Boop count: ~3500

Boop fact: 'WOW' is the second longest reigning message

*-*:

Between 5000 and 5500 the boop-o-meter switched to '*-*'. You get the idea at this point so I'll speed it up.

Boop count: ~5500

WHY:

The boop-o-meter changed to 'WHY' between 6000 and 6500 boops. For science. That's why.

Boop count: ~6500

PLZ:

Next was 'PLZ', switching between 7000 and 7500.

Boop count: ~7500

AAA:

I'm not sure what bloody urine has to do with anything, but for some reason staff felt is was important to display, switching between 7500 and 8000.

Boop count: ~8000

;_;:

Huh the colon makes that one look weird. 8000-8500.

Boop count: ~8500

Boop fact: That fucking cat haunts me in my dreams

0_0:

I realized after I set my pyautogui script running that my computer wouldn't turn off its screen because of the clicking, so there was a strobing blue light in my room all night. This encapsulated my expression while trying to sleep (8500-9000).

Boop count: ~9000

MAX:

After 9000 it displayed 'MAX'. This was cap. (9000-9500 switch).

Boop count: OVER 9000 (9500)

<33:

I miss my wife. 9500-10,000.

Boop count ~10,000

TUM BLR:

THE HOLY GRAIL. The boop-o-meter switched to displaying 'TUM BLR' between 10,000 and 10,500 boops. Because my actual boop count was slightly behind my theoretical, I'd guess that this change happened at 10,000 boops.

Boop count: ~10,500 (likely switched at 10,000)

Summary:

When charted the boop curve looks as follows:

Boop curve: 0 - 10,000 boops

My script continued to run until 53,000 boops, but no further changes were observed. Again, there were quite possibly more messages at lower boop values, but my ass is not checking. Maybe I should have scaled my sampling accordingly, but it is what it is. Thank you for joining me on this journey, and if you have any corrections or more information, please add it to this post.

Boop fact: Terfs DNI

[sexybritishllama]

in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy

for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:

the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)

the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop

there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial

this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs

flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected

but, eventually, it opens!

well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?

the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?

as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:

only 10 items could be donated per day

points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each

this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless

r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win

people were Not Happy about this

not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least

however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.

i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already

because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day

BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.

this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them

so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison

it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION

So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

imagine Jason sleeping with reader and having to rest his hand on their neck. He just wants to feel their pulse at all times, terrified of them disappearing .

The Blood In Your Veins

Hi nonnie. Kinda tweaked this ask because holding your throat feels more AK!Jason Todd to me. Sorry if you're not an Arkham Knight fan! ~500 words

The Arkham Knight sleeps with a hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressed to your beating pulse. Night after night, his hand stays there, unmoving, unrelenting. If you try to move, his grip only grows tighter, a reminder to stay in place. To stay next to him where he can feel the blood pulsing through your veins.

He knows you try to be understanding, try to close your eyes and slip into sleep. But you can't. It feels like a threat, a promise that you can't go anywhere, even if you wanted to. And maybe it is.

He needs to feel the beat of your life against his skin. He needs to know that this is real, and not another twisted vision his mind conjured in the asylum. It's not an escape. It's not just a fantasy he's imagining to pretend he's not trapped with the clown.

He'd never admit it, never tell you that you're the reason he still has anything left of his sanity. That he'd pretend he was somewhere safe, with you, every night the torment got too much. Somewhere he wasn't beaten and abandoned and cold.

So, he needs this. Needs you. Needs the soft and the warm and the steady you always bring. Even if you try to shift out of his grip, even if you try to guide his hand to hold somewhere else. Nothing else makes him feel here, in this moment. His fingers have to rest around your throat.

The Arkham Knight would never hurt you, never try to limit your air or make you choke. But he can't stop himself from squeezing, sometimes. Your pulse just feels stronger against his skin when he does. He can get closer to the steady pumping in your veins, feel the way your heart rate accelerates. He feels alive. You feel alive.

It's best when you finally fall asleep, when your breathing slows and you melt into his touch, any apprehension or uncertainty gone. He exists for moments like these. When your soul is completely under his hand, when he can stroke the pads of his fingers over your pulse and just know.

It's the only thing that keeps the nightmares away now. You. Your life. He'd bury himself into your chest if he could, anything to get closer to the pounding against your ribs. He wraps himself around you at night, face buried in the junction where your shoulder meets your neck, resting over your heart, or hidden in your hair. He tangles your legs with his or hikes your thigh over his hip. Whatever gets you closest.

But one thing always stays the same, his hand finds a way to settle on your throat. Nothing feels more right than when his arm snakes past your chest so he can hold your neck and pull you to him. He'd keep you like this forever if he could.

You'll understand, eventually, even if you don't know now, you're the only peace he has left.

[joffyworld]

TERRUUUUUUUUUUU 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

AHHHHHHHH

TERRUUUYUYU YOUR SO FUCKING COOL YOU DESERVE THE WORLLLDDDD

Oopsie daisy looks like I just accidentally got 500 followers teehee what a coinkidoink

— “Do I… truly deserve this?”

— “Of course you do. You deserve a chance to be happy.”

One thing you must know about me is that I hate rendering. I hate it because it takes so much time, so much effort, so much attention. I’m not someone who enjoys spending a lot of time on my artworks because I don’t have all the time and patience in the world—therefore I hate rendering. But I decided to render as best as I could on this one as an expression of my sincerity to you all. After all, showing how much I care through action can say so much more than whatever words I have. It’s not the best thing I’ve made, but I hope yall can see my appreciation through this image.

Thank you. Thank you everyone, for all the laughs, the joys, the RB’s and likes and comments and everything in between. It’s truly been a magnificent experience. Truly, cooking here has been an honor. May I continue to be a good chef to you all.

[buckets-and-trees]

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

 “Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

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Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...