#post surgery glow

[justc2world]

Who looks like that just hours after surgery

[shunfabia]

im not dead

[faaun]

shaking of leaves by into it over it is genuinely one of the top songs of all time

[sigyn-foxyposts]

Hello guys, I'm very sorry for not posting or saying anything. It was really difficult for me, because it was so sudden but I needed a surgery. I've had scoliosis in many years and it got worse with time. Now I had a huge surgery to fix it!

It's alright now and I survived obviously, I feel better, just very stiff and I can't really stand yet. I don't know how much I'll draw and post. But hopefully I'll start soon!! Thank you all for being so patient.

A wave!

I look like this guy haha!!

Of course not many will pass away from a scoliosis surgery, where I'm from they do this soooo much! but because I was so brave and strong, and fought for my life already once as a baby. I told myself "If I were to wake up, pain free, I will consider worshipping Hel"

It's crazy I know! I'm not really the type to think there's actually someone there, some higher power but then again who knows? It's a little suspicious isn't it? I've always seen so much death around me, black birds that I'm not too sure was a Raven or crow. Whatever the case I relate to Hel a lot, I feel like I have some sort of connected.

[missphoric]

goin thru my camera roll and i swear you can see the light enter my eyes in these pre-pussy versus post-pussy hospital selfies

[neverendingford]

.

[elixirfromthestars]

Sink Your Teeth In Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning(s): spooky fun vibes / smut / fluff / female reader / mutual pining / love bites / dirty talk / unprotected sex / pet names / 18+ mdni / sprinkles (who am I kidding it might be a little more than just sprinkles) of possessive Bucky / breast play / a tiny moment of drinking / smut with little plot

Prompt(s): human (vampire costume) / treat (fluff, smut) / neighbor / “Why are you looking at me like that?” + “Spread them. Further.” + “You’re pretty like that.” + “There you go. Doing so good for me.” ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

a/n: uhhhhh this is what happens when you let me write while on medication post surgery lol please ignore how late this is, your girl was going through it 😭 This is for @buck-star ‘s Trick or Treat fun 🎃🧡 Also based on this ask she sent me, so this is for you Sydney 🤭🧡. I hope you all enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ❤️🦇❤️

vampire divider ♡ // main masterlist ♡ // bucky masterlist ♡

You’ve heard all the superstitions about the full moon before. The way it seemingly makes people act strangely—far from themselves. The word lunatic and lunacy are tied to the moon as well, having been believed to incite mania in people. An unrecognizable version of themselves whose impulses bordered on primal. Tonight was no exception to such superstitions as the full moon hung high in the sky on Halloween. Promising to pull the sentiments from the deepest depths of each person out into the open. 

However, in this instance, an argument could be made that the moon was not at fault for how your pulse quickened or how your heart hammered in your chest. No, not even if the moon’s glow reflected in Bucky’s eyes so beautifully that they resembled a pair of sapphires staring right back at you. Freezing you to your spot right outside his door. 

The moon was also certainly not telling you to push Bucky into his home and crash your lips onto his until your lungs begged for air. No, oh no, that was all you. 

“You here to drive a stake through my heart, doll?” Bucky’s playful tone broke you from your trance, biting his bottom lip as he held back a smug grin. A flicker of something bewitching crosses his eyes as they search yours for an answer. 

You shifted on your feet, mortification prickling your skin as you collected yourself. “I might if you don’t keep those fangs to yourself,” you quip, tapping his chest with the fake wooden stake in your hand, trying to disperse the attention away from the way you had ogled Bucky. You wouldn’t say you had a thing for vampires, but his costume was giving him this mystic allure that was fueling an unspoken desire you had been harboring for him since you met half a year ago.

Bucky’s vampire costume was far from the cheesy kind you could find at any corner pop-up Halloween store—it was quite the opposite. Bucky dawned on a crisp white dress shirt underneath a black vest that wrapped around his torso—emphasizing his broad build. A few buttons on the shirt were undone, revealing just enough skin to make your eyes wander. His black trousers fit his legs as if they had been tailored perfectly to their length. His velvet cape was an onyx color with a deep crimson lining that swayed behind him at every movement. To top it off, a pair of fangs poked out from his smile that sent a shiver down your spine from their playful danger. 

He certainly looked the part of a vampire—dreamily menacing in the best way. 

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, his eyes glinting mischievously as he winks at you, “Don't worry, doll. I won’t bite unless you ask me nicely.” His words bore a hint of a promise that caused your heart to skip a beat. Flirting with him wasn’t unusual—you’ve been doing it since you became neighbors—despite that, tonight, it felt different.

You let out a sound between a snort and a laugh—pushing away the heat that wants to spark itself into a flame, “I’ll pass on the biting, thanks, but I would appreciate a drink before we head out.” Your words are punctuated with an expression he can never say no to. 

When Bucky is met with your soft eyes and sweet smile, that appeals to him like no other—there’s no way he can say no. He opens the door wider for you to step inside, welcoming you into his home with a passing comment that he could use a drink too. You walk in with a familiarity as if the home were your own. Which—if you asked Bucky—it might as well be. You spend so much time here he’d go so far as to say this was more your place than his.

He didn’t mind that. On the contrary, this place hadn’t felt like home until you came into his life. Since you started coming around, these four walls transformed with your presence—traces of you woven into every corner. The stray hair ties that lay scattered throughout the rooms, a few of your sweaters in his closest in exchange for stealing some of his, the cat mug you claimed as yours, and your latest read left unfinished on his coffee table to be picked up and continued while he cooked dinner for you two on his nights off. All these little things and more made his house warmer, fuller, and undeniably a home. Turning this space into something he longed to come back to every night. 

You close his front door and follow him to his kitchen, the butterflies in the pit of your stomach not going away. Not that they ever did in his presence, but on some days it was easier to ignore the fluttering. 

Today would not be that kind of day. 

He reaches up into his cupboards, taking out two crystal glasses while idly chatting about the Halloween party Sam was throwing. You weren’t listening, mind elsewhere as you attempted to distract the inappropriate thoughts away, simply watching as he promptly poured out two servings of wine. He handed one to you, his hand brushing against yours at the motion—sending a jolt of electricity through it. You grip the glass a little tighter than you should and hastily take a sip. 

You would definitely need more than one drink. 

“Are you even listening, doll?” Bucky was staring at you with an amused expression, wine glass hovering at his lips as he called out your inattentiveness. Your attention gets brought back to his mouth which no longer hosts the fake fangs. He had removed them so as to not stain them with the wine. 

When had he done that? How long had the passage of time escaped you?

A warmth found its way to your face, trying to hide behind the crystal glass in your hand. Bucky knew you weren’t listening to him and his only theory as to why was clued in by the fact that your gaze continued to drift to his lips. 

“Huh? Oh, I was—it’s just…” you trail off trying to find an excuse, but when you can’t find one—or at least one you can tell him—you concede. “Sorry, what did you say?” He leans against the counter at your question, a smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes darken ever so slightly, as he ponders how far he can take the flirting tonight. 

“I said you look good, doll. I really like your costume,” he repeats his unheard compliment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your form. You gulp the rest of the wine in your cup—the spark of tension reigniting. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from how the black lacy gothic corset top hugged your breasts perfectly, and the matching leather pants clung to you like a second skin—leaving nothing to the imagination. And to Bucky’s added torture, you decided to strap a leather harness to your thighs that he had to resist the urge to grasp by the straps and pull you flush against his frame so you could feel how hard you made his—

Bucky stopped himself from letting his mind wander to places that would cause all of his blood to rush south. 

You looked down at your costume, not thinking much of it when putting it together. When Bucky told you he was dressing up as a vampire you thought it would be fitting to dress up as a vampire hunter. You were on a budget though, so between your closet and thrifting you came up with the outfit you’re wearing now. 

“Thanks, Bucky. You definitely did a better job though,” you compliment him, thinking that if anyone deserved praise for their costume—it was him. Bucky shakes his head, taking another sip of his wine, “Not me. Sam. He’s dressing up as a twenties mobster, so he let me borrow his costume from last year. Apparently, he goes all out every Halloween.” 

“Does he? Can’t wait to see how the party turned out then,” you comment, your nerves over meeting his friends for the first time bubbling its way into your system. Bucky gives you a small smile, the sight easing your anxieties ever so slightly, “Speaking of which—we should probably head out now. The party starts soon and Sam’s due to blow up my phone any second now,” he grumbles, finishing off the rest of his wine. A single deep red droplet runs down the corner of his mouth. Your fingers itch to wipe it off, but instead his tongue darts out to catch it—licking his lips in the process. A soft intake of breath was heard from you, an instinctive response to what he had done. The subtle sound revealing more than words ever could. 

There’s a shift in the air—it’s inevitable—you both feel it. 

The space between you is now charged, the kitchen feeling smaller and yet the space between you two, too far apart. Bucky’s eyes shine with a gentle intensity as he saunters over to you. Delicately towing at the lines you both wish to cross tonight. 

Your eyes search his for his intentions the closer he gets. Trying to decipher what you can as his left arm reaches out behind you to grab his keys—momentarily caging you. Your lower back presses against the counter, heart stuttering in your chest as the scent of cedar and spice from his cologne encases you.

“Yeah we should…” you swallow hard, voice barely audible as your eyes lock on his lips, the wine having stained them a deep crimson color. Resembling that of a vampire’s after they’ve feasted on the blood of another. A rich shiver makes its way down your spine—one he easily catches. This emboldens him, his own eyes travel down your face and then further down to observe the way your breasts strain against the corset.

Bucky was tempted to sink his teeth, and something else, into you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you found your voice somewhere between the longing that plagued you and the urge to pull him closer.

“Like what, doll?” 

“Like you’re seconds away from changing everything between us.” 

When those words leave your lips, Bucky knows there’s no point in denying it. “Maybe because I am,” he responds in a low murmur, before wasting not another second and crashing his lips against yours. His hands finding purchase at your hips and giving a light squeeze. Your lips part in a soft gasp at the sensation, his touch kindling the craving you’ve had for him from the moment you stepped foot into his house. Your hands find their way to his robe, the velvet soft underneath your fingertips as you pull him closer, wanting to leave no space for air between you. 

Bucky’s on the verge of losing his mind with your body pressed so close to his. His tongue prods gently at your mouth seeking entrance—something you eagerly give. When your tongues tangle you let out a soft moan that teeters on a whimper and it stirs something deep in his gut. He so desperately wants to pull more sounds out of you, but he needs to know you want this as much as he does. 

He pulls away from the kiss momentarily, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your hands relax and let go of his robe to rest against his chest instead. Savoring the way oxygen finds its way into your lungs again. 

“Tell me to stop and I will…” Bucky swallows hard as he says this. His mind reeling as he tries to calm the tightness in his pants. You shake your head, “I won’t. I want this, Bucky. I want you,” to assure him of your words, you pull him in by the loops of his dress pants, rolling your hips slowly against his bulge causing him to hiss at the pleasure. 

“Fuck, doll. The things you do to me.” 

“Show me.”

Your plea makes Bucky throw all hesitation out the window. Grabbing onto the straps of the harness at your thighs to press you into him and grind against you—groaning at the friction. You reach up and card your fingers through his hair to pull him down for another searing kiss. Your mouths moving with a sense of urgency and purpose. Needing to make up for all those days you only let yourselves flirt and never truly gave in to what you really wanted. 

The spark of desire bursts into embers as the intensity of the kisses increases—tongues dancing, teeth clashing, and your breaths entwined as you lose yourselves to the taste of one another. Every inch of your skin titilating in anticipation for Bucky’s touch. It’s evident you both need more, so Bucky snakes his hands down to cup your ass, hiking you up and around his waist to carry you over to the nearest surface. 

“You’re. So. Goddamn. Beautiful,” Bucky punctuates every word with nips to your jawline as he places you on the granite island. Your fingers brush past the edge of something plastic as you steady yourself on the cool surface. Your eyes reflexively look over and see the fake fangs Bucky had on earlier. Your remember the way they looked on him and your mind wanders to what his own teeth can do.

“Bite me,” the words slip out before you register how demanding they may sound. A deep rumble resonates from Bucky as he laughs at the way you said it. He removes himself from your jawline to get a good look at you—his cock twitching at the sight of you. 

Your chest heaved with exertion from all the air Bucky stole from you, your breasts threatening to spill out from your corset—lips swollen and pupils blown wide with desire. Knowing that this was your reaction to his kisses, to his touch, to him before you’ve even gotten to the main part—Bucky had to stop himself from coming undone then and there knowing he had such an effect on you. 

“Didn’t I say you had to ask nicely, doll?” he mocks playfully, eliciting a needy whine from you. The sound goes straight to his dick as it painfully aches to be inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold out much longer, as much as he’s enjoying the kisses. 

“Spread them. Further,” Bucky mutters the command into your lips, his hands sliding up your legs. You oblige his request, giving him more space to settle between your thighs. Your fingers thread through his hair as he trails open-mouthed kisses down to your pulse point—nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Bucky relishes in the soft whines and whimpers that leave you whenever he bites down just enough to hit the bliss point between pain and pleasure—soothing any remaining sting with his tongue. He catches the way your nipples harden underneath your corset—pressing against the fabric—making him crave a taste. 

“Gonna mark you up pretty girl—everywhere,” the low murmur of a promise is sealed into your skin, teeth grazing your neck delicately as he holds off on marking you there for the time being. His fingers hastily unhook the clasps of your corset, your breasts spilling out. He cups them in his hands, kneading the soft flesh while you moan copiously. Bucky greedily swallows every single one. 

His head dips down to pepper kisses across the valley of your breasts before dragging his tongue across one hardened nipple—teasing you as your breathing grew ragged. Your chest arches into him, moaning out his name as he moves to the other breast. Taking the unkissed bud into his mouth and sucking on it with a hunger that borders on savage.

“I know I said bite me, but watch those teeth.” 

“I’ll be good, doll. I’ll be real good to you.” 

He chuckles against your breast, causing delicious vibrations that send shivers down your spine. He moves over to the other nipple, giving it a playful nip that causes you to hiss out a watch it. He laughs again, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he continues to worship your breasts. The pleasure shoots straight to the throbbing between your legs, your underwear dampening. 

Nimble fingers find their way to his dress shirt and vest where you do your best to unbutton as much as you can, needing to see and touch more of him. You run your fingers down the hard planes of his chest and abs—your touch leaving heat in its wake. Bucky continues to lavish attention to your sensitive buds, his lips swirling and sucking the peaks insatiably. 

When his lungs burn for air he reluctantly releases your nipple with a wet pop—pulling away to see the evidence he’s left on your skin. “Mmm, you’re pretty like that doll—all marked up by me,” his fingers trailing and tracing over the marks he’s left on your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His thumb brushing over them with feather-like touches as an almost affectionate gesture. Your body shudders at the possessive gleam in his eyes—one that only intensifies the more his gaze lingers on your skin. 

You’ve never seen him look at you like this before—and you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Bucky…please…I need more of you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” 

As if the word baby wasn’t enough to have your heart leap out of your chest—Bucky’s fingers toying with the harness at your thighs, and the button of your pants certainly did. Swiftly, he proceeds to undo it all and the zipper. You eagerly help him slip it all off, and when his gaze meets the soaked front of your seamless cotton panties, a husky growl reverberates in his chest. His fingers hook at the edges while his teeth graze along the front of the fabric. The action takes your breath away, your heart racing a mile a minute. His hooded eyes bore into yours as he takes the fabric between his teeth and drags it down your body, baring your slick folds to him—he groans at the sight. 

“Fuck, doll, so ready for me.”

Bucky takes your panties and pockets them. Just as you're about to give him shit for it, he springs up to kiss your lips fervently. Hands at your thighs massaging the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing ever so slightly where you need him most. All prior thoughts are forgotten as you reach for Bucky's belt, desperately removing all obstacles until you can easily slide your hand into his pants. You palm over the bulge in his boxers, stroking him through the fabric. Your eyes widen at the feel of his size causing him to grin at you wolfishly.

“Something the matter, doll?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Your confident tone provokes a deep rumble in Bucky’s throat. His hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more of your arousing touch. He pulls his pants and boxers down and off, freeing his cock. It springs forth, long and thick, the tip already glistening with precum. "Got me all worked up, baby. Just look at it—fuck," his voice is thick with lust, guiding your hand to wrap around his shaft. Your hand glides against him, causing him to let out a low grunt followed by the neediest moans. His nose brushes against yours as he tries not to entirely lose himself to the sheer pleasure that courses through him at your touch. 

Almost desperately, he leans in to capture your mouth again, kissing you deeply, his hips rocking into your hand at the rhythm of your movements. His flesh hand grabs the back of your neck to keep you close as he devours you, while his metal one trails up between your thighs—the coolness teasing the delicate skin—contrasting the heat that builds with the kiss. You moan into it, reveling in the feel of Bucky’s length in your hand as you stroke him slowly, becoming familiar with it. 

Bucky groans into your mouth, a resonant growl of pure want. His fingers go higher up your thighs until the cool metal grazes against your center, drawing out a whimper from you. Your thighs part further in response causing him to smirk against your lips. A smirk that falls into a ravenous hiss as his fingers brush your folds, the sick arousal coating them as he dips to circle your entrance teasingly—your hips bucking in response. 

“Bucky…” his name falls from your mouth with a carnal yearning that snaps Bucky's control entirely. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer to him—balancing you on the edge of the counter. He takes hold of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, the head brushing against your cunt. Your patience is nonexistent at this point. 

“Bucky, if you tell me to ask nicely I swear to ah—” Bucky cuts off your whiny gripe with one swift thrust, burying himself inside you until he fills you completely. “What was that?” his cheeky question does little to hide he’s just as overwhelmed with how good it feels as you are. Yet, with the cockiest grin, he drinks up your hazy expression as you adjust to his thickness. 

Something shifts inside him when you look at him with soft adoring eyes, filling his heart with a thing that can only be called love. It causes him to pepper kisses—gentle and tender—all over your face to help ease the achy stretch. You melt into them, so contrastingly soft to the prior ones that your heart does a little flip. The deeper feelings behind them not lost on you. Even more so when he whispers the sweetest words of devotion at every kiss. How beautiful you are, how good you feel, how good he wants to make you feel, how he’s dreamed of this, and so much more. All the meanwhile, his thumbs massage comforting circles into your hips. 

“There you go. Doing so good for me, doll,” he praises you when he starts to feel your hips slowly move against him—pleasure replacing the ache. He reciprocates your desire, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch until he goes as deep as possible once more—both of you calling out each other’s name by the time you’ve fully adjusted. 

It’s like this at first—slow and deep—dragging out each thrust to savor the sensation of intimacy. Breathy kisses with exchanged whispers blend with one another, your hands wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close. Fingers gently tugging on his brown locks at the nape of his neck, which only serves to drive him crazier. Making it hard for him to keep his restraint in check.

“Been dying to have you, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans out, continuing to bury himself deep into your welcoming heat. But it’s not enough—not for either of you. Not when it does little to help fully unleash all the pent-up hunger that has built up over the course of months. You feel it in the way Bucky grips your hips tight enough to leave bruises to ground himself, and he can feel it in the way your legs wrap around his hips and lock behind him—pushing him in impossibly deeper.

One of you is bound to break soon—and it won’t be you. 

You cup his face in your hands, eyes glazed over and needy as you tell him, “Bucky, don’t hold back. It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back,” you assure him, his pace faltering slightly. Bucky’s blue eyes search yours for a reason not to give in. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I don’t know if I can trust myself,” the vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, your thumbs gently caressing his face to soothe him. He instantly leans into your touch, the comfort it offers addicting. 

You shake your head, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, “You won’t. I trust you, Bucky. I told you—I can handle it, baby—please, baby,” at the term of endearment the rope of restraint inside Bucky snaps. You had never called him baby before, but now that you had Bucky wanted to know what else he had to do—or not do—to keep making you call him baby like that. 

“Keep calling me baby and you’ll get everything you want, beautiful,” Bucky nips at your bottom lip—eyes darkening—turning his pretty blues into a storm. One that’s ready to consume you. He grips your hips harder, picking up his pace until he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You meet his powerful thrusts with equal fervor, a stream of curses and sobs of his name falling from your lips. The counter beneath you shakes and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to break it, but the worry washes away instantly as it feels too good to give a damn. 

“Gonna keep marking you up, doll. Want everyone to see my pretty girl all marked up,” he growls, head dipping down to nip and suck on your neck. Bruising kisses strewn along the delicate skin of your collarbone until his teeth graze your shoulder. Your cunt throbs in time with the relentless onslaught of his cock—bodies synced in pure desire. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss, and every word is a brutal assault on your senses. All filled with his overwhelming want of you. 

“Bucky, s-so good, please…” you plead breathlessly for who knows what. Mind fuzzy and gone, only focusing on the searing pleasure in your veins. Bucky lets out a deep chuckle, lips finding their way to yours, metal hand snaking to palm your breast while his other keeps a tight grip on your hips.“Atta girl—taking me so well,” he grunts out, cunt fluttering at his praise, causing him to let out a half moan half chuckle. You’re close to finishing and he can feel it. 

“Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” Bucky commands, pounding into you with renewed vigor as he works to get you both to your releases. “Baby…I’m gonna…I’m close,” you whimper out and Bucky's response to you is immediate, his hips snapping forward even faster, harder. His metal hand lowers between your legs to apply pressure and circles to your clit. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the kitchen—the room forevermore ingrained with the actions of tonight. 

Your body bows off the counter as you scream out his name, your orgasm crashing over you with a hot intensity. Bucky keeps you close and steady, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice—triggering his climax. Bucky lets out a guttural growl of your name, biting down on your shoulder as his release pours out, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you. The intense contractions milking his shaft for all he’s worth. 

You collapse back onto the counter, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath—body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Bucky shudders from the force of his climax, cock twitching and pulsing as the last of his cum drips out. His upper body collapses on top of you, holding you close as his face buries into the crook of your neck, both of you trembling with the aftermath of your coupling. He trails loving kisses from your neck to your shoulder, not wanting to be apart from you. 

“You did so good, doll—my doll,” he mutters into your shoulder, kissing the area he had previously bitten, nuzzling the marks he left. You can only muster a breathless whimper as he gradually pulls out of you, your combined arousal spreading along the inner skin of your thighs and down onto the counter. He raises his head just enough to admire his handiwork—you, flushed and disheveled, with multiple bite marks and hickeys proudly displayed across your skin.

"I could get used to this—seeing you like this," Bucky says with a satisfied smirk, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. You let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah? I think I could too, baby…” You can feel the way his cock threatens to harden again, the look in his eyes warning you to not push it. He lowers his mouth onto yours again in a hopeless attempt to silence you. 

“Doll, you can’t say it like that. I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“What about the party, baby?”

That about does it for Bucky. 

“Screw the party. I’d rather show my pretty girl, my baby—a good time here,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath hot and uneven as he picks you up from the counter. You giggle out a gasp as he carries you over to his bedroom where he does indeed show you a good time—a great time, in fact, all night long. 

Happy Halloween to you. 

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[totally-here]

dpxdc twins au except it's no-pulse flavored

Bart’s new roommate looks a lot like Tim. 

Like, suspiciously like Tim. 

Danny’s the same height, has the same shape of nose, same shade of hair, and even frowns like him. He would have been a perfect copy if he acted more like Tim, but Danny definitely holds himself looser than Bart’s ever seen Tim. 

But he still has his face. So, obviously, Bart has to investigate. Maybe he’s a clone, or a shapeshifter, or maybe one of the Gotham rogues decided to get facial reconstruction surgery to look like him, and this was all a ploy. 

Okay, probably not that last one. Bart doesn’t think Tim’s enemies know his identity. 

Anyway, investigation! Bart’ll figure this out himself, and deal with it if Danny needs to be dealt with. And the investigation will start right after he comes up with an excuse as to why he’s back in their third floor apartment when he passed Danny in the hallway a few seconds before. 

Danny stares at him, and Bart stares back. 

“Must’ve been a doppelganger!” Bart blurts out. 

Danny’s silent for a second before nodding enthusiastically and noting that everyone's supposed to have like seven in the world anyway and wow what a wild coincidence that there’s one in their building. 

Bart extends the same courtesy when a week later he walks in on Danny with an iced over pan on the stove. Danny says they should really get their freezer checked out and Bart agrees and asks if he can use the ice for a painting study. 

(They never get their freezer checked.)

Bart finds that Danny’s great at setting up fun things for him to draw, whether he knows it or not. Like the ice, or his collection of rocks, his astronomy textbooks with the pretty covers, his gestures as he rants about his classes, the excited glint in his eyes when he’s talking about his next repair project and how his eyes almost look like they glow in the right light. 

Hm. A good portion of his sketchbook is drawings of Danny, and yet he’s still having trouble with getting the right blue for his eyes. At first glance they’re Tim’s shade of blue, but when he keeps looking they seem to get lighter. Maybe greener?

He should probably stop staring into his friend’s eyes. 

Well, maybe not. Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 

Just like he doesn’t mind when they started regularly sitting very close on the couch, or falling asleep together, or Bart borrowing some of his jackets, or-

Okay, Bart’s kinda seeing a pattern. He and Danny should really have a conversation about if this is platonic behavior or not. 

But not right now, because Bart brought Danny across the river to raid Wally’s board game closet in Keystone. 

And Wally, who’s used to this, just passes by them with a, “Hey Bart, hey Tim.”

“Danny, not Tim,” Danny replies almost absent mindedly, then looks back at Wally, who’s also staring at him now. “Wait, you know Tim?”

“OhmyGod I was supposed to investigate!” Bart says, face palming. It just slipped his mind! And Danny was distracting him with his pretty face that he totally wears better than Tim!

“You know him too?” Danny asks. But he doesn’t look suspicious of them, more amused. 

“How do you know him?” Wally squints at Danny, eyes briefly catching Bart’s in question. 

“He’s my twin,” Danny answers easily. “The Drakes only wanted one kid, so they gave me to their friends the Fentons, who wanted a second one.” He shrugs and goes back to digging around the closet. “Tim and I were always in contact, though. Letters and phone calls and texting, you know?” 

He says it all so casually while Wally and Bart are sharing increasingly concerned looks behind his back. 

Do the Waynes know about Danny? Has Tim never brought him up? Why? Does Danny know about Red Robin? Does Tim-

“Holy shit does this mean Tim has ice powers too!?” 

Or: Tim and Danny are twins. Through a series of coincidences, the first people to find out that aren’t Fentons or Drakes are the flashes.

(This post was brought to you by me recently finishing the 1995 Impulse run, and wanting an excuse to share this panel:

Look they both got called twinks clearly they're soulmates)

[vesearlee]

──── 𝑵𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

Time was something precious. It could never be stopped in the cycle it remained loyal to, just as your devotion to him could be questioned — only evident by the small bloom that caught the sun’s rays, steadfast and unmelting in the warmth of it. 

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Zayne x F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 965 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Fluff, Zayne and his workaholic tendencies 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐀 ── @sgt-seabass 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ── Éphémère by Tony Anderson 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ── I did not tear up writing this, I swear. HE JUST DESERVES ALL OF THE SOFTNESS! also, my first post in an entirely new fandom, not to mention the most I have written in months. oh boy.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ── Multifandom Bingo (@multifandom-flash) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Tears of Awe ── MASTERLIST ── Under The Sea Bingo (@seasonaldelightsbingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Soft Love ── MASTERLIST ── Medical Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Whispered Sweet Nothings • N5 ── MASTERLIST

─── 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ───

It was a rare occurrence that you had a day off — the schedule of both your work and commitments on hold for one singular day so you could recoup and recover some much needed vitality, but naturally, there would always be a hitch in your plans to lounge in bed and catch up on some needed binging. 

The hitch himself strode proudly at a pace that had you walking just behind his shoulder. The fabric of his coat sleeve was cool in your palm as you held the inner crook of his elbow while he led you through corridor after corridor, the atmosphere of the administration level of the hospital bustling and loud as the day began before the sun even rose over the horizon of Linkon City. 

“Chief.” 

“Doctor.” 

“Sir.” 

Greetings and inclinations of respect from the staff were answered with courteous nods from your company; followed by a small smile from you when their gazes inevitably drifted towards you, many of which were returned with shy waves of hello. 

You looked at his profile and smirked slightly. “You know, Dr. Zayne–” He rolled his eyes. “You could smile at them.” 

“If you wish.” Zayne’s expression turned impassive as he pointedly ignored and walked around a gathering flock of interns, all of who looked awestruck at seeing the chief of surgery with their very own eyes. 

Behind you, they tittered and watched on as you kept pace with him. “I can see it now,” you continued to tease, “they’ll all flock around you and fawn—just what you want, isn’t it?”

His elbow moved and squeezed your hand against his side. “Sure.” The familiar and wide, wood-pannelled door of his office came into view. 

You giggled quietly at Zayne’s reply, knowing full well if you were not in public, he would be making you pay for teasing him. The click of the door opening drew your attention, and he gestured you inside wordlessly. 

It was an expansive space, the outer wall opposite to the door was roof to half-wall glass that ended on a broad shelf. Trinkets of all sizes from his travels were neatly lined or stacked on the surface, and plants in decorative pots glowed orange with the rays of the morning sun that hid behind a blind. 

Soft footsteps followed behind you and towards Zayne’s desk. The room was suddenly bathed in light as the blinds opened, and Zayne cleared his throat as he set down his briefcase atop one of the few cabinets beneath the window. 

Moving towards the plush double couch in the corner of the room, you placed your bag next to the adjacent marble coffee table, humming a tune quietly while you listened to Zayne prepare for his rounds. 

The bookshelf to the right of the couch where you would lounge for the day was stained black, and the white sets of books stood out starkly from the contrast, when your gaze found a small, glass jar you had never noticed before. It was a sweet, new addition to the shelf, and it was almost inconspicuous. 

Except from the singular Jasmine bloom encased in ice. 

You could only smile softly while tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Knowing full well that it was you who gave it to him as a token of affection when you both were only young. “After all this time, you kept it?” you asked quietly, not turning to look at Zayne. 

“Yes,” he answered after a brief pause. His voice was reverent, and you could hear the longing in his tone. “It remains there so when I see it, I am always reminded of you.”

Silence fell at his statement, and you blinked away the slight burn in your eyes. Who knew he was so sentimental, you joked internally. 

“You should stop working so much.” Your words sounded slightly strained, and you coughed once to clear your throat, careful to keep your back to Zayne as you continued to stare at the flower. “If you did,” you continued, “we could have stayed in bed. Maybe even had breakfast in bed, with croissants, macaroons.”

Zayne chuckled and sighed, then you felt his gaze on your back. You turned to face him, pouting slightly. “I’m just saying! Being a workaholic–”

“If I remember correctly,” Zayne interrupted, and your mouth closed on a retort. “You were the one that insisted on spending the day with me, even when I assured you it would bore you beyond belief while waiting for me to be done.” A small black pen, a singular frosted glass bead on the end, was tucked into his coat pocket with a small huff of laughter. “You very well knew that I would be busy today.”

You lifted your chin in defiance. “Yes, I did. I don’t care if I bore myself to tears because at least I would be with you.” A pause. “Even if you’re in and out, I don’t care.”

A slight smile, barely there, graced his lips, and his eyes shone in the now yellowing light from the sun’s rays. “Ever so stubborn.” 

“And so what if I am?”

Zayne’s coat rustled as he adjusted it over his shoulders, his gaze never leaving yours. The tag attached to the chest pocket proudly blazed Chief Surgeon and Cardiology in bold text. “Well, there is truly only one thing to say.” He sidestepped his desk and walked towards you. “It means you are my ever stubborn darling, hmm?”

“That’s what I thought,” you huffed, crossing your arms. 

“Keep yourself entertained, darling,” Zayne said quietly, his thumb and forefinger gripping your chin. “I will stop in when I can—how does lunch sound?”

You nodded, and then felt the soft brush of Zayne’s lips on your forehead. “I will see you soon.”

[shirefantasies]

Hi 🍄your work is so incredible! You’re literally keeping my hobbit/Tolkien hyper-fixation alive. I was wondering if you would want to write a first kiss situation with thorins company/hobbit characters? I hope your surgery goes well and you have a easy and speedy recovery!

Thank you what an honor omg!!! Man the surgery itself was ok but everything after was NOT IT 😭 so glad to be doing better now! This is a great idea & I sure do want to write it🫡😁 sorry it took so long because this request is apparently like 5 months old 🥲

Warning: loooooong post lololol, minor blood/injury mentions, some suggestive jokes/moments, corny at times hehe

Your First Kiss With the Hobbit Characters

Balin

“You can’t keep running off like that, you know.” Fingers closed around your wrist, but not so tightly as to provide entrapment, rather a secure anchor. Secure as the comfort of Balin’s deep brown gaze, something deep sparkling in his eyes you could never find elsewhere. Beads of sweat slid down your back as your breathing slowed, the adrenaline of battle washing away. Balin knew that feeling, saw it in you. “I know,” you answered, chest falling with a hard exhale, “But I can hardly leave everyone resigned to their fate when I can help.” It was then Balin’s turn to sigh. “I know, too,” he told you, rotating his grip around your wrist so the back of your hand was enveloped in his palm, “I suppose I am just being selfish.” Some number of seconds of you gaping passed before you managed to stutter out three words. “Does that mean…?” “Aye,” was all he said as he squeezed your hand, glancing down until you cupped his cheek, bringing his gaze back into yours before tugging him into your lips for one last adrenaline wave.

Dwalin

"You?" "Were you expecting Mahal himself?" You chirp in response, leaning on your hand and giving Dwalin a catlike smile. Unfazed, he continues. "What are you doing here?" "What do you think?" You answer with a question of your own, this one far less teasing. Softer. "You can't keep coming back. This is dangerous." Dangerous, he says as if it is not he who lies in a healer's tent with a broken arm freshly set and Valar know how many other bandages. Pain and pity cross your expression as you peer down at the warrior, rest your palm over his tattooed hand. "I can't lose you, too," he adds, gaze drifting from yours and eyelashes fluttering downward sheepishly, "You are far too precious. Too pure." Rosy glow overtakes you, shining outward through your smile and into your fingers, which spread to interlock with Dwalin's. "And too foolish, I suppose, for you, Master Dwalin, will never be rid of me. Do not let yourself be taken by such folly, for nothing is purer than you deserve, my hero." You feel his hand flex beneath you; his eyes finally flicker back upward before darting back shut as he leans up, cupping your cheek with his free hand. You taste salt and breaths of anticipation, war, relief, and love all in one. Pure indeed.

Thorin

A gasp startled you out of your dazed stare into the night, fire flickering at your back as you watched over empty hills. Turning your back to it, you returned your attention to those whom you presided over, protected for the night. The sight of Thorin bolting upright gave you pause, but soon you were at his side. “Are you alright?” “…Yes.” The king-to-be would not meet your eyes, his gaze falling into the shadows the fire cast upon his countenance. “Look at me.” Your command alone was enough to snap his head up; never had you spoken so to him or used do broken a tone. Thorin’s brows furrowed. “Worry not. It was just a dream.” “That was no dream,” you shot back, all but whispering. “No.” Thorin smiled wryly. “Sometimes it all comes back. I see it in the night when I cannot fight. I am helpless to it all. They cannot be saved. Then I wake and I wonder if it is to be so.” “No,” you laid your hand over his, “This weight is not yours alone. All of us are here with you, right? I am here with you.” A genuine smile crossed Thorin’s face, a shake of his head in wonder followed by a slow nod. “Thank you.” “Of course,” you answer. As you shifted, Thorin tightened his grip on your hand. “Stay.” “I will,” you told him, “I will.” “Good.” Not another word passed between your lips before they connected, passing over each other in moonlit words unspoken.

Oin

You hadn't even realized you were wounded at first. Shock overtaking you, you had run across the battlefield in pursuit of your comrades, only for them to gape and point at the blood seeping from your leg. You were fine, you assured them, but having none of it they hoisted you up over one shoulder each and dragged you over to a healer's tent, by which point a sharp sting had begun coursing up the expanse of your right leg. You were lowered down onto the tent's cushion-lain floor with it extended, and only when you looked up were you made aware of the familiar face before you. "Oin!" At your exclamation, the healer looked up and gave such a smile of recognition that your heart flipped. He spoke your name, too, although he did not match your enthusiasm, instead calling out with worry. "It's all right," you reassured him, "Not much more than a scratch." Rolling up your trouser leg, though, Oin winced at the blood before he began cleaning it. His bearded face fell into something much more serious than you were used to; for once he wasn't joking around as the jolly dwarf you knew and loved. That facade, the great focus, lasted the entire time he tended to you in fact. His hands were so dedicated and gentle as they worked over your torn skin. Upon completing your bandaging, he peered t you, dark eyes now intent upon yours. "You'll be fine." "Were you worried?" You couldn't help chuckling a bit. No healer were you, but the wound was nowhere near grievous or life-threatening. "Of course I was," Oin agreed without hesitation, "You know how much I care about you, don't you?" "I-" Lips parting, you stuttered for a moment. In your hesitation, Oin's hand found yours and gently brought you closer until his lips hit yours, beard tickling your cheeks. "Maybe now you do," he told you, smiling as you separated, "Now get some rest, alright?"

Gloin

“If you two do not stop acting like children," Gloin called to the princes, "We will treat you like children!” “What’ll you do,” Kili countered with crossed arms, smiling at his older brother, “Put us in the corner?” “We absolutely will,” you chimed in, mirroring the younger prince’s posture, “With pleasure, you ruffians!" "You two are like an old married couple," Fili tutted, shaking his head. "That's right," you agreed, grabbing Gloin's face with both hands and yanking him into a quick kiss that had one prince whooping and one calling out in disgust as they ran off. "What in Mahal's name was that?" Gloin asked you as you separated, auburn brows raised in distinct spite of the fact you'd felt him kiss you back. "Sorry, too much? I knew it'd scare them off. Might make them talk as well, though." "I wanted to kiss you first!" Gloin complained, pouting beneath his beard and prompting you to giggle as he took your hand, ready to make a more serious confession.

Bifur

Feet thudding against the ground, you ignored the shocks to your ankles and sprinted further. Dust clouds kicked up, but you clamped your mouth shut and ran, scanning across the black splatters of orcs’ blood and sheens of fallen blades. None of it stopped until you caught the sight of familiar braids, of black hair spilling out beneath a head trickling blood. “Bifur…” You whispered. He took your hand, gazing up at you with sad eyes. Muttered something faintly in Khuzdul…did you catch the word love? Your answer came in the way he leaned to press your forehead against his, ignoring the fresh wound and the axe still embedded in it. “I’ll take care of you,” you promised, “I love you.” Your lips met with all the passion of admission and promise and hope of recovery.

Bofur

“Come on now, won’t you have a drink?” You reached out a hand, wrapping it around the tankard over Bofur’s own gloved fingers, though you didn’t accept it straightaway. Instead, you kept your hand where it was and leaned in over the liquor. “Are you trying to get me tipsy, sir?” You teased. “Why, what’ll you do if you do get tipsy?” Bofur shot back with a playful, lopsided grin. “Use your imagination,” you replied, loosening your grip on the tankard and subsequently Bofur’s hand. The dwarf, however, was not giving up so easily. “Well, as a tipsy person myself, I suppose I would imagine something like this.” Tugging your hand back into his, Bofur ignored the tankard completely in favor of pressing his lips to yours, his mustache tickling your cheeks as you surrendered to the reverie of his lips’ sweet dominance. When you finally pull away, you both wore his playful look. “Alright, now I’m trying to get you tipsier,” you told him.

Bombur

“Wait, come back!” For a moment you thought you would finally get to thank the mysterious gifter of sweets, the one who left baskets of baked goods at the edges of your garden. Always tied with a different patterned bow, this time a gold-edged ribbon of maroon. Standing up, you’d made to follow the sound of footsteps only to see a form rounding the corner, just a wide bit of cloak trailing. “Please!” You turned around one way then whipped back the other when a skidding scraped the walls of your ears. Facing you was a very stocky, flaming-haired dwarf with his hands folded politely in front of him and rocking on his heels. "Since you said please," he said, his voice simple and sweet and a little bit scared. "I've really wanted to meet you," you told him, stepping forward, "To thank you." “Are you disappointed now?” Your gifter asked. “I promise I can do more than bake, I can fight, I will fight for-” Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shook your head. “You’re sweet enough for me just as you are. Never before have I had a secret admirer- someone who went to so much effort. That alone is amazing. Enough.” “You’re too sweet for me.” Pulling him closer by the hand upon his shoulder, you pressed a little kiss to his lips. “Just. Enough. Now, can I know my baker’s name?”

Dori

Of all the company members, only one of them supplied you with a spool of his own thread. Thick thread glittering with slivers of metallic sheen interwoven between lighter strips of the tiny cords. "So it matches the rest of my coat, you know," Dori explained, eyes flitting a bit sheepishly. "Ah," you set down your usual spool, a plainer brownish roll you'd just been using on one of Kili's pockets, "I see." You'd barely glanced up from your work, from ensuring you did not strike the thimble upon your finger, until you noticed the way Dori wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I…I know I’m a lot to deal with,” he said, “But it’s just that I know how I like things! I can’t help it.” “I do not think you’re a lot to deal with,” you replied, giving the dwarf your fully undivided attention, “I would be happy to deal with you.” The way his blue eyes widened, you could tell Dori was nowhere near expecting such a response, natural as it came to you. “Would you really?” “More than happy,” you added with a nod. “Well,” he fiddled with his hands, shifting closer to where you sat, “I would be more than happy to care for you in return.” “You already do,” you told him, eyelashes fluttering, “That is what I love about you.” Your allure got to Dori then, all glitter of threads fading in favor of your eyes, which he fell into, and your lips, which he leaned into.

Nori

“Get back here!” Chasing after Nori, you called out to the dwarf, who looked back over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. Of all things, he’d chosen to nick your undergarments, the fiend. Of course. Wheeling about, Nori ran up to a large rock and jumped up to the top of it, finally towering over you. He leaned down, your undergarments clutched triumphantly in his gloved hand as your noses nearly brushed. You could feel the warmth of his breath upon your face as you gazed upward, frown faltering and words failing at this new development. Nori, of course, still looked quite smug and had no trouble speaking. Remaining exactly where he was, he remarked, "Well, this is fun, isn't it?" "No," you answered, arms crossed, "It is not. Give those back!" "You're gonna have to make me, hm?" Fine. Two could play at that game. Frustration roiled in your chest, a fire burning as you eyes met Nori's. This whole charade had you quite ready to sacrifice whatever shred of dignity you had left to fight scoundrel with scoundrel. Taking the dwarf roughly by the collar, you yanked him into you and joined your lips. He fought back quickly, far less stunned and more passionate than you'd have expected. You were happy to escalate...at least until your hand slid down, felt his relax and drop the stolen article entirely. Jackpot. All but shoving Nori back, you mirrored his earlier smirk as you strode away, taking your turn to triumphantly brandish your undergarments. "Thank you, sir."

Ori

On the edge of your seat is the only phrase you could use to describe your position as you leaned over to watch Ori's work, the way his thick fingers slid so lightly over paper, creating shadows and the faintest of lines with subtle variations in that gentle pressure. Your eyes darted between his hand and his profile, staring as if keeping the focus in those brown eyes burning with the heat of your gaze. It is amazing that Ori can do that; you tell him as much. "Want to try?" He invites, profile swiveling to face you. "I can show you." You gave a nod, reaching out a hand in anticipation of pencil's weight. Thus it fell, but around your newly-filled palm his hand closed, coarse and warm fabric closing yours and lowering it to the paper. Several layered flushes of joy radiated through you as Ori glided you around, completing the lines of leaves upon a tree. "How's that?" An uncertain amount of time passed before he turned again to face you, this time inches from you given your shift and joined hands. "...Good?" The hitch of his breath and the quietening of his voice snapped something in you. Ori, too, for he leaned in and met you halfway through the inches, his lips connecting softly, joyously, to yours, only intensifying that soaring feeling.

Fili

"What's wrong?" "Can't sleep." "So you thought you'd bother me instead?" "Bother you?" You feigned offense. "Is that what my presence does?" "Your presence, no," Fili shook his head, "The way you keep kicking at my boots? Needless to say, yes." Grinning wickedly from your seated position, you gently darted out your foot to nudge his again, leading the dwarf to lean down to your level. "Do you want us all to get in danger? Is that it? I'm on watch, you know. You're risking the lives of all of us by distracting me." "Is that so?" "So it is." Nudge. This time, your foot slid along the length of his boot's side after you gave him your little kick. "That's it." Whirling around, mustache braids swishing with the motion, the golden-haired prince knelt down, his face inches from yours. "If you don't stop, I'll make you." Backing down was not in your vocabulary. "Make me," you commanded, voice low and expression smug and satisfied as ever. Before you could get another breath in Fili's lips were crashing onto yours, his facial hair tickling your cheeks in contrast to the hard, fast contact you made. His legs quickly wrapped around your waist, entrapping you beneath him as he cupped your cheeks in his hands, diving deeper and exploring your depths as far as he could for what felt like minutes until you finally parted for need of air. Fili's light blue eyes pierced yours intently, hungrily, as you stared back at him with much greater satisfaction than ever. "You're risking the lives of us all getting distracted," you repeated his words back to him, tracing a finger along one of his coat flaps. "I'll risk my life for you any day," Fili replied, cupping your cheek again and pulling you close, this time for a much slower, sweeter kiss that finally, finally, had you speechless.

Kili

“I’m bored,” you half-jokingly whined, eyes rolling back to look at Kili from the log you had draped yourself along. Straddling the log, he turned, leaning down to fix you with that glittering brown stare you loved. “What do you want me to do, hm?” Heart flipping, you swallowed, but painted a flippant smile across your face. “Entertain me.” “Entertain you?” He repeated, his own expression blooming with mischief. “Lot of ways I can do that.” “Well,” you crossed your arms, blood rushing to your head just as much from him as your upside-down position, “Choose one, then.” “Alright,” Kili hovered closer, his breath fanning your already-heated cheeks, “Let me know how this works, then.” The moment his lips crashed into yours, you responded, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his flowing black locks, which had a few leaves caught in them but still remained soft. As you gave them a little tug, Kili parted your lips for deeper entrance. You enjoyed your upside-down kiss right up to the moment you parted for breath, panting as he smirked down at you. “Still bored?”

Bilbo

Fog overtook the corners of your mind, dusting all your intents and purposes with a haze of questions. What were you doing in such a musty old place anyway? A voice at your side expressed a need for air. Why, you wondered as you jumped, startlement pumping pure adrenaline into your blood, were you with someone with a piece of axe blade protruding out of his head? Would the same happen to you? No, he was important, wasn't he? Think, think... Before you could get much thinking done, a hand clasped around yours. This time, the warm weight didn't have you jumping as far but it did pull you along, right along to the edges of the trees where you found yourself climbing after... Bilbo! Bilbo, the hobbit, the burglar, of course! The higher up you went, the more your lungs swelled and your head steadied with relief. How could you have been scared of sweet Bifur or not recognized Bilbo? Laughter sounded a bit above you; climbing faster, you burst from the treetops and squinted as you met the sun. Joined Bilbo's sweet mirth of relief and wonderment as light scattered over the clouds, illuminating the wings of gorgeous blue butterflies streaming out of the rustling leaves. "This is beautiful," you remarked, forgetting yourself and all the troubles of the forest as suddenly as they'd come on. "I'm glad you came with me," Bilbo told you softly. Turning away from the butterflies, you faced him only to see his grey eyes peering at you with the most utter sincerity. Had he drawn closer? A wave of emotion crashed over you, cresting as you closed the gap completely, feeling him gasp against your lips before he dove in himself. Sweet, gentlemanly, Bilbo never forced entry, his focus dedicated to a loving embrace of your lips alone. Giggling like a schoolchild as you pulled away, you grinned at the hobbit, whose expression you could only describe as starstruck. "I... am very glad you came with me," he remarked.

Thranduil

The king needed no advisors. Long had it been since he would have desired them, but concerns had grown and Thranduil did nothing if not care ruthlessly for his people. Thus, members of the nobility like yourself had come together as a council for the Woodland Realm’s ruler. Thranduil had been willing to listen, but your words grated against his like a block sharpening a blade; it seemed as though your every policy fought his in some way. Twice the meeting devolved into the two of you going back and forth across the table from your seats, which were quite unfortunately directly opposite one another. Such a scene it had felt to be that the king tarried in his room of council to speak to you at meeting’s end. “Do you take some form of issue with me?” Looking confident as you had in the meeting, you crossed your arms, smirking. “I take issue with your policies.” Thranduil must confess that in that moment he was shocked by the opposition, brows raising at your bold statement. “And you think you know what is best for our people?” “Maybe I do. They put me on your council, after all.” “You,” with great resounding taps the king crosses the room to stand before you, his face mere inches from yours, “would have us put at great risk right as we hit a point of prosperity.” “I would have us realize the threats at hand,” you replied cooly, tilting your head but balking not at all from the proximity. Thranduil moves ever so much closer, shaking his head and almost brushing his nose against yours with the motion. “Reckless warmongering.” “Hiding in fear,” you challenge back, smirking. “Do you wish to be shown your place?” “Do you need to ask?” A guard crossed briefly into the room, soft address of ‘my king’ dying upon his shortened breath at the sight of said ruler embroiled in a passionate battle for lingual dominance against one of his councilors.

Bard

You were never sure how the bowman felt about you. Certainly he was friendly and enjoyed spending time with you enough, but to what end? Perhaps you were doomed to live a life upon the edge of questioning. And yet the worst part was, you had yet to discover why you didn't entirely mind. Why, in fact, you found yourself in his barge once again, paddling out beyond the horizon of cobbled together buildings leaning into each other. Just as you could lean further into the thick brown furs of Bard's coat, perhaps even feeling it against your cheek as you lean against his shoulder. As it was, you simply stood at his invitation to take up steering, moving to the other side of the boat. Unbeknownst to you, however, Bard had left one of his fishing nets on the floor; shoe’s edge catching on the tightly connected loops of rope, you tumbled forward and made an unfortunate pitch into the cold lake. Swirling into the water and kicking back up through it did not last long, and soon Bard’s hand reached out to grab yours and pull you back into shivering safety. “Are you hurt?” He asked, hands hovering over your folded legs, the ankle you’d caught. Heart swelling over the look of concern in his dark eyes, all you could do was shake your head. Folding himself, Bard dropped to his knees at your side. “Good. I was worried about you.” “You were?” You asked dumbly, ready to blame shock over such a foolish question. You needed not, though, could not- not when his lips fell immediately upon yours.

Beorn

Neighbors minded their own business. This was a simple fact of making one's home out in the far woods, out also where more and more orcs and foul things had begun to roam. Thus you had always been left to wonder who the owner of the wonderful cottage you passed by was, never seeing a single soul beyond the great deal of livestock and pleasantly plump bees flitting about the immaculately-tended flowers. Was it a woman? A man? Some sort of trap like in the old tales where places and faces so fair were always the deadliest? But who, then, would be twisted enough to craft a trap so admittedly perfect in your mind... Such thoughts did not penetrate the desperation clouding your mind the day your beloved cow, the one you'd had from a young age, strained with the aching struggle of a birth gone wrong, your feet carrying you straight to your neighbor's door. If she died, you would lose a major source of subsistence alongside one of your few friends in the whole lonely woods. The look in her big brown eyes was all you could see as you rapped on the door, your look of pleading meeting yet another big brown stare, this time upon a man with a stern face and a great mass of brown hair. Brows furrowed in confusion and perhaps slight annoyance as they were, he had no chance to speak ill before you were begging him to come help your cow, you'd seen the shape his were in after all and you could tell they were loved, please, you needed his strength- she did. The unspoken promise that the man would see you this once, then never again, hung in the air as you led him to your home, to your pasture, to the dear friend whose life he saved. “Thank you, truly,” you told him as he made to leave, “You may not wish it, but you are welcome here anytime.” Before he could say anything, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Not realizing, of course, that he was turning his head, connecting your lips for the briefest of moments before you stared at him wide-eyed. “You might see me again,” he told you with a small, wry smile.

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[ramp-it-up]

Sugar, Cubed

Photo found on Pinterest

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. How do you choose? And do you have to?

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, little bit of slow burn. Main character injury, allusions to sex, sexual tension, indecent proposal, caught between two lovers trope, idiots in love, Tony being Tony, truth or dare, talk of voyeruism, possibility of group sex, eventual polyandry.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part one, part two will be posted next week. I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

You met the two most hated men in your life while you were living together as recipients of the prestigious Stark STEM Fellowship at NYU.

There was an instant spark when you met James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers, best friends from childhood. They sarcastically named you Sugar because of your initial rudeness, but the nickname just stuck around after you warmed up to them.

In the Stark Fellows program, life was hard work and hard play. Soon it was down to just you, Bucky and Steve, and life was a dream with parties, booze, and almost anything you wanted, as long as you lent your minds to the work.

Tony Stark tolerated anything that would keep productivity high. He knew that all work and no play would make Bucky, Sugar and Steve dull scientists.

So he encouraged you three to play. And funded it too.

Steve and Bucky were so protective of you, their sweet Sugar. The sexual tension that came with living with them was heady stuff.

You basked in the glow of Bucky and Steve's attention, while observant of the lines of partners at their bedroom doors and the competitiveness between the football quarterback and lacrosse captain.

You swore that neither Bucky nor Steve would ever win you, no matter the plays they made. But they each had you sprung in different ways. And they were so damn competitive.

They both wanted your heart.

It was only a matter of time before you gave it to each of them.

You fell hard for Bucky first. And it was urgent and intense.

But after just a year together, Bucky accepted a position with Stark Labs in Bucharest for a term that stretched into two years as he completed grad school at Politehnica. It happened without warning. You were angry at his choice and trapped in New York by your own contract with Stark for graduate work. 

You and Bucky were over. And you were heartbroken.

Steve’s waiting arms were open, and it was effortless and freeing to realize that the golden boy was the one who truly loved you. And he’d always been there. Your heart healed. You thought.

According to social media, Bucky seemed to love his new location, extending his contract beyond the initial year-long contract to finish his degree. It seemed that all he did was work.

Not that you were stalking his IG or anything.

He didn’t communicate with you directly, and with Steve only intermittently. It was like he’d erased his best friend and his best girl from his life. 

It made sense, since his best girl was now his best friend’s girl.

Then, during his second year, Bucky's stay in Romania was cut short,  he came back to New York, although not in the way you imagined.

Bucky had been critically injured; losing a limb. Tony made sure he had the best care, flying with Bucky to Wakanda for experimental surgery and overseeing his recovery. 

You found out via a social media after Bucky was back in town, and not from Tony or anyone else.

You were livid.

You raged at Steve, who had lied to you that he had to go to London for two weeks for work when he was actually in Wakanda at Bucky’s bedside.

The betrayal ran deep.

You and Steve were done after that, although you continued to work side by side at the labs. You felt as if Tony was trying to drive you over the edge, having you work around the clock with your ex. But he didn’t care. He had some insane theory that the tension would yield better results.

Each day, you longed for the hour that you could go to your posh new quarters in Stark tower. Although it was lonely, at least your apartment was private, and you could unwind in peace. Your days were tense, but predictable.

Until they weren’t anymore.

——

One afternoon, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stared into the monitor to watch the results from the latest compound analysis roll numbers across your workstation.

“Hey there, Sugar.”

You froze, looking up and out over Manhattan through the window above your station. You couldn’t believe it, but you saw a pale reflection of him in the mirrored glass.

You slowly turned around.

Bucky looked good, his pale complexion not all the result of the blue gray skies over the Hudson. His face had grown more angular, his hair was shorter, and his eyes seemed older, but outside, he was the same Bucky. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting. 

Bucky Barnes seemed whole, except his left hand, the “golden arm” that was the pride of Bobcat football, was now black and gold metal. 

Vibranium. 

You stared at it as it reached for you.

“So I don’t get a hug?” 

Your eyes moved to his face while Steve cleared his throat and reminded you that he was there. You tried to forget his existence most days, but Bucky walking into your lab had erased him from your mind completely. For a moment.

“Sugar–”

You cut him off.

“Fuck you, Grant.” 

You looked back at Bucky with tears in your eyes.

“And fuck you, James.”

Despite your epithets, you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing with emotion.

“How could you…?”

You whispered it into his suit coat, your fingers digging into the material at his back as you cried into his shoulder. Bucky held you tight against him, and he felt harder, more solid. 

You realized that under all of the anger and hurt, you were mainly just relieved that he was alive.

Over two years of anxiety and unprocessed feelings were coming out, and Bucky rocked you as your body heaved. Steve came up behind you and hugged you both.

For a minute you relished the feeling, being held by the only two men that you ever had feelings for. You felt safe. But then you remembered the secrets and the lies, and anger flooded you again. You twisted out of their grasp.

“Don’t get any ideas, assholes.”

You moved away from them and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly cold.

“Do you know how worried I was? No one gave me any information. At all. I had to find out from social media. I felt like a fool, Bucky.”

You scowled at him.

“And you. You knew that, Cap. And you lied to my fucking face.”

You glared at Steve.

You looked from Steve to Bucky, who shared a guilty glance with each other. 

“That’s my fault, Sugar. I– I made Tony and Steve swear not to tell you.”

Your dark haired ex boyfriend looked at his shoes as he rubbed the back of his neck with his new hand. He held it up and looked at it and then at you.

“Didn’t know how you would feel about this.”

You ignored the uncertainty and hurt in his eyes.

"What do you want? A cookie? A pat on the head?  A tear? You are not going to make me feel sorry for you. Not when you let everyone else but me in on your secret."

You cocked your head and gazed curiously at the new appendage, then back at him.

“Bucky, I am stronger than you think. And I loved you.”

Both Steve and Bucky winced at the word ‘loved,’ but both for different reasons.

“I would have accepted you anyway you came. And I would have been by your side while you recovered. But you didn’t want that. But it looks as if you’re fine.” 

Steve sat back down at his workstation, resigned. You shook your head at him. If it wouldn’t have cost you a million dollars, which you didn’t have, you would have walked out of Stark Industries and moved across the world. But you had work to do.

“You’re interrupting our work here. You need to leave.”

You wanted him away from you like fire.

“That’s what I’m tryna tell you, Doll.” 

Bucky strolled over to the locker area and took off his coat, grabbing goggles and a lab coat.

“I’m reporting for duty. Tony assigned me back to the New York lab.”

—-

Tony leaned against the bar in his office, after he downed the drink that he’d offered you and that you’d refused. It was only 10:46 am. You were trying to hand in your resignation. Or at least ask for a transfer to a new location.

“And just where do you think you’re going to go, Sugar?”

You glared at your boss. Bolstered by anger, this was the least intimidated, and most angry, you’d ever been at him.

“Paris, maybe? Tokyo? Hell, even Des Moines. I’ll take anything. I need space.”

Tony shook his head. 

“I need you here. The productivity with Barnes back is about to be through the roof.”

You just stared at him incredulously.

“You’re not thinking with your brain. Your heart and what is pounding between your legs are in the way.” 

Your mouth dropped open.

“...But the tension between you Barnes and Rogers will make me a lot of money. I’ve studied you since your freshman year. I know what makes you tick, what motivates you to do your best work. And the numbers don’t lie. Being right in the middle of Bucky and Cap makes lots of money for Stark Industries.”

You stared out at the view of New Jersey, outraged.

“Besides. I have the exclusive contract over your mind, body, and soul for the next seven years. Might as well make the most of it.”

You sighed and took the drink Tony offered you this time.

—-

Bucky Barnes was the most infuriating man you’d ever met, second only to Steve Rogers.

Your brain was scrambled when you weren’t working, so you worked that much harder to stay in control. You hated when Tony was right.

Here you were, flanked by two gorgeous men whose work clothes only accentuated their powerful bodies. Bodies that you knew very well. Your tongue had traced every plane of each of them. Your hands explored their broad shoulders and taught, muscular frames. Your fists had clenched their throbbing cocks and you had accepted them inside you. 

No matter how mad you were at them, you couldn’t get them out of your mind.

Imagining Bucky crashing his lips to yours as he backed you up against a wall made your core throb. And dreaming about Steve’s hands around your thighs as he lifted you onto a lab table made your nipples tingle.

Working in between them in the lab was torture for your neglected body and soul. You were doomed to work in  between the two men who’d fucked you most thoroughly and recently.

You didn’t even want to think about your heart.

You ignored the lingering looks in their blue eyes, the way they gentled their voices when they spoke to you, and the way they tried to come in contact with you for no reason. The number of times fingers lingered over passed specimens, the way space became so tight that they had to squeeze behind you in the lab, and the uncomfortable number of times you ended up between them in the equipment closet made you lose your breath.

Steve and Bucky never pressed you for anything, and all you had to say was ‘excuse me,’ for them to move out of your way, but it was untenable. You would give neither of them the satisfaction of getting upset. You managed made it through work and home to your brand new vibrator every night after long days of fighting their pheromones in the lab.

After a week of forced proximity, you were experiencing the forced Stark Industries Happy Hour. As you waited for your drink at the bar, you thought it strange that Tony had never made them mandatory before Bucky came back. That was quite the coincidence.

You wanted to pace yourself with your drinking as you realized that you had to stay there for another couple of hours to get the bonus that came with attendance. The word ‘happy’ and the names Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers did not go together, so you participated in each round to numb the desire that was plaguing you. 

For someone so smart. You were so clueless sometimes.

—-

As you rode the elevator in Stark Tower to your apartment later that evening, it seemed as if the elevator was moving extra slowly. You didn’t know if it was the tequila affecting your senses, or an actual malfunction, so you asked FRIDAY for analytics, but for some reason, she said you didn’t have clearance for the answer.

You were mad and mute for a minute, trying to clear your head for the security code. It was then that one of your fellow passengers, who you were trying to ignore, broke the silence.

“Okay Sugar, truth, or dare?”

You looked at him as Steve watched you both. 

“I said, truth, or dare.”

“Truth is Bucky, we’re not kids anymore.”

“So you pick truth. You don’t get to pick the question, though.”

Bucky ignored your ire.

“Which one of our cocks is better, mine or Steve’s?”

Your eyes widened and you gasped as Steve interjected,

“Buck…”

“What, Punk? Remember she rated them before she experienced them. Did that hold out? Or did she tell you that you were the 9.9 too?”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching the floor count, mouth set in a thin line. You had not, in fact, told Steve that he was the 9.9. 

“Stop being a little shit, James.” 

You were rocked, memories flooding back, dysregulating your nervous system even more.

“So you’re saying you won't answer the truth?”

You crossed your arms and legs as you leaned back against the elevator wall. You looked up at the floor indicator lights, trying to stop the emotions from getting to you.

“You can pass. Or you can take a dare, Sugar.”

You huffed, fighting the urge to just say pass. Some lingering adolescent urge refused to let you.

“This is so fucking ridiculous.”

You spoke it outwardly, but you were talking to yourself, to your riotous body, which was reacting to these two men in this enclosed space in the most alarming way.

Bucky was watching you intently, but Steve hadn’t turned around, just replied in that voice of his.

“Those are the rules, Sugar. You should probably answer the question or take the dare.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath when you realized what this was. You were dealing with male egos and competitiveness. And they wanted to know the answer, hear you talk about their cocks when for some reason the agave gods were making you horny.

You had to get out of there. 

“You’re not making stupid bets and putting notches in the bedposts any longer. Bucky, we were together, and then you left. I thought it was something that it was not. Then Steve and I got together. I loved you both and in return, you both played me. You both won.” 

Steve turned around and faced you as Bucky advanced closer. He licked his lips and you wanted, no you needed, to run.

“You think I didn’t love you, Sugar? Shit, I worshiped you.”

The sensation of Bucky’s firm body crowding you in bed, taking up the mattress, leg wedged between your thighs while he delivered hot kisses and a slow grind against your clit came out of nowhere. You missed it. You wanted it again. But you lifted your chin as you straightened your spine, determined to resist him.

“You left me.”

“Stark made me!”

Bucky’s blue eyes were wide with emotion.

“‘S’okay Buck. She doesn’t believe I loved her either. Even though I always have. And I caught her when you were gone.”

You looked up at Steve and saw the hurt, and you were preparing not to care, but the feeling of Steve naked against your back, his hands roaming all over you, whispering assurances and praise as he rocked inside and made you come apart in his grip almost made your knees buckle.

You had to move, so you pushed at the rock hard wall of them and they let you move them to get to the elevator controls.

“Why. Won’t. This. Thing. Move!?!?”

You pushed too many buttons at once as Steve and Bucky tried to stop you. The only thing that stopped was the slow progress of the elevator. The small room jolted to a halt, and you stumbled, right into Bucky and Steve’s arms as everything went dark.

“Well now, Sugar. You should have just taken the dare.”

Bucky’s sass enraged you and you cursed and batted their hands away from you as you reached for your purse to find your phone.

—-

A half an hour later, you were all sitting on the floor, Bucky’s jacket beneath you and Steve’s jacket around your arms because the climate control was off. There was no telling how long it would be before someone would find you.

There had been silence since you realized you had not cell phone signal and cursed for 3 minutes straight. You were more than sober now.

God, you wished you were drunk.

“Answer the question. Or take the dare, Sugar.”

This time it was Steve.

“Your fucking competitiveness is so annoying, you know that? Can you two accomplish anything on your own, just for your own pride? Or altruism? Or shits and giggles?”

You could feel their eyes on you in the dark. You fought against them in the darkness, or you were just fighting the darkness, because the lack of sight was enhancing your other senses, and lord you didn’t really want to feel those right now.

“Truth. Or Dare?”

Bucky’s velvet voice was undeterred. You shook your head at it.

“Fine. If it will get you to leave me alone. Dare.”

“I dare you to give up control.”

The response was immediate, as if he were waiting for you to say that.

You groaned, a sound that sounded to sensual, even to your own ears. You were going for annoyed.

“Bucky, it’s late. I’m tired. I’m stuck in an elevator with my two exes. This is a nightmare. And you’re daring me to give up a concept?”

He chuckled.

“Not the concept of control. I think you know exactly what I mean. Give me control. One long weekend. It will be just like when we were roommates. But without the endless teasing and blue balls. This time you give us both that we deserve.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Bucky?”

Your head turned toward Steve, whose voice was on edge.

“I get to watch. You and Sugar, Steve. And direct. And participate…and we find out who is the best…”

“Hold on…”

You could feel Steve shifting in his position on the floor.

“Are you talking about….? Watching me and Sugar… what–?”

“Really Bucky? Do you have a metal brain as well?”

You wanted to fight, but them touching you was out of the question. Bucky was pure chaos.

“If we do this, what would that accomplish?”

“The fuck are you entertaining this nonsense for, Steve? Who the fuck–”

Bucky interrupted your rant.

“Well, you’ve entertained both of us, Sugar, haven’t you? Teased us. Toyed with us. Played us against the other. Wore our clothes and nothing else, slept between us in our bed. Teased us with that body well before we could really do anything about it.”

You dropped your head in your hands, exhausted, as Bucky continued.

“And then, when you finally granted us between your legs, one by one, there was always this spector hanging over the bed, or the floor, or the counter, or the lawn that we fucked on, wasn’t there?”

Bucky paused and you heard the bitterness in his voice. 

“The other one of us was always in the closet or the bushes, or in your head, weren’t we?”

"Don't blame me for your twisted predilections, Bucky."

“What about your predilections, Sugar? You’ve played us against each other long enough. Don’t forget. We both know what gets you off.”

Bucky’s voice wrapped around you in the dark, and you wanted to climb on and ride it as your clit began to pulse. You cursed your body’s reaction to him.

“We know what gets you off hard. Steve told me everything. And it was the same as with me. Your fantasies, Sugar…”

Steve spoke up.

“Bucky, this is uncalled for…”.

"Stop being such a boy scout."

“We know you, Sugar. What we don’t know is who you like the best. We deserve to know.”

“Bucky…”

“It would give us all closure, Steve.”

“You’re crazy, Bucky.”

“Put up or shut up, Sugar.”

Suddenly the lights came back on and you scrambled to stand up as the elevator started again, this time moving at normal speed. You looked between one man who was flushed red and the other who had a smirk on his face.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, as you bolted out, you replied to Bucky.

“Why don’t you just fuck each other? That will kill two birds with one stone.”

——

Next part: Simple Sugar

Let me know if you like it! 😊

[padawansuggest]

Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.

Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.

Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.

A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.

They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.

A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!

A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.

I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.

Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.

Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.

There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!

The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.

On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.

Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.

Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…

Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.

[apricitae-world]

STAY WITH ME

M!Zayne and F!Reader. "Fluffy Treatment" inspired.

THIS POST CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT: making out, boob sucking, slight foot fetish, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

All characters are consenting adults. Proceed carefully and do not attempt to recreate these situations in real life.

Would you like to support me or ask for a prompt? Try tipping me on Ko-Fi:

Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Do not repost.

The day had took a - terrible - unexpected turn. A Wanderer appeared in a No Hunt Zone and the lack of personnel because of the seasonal flu had made it terribly difficult. All units that would otherwise be in their day off had to report for duty.

Zayne was also struggling with work. There was only a simple(r) surgery scheduled for the day, but Akso Hospital was brimming with citizens of all ages trying to get something akin to coughing syrup and fever meds.

You arrive home after sundown, tend to minor wounds and cook a very lazy dinner for two. The board of Kitty Cards you had promised to play on that day lay discarded in the living room table. The soft sound of yawning Evol kittens was your only company in the apartment.

A little over an hour later you hear the shifting sound of keys. The door opened and your doctor seemed worse for wear. Slight eyebags formed under his eyes, oily bangs dangled in his forehead and there were slight stains in his white coat.

"Hello, love. How was work today?" He gives a sad smile. Not a talking day, then. Zayne leaves his briefcase in your shared bedroom and comes back in a more comfortable attire. He heats up the food in silence, finishes his nightly routine and slams right to bed.

"I'm sorry we coudn't play Kitty Cards today. I haven't forgotten." He mumbles when you join him under the covers. "I also had a rough day at work. These things happen." He comes closer for a snuggle. "We can always do it tomorrow."

"I love you." Is the last thing you hear before drifting to sleep.

You wake with the first rays of sunshine. Your boyfriend, always the morning person, has already gotten up. It was time for his morning job, altough you could hear a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen.

"What is the special occasion?" You inquire as Zayne is terribly focused in putting a perfect pancake in your plate. There is a cup of tea across the table for him, and a generous mug of coffee on your side. Whipped cream, syrup and strawberries are scattered across the table as you decorate your breakfast. "Thank you for cooking dinner last night. I'm not sure, just wanted to make something this morning."

His face is positively glowing. That night's sleep must have made wonders for him. The eyebags are way less proeminent, he totally took a shower since his hair is silky smooth and the beautiful cat ears move to the morning sun.

Wait, what?

You stop your fork midway. Zayne, your lovely surgeon, is sporting cat ears as he walks across the table. When he turns around to flip the last pancake, you see a tail from the same shade of the ears move as if it was real.

"MY LOVE??" You ask, exasperated. With all precision in the world, another pancake is put before you. "Yes, darling?" How could you possibly tell him and not look like a lunatic?

"You have cat ears. And a tail." Zayne just quirks his eyebrows and sits down. "Is that so?" A mountain of whipped cream - one his dentist would complain about, no doubt - blocks your vision. "Why do I have cat features, my love?"

That was surely a mystery. You stand in silence while he devours his pancakes, completely oblivious to the movements of his own body. After your meal was finished in (un)comfortable silence, all the dishes were put in the sink and Zayne was looking for alone time to finish some reports.

"Oh God you were being serious?!" You hear a shout coming from his study table. This is the first time Zayne touches his new appendages since they appeared, looking bewildered. "I imagined this was another one of your pranks. How could this happen?" Initial shock gave way to interest. You come closer.

You run your hands to were his head meets the base of his ears. It was like any other part of his body. After that, you check his tail and find the meeting point. His back is turned to you, but you feel his body heat and mild shifting.

"Everything okay in there, babe?" He doesn't respond. You look at his face and there is a perceptible flush all over his cheeks and human ears. "Can you feel this?"

"I-I think it's better if I go back to work." And steps away. "I'm sure it's nothing dangerous and I will be back to normal soon, love. No reason to worry." With no further comments, he turns around and leaves the room.

Everytime you tried talking to him about it, he would blush profusely and diffuse your comments. He even called the hospital to say he was feeling terribly ill and coudn't come to work that day. His health was pristine, even with the feline feaures.

"I know there is something bothering you, Zayne." He looks at you like a child being scolded. After you began using pet names in the relationship, real names were signal to trouble. "Why don't you want to talk about it? Does it hurt?"

"No!" He shakes his head. "It's just... a lot is happening... and I don't know how to deal with it." "So you would rather bear it all alone with your reports? I am right here if you need me and you know you should ask for help with things that are bothering you."

His eyes soften and you can swear you see his breathing become more stable. Even then, he doesn't come closer to you. You leave the room and the confused doctor behind.

Around then minutes later, the door opens and a tall figure approaches you. Zayne firmly sits you on the couch and lays on top of you like a weighted blanket. "Can we cuddle?" You shift to a more comfortable position and begin petting his ears. The creeping blush returns and you hear his purr.

"Keep going." He request, and you move to pet his back. His breathing becomes labored and you notice him arching his back to meet your touch. When you touch his tail, he moans quietly.

You stop in shock. Your beloved doctor had trouble to voice his needs, so this was a nice change of pace. You decide to use both your hands to elicit more reactions from him. Not long after, you feel him grinding against your thigh.

"Do you want to take off your pants, my love?" He looks up at you. His eyes are glossy and his face is terribly red. "I want to take off your pants." He concludes.

You both shift in the couch to put your plans in motion. It was quite difficult when Zayne was hugging you so tightly, but it would make do. With a little bit of effort, both of you were undressed.

He slides down and puts his nose right above your clit. Kitten licks and small bites were distributed all around the area before he decided to dive in. Zayne moved up and down, alternating between your slick and the bundle of nerves above.

Moisture dripped down onto the couch, but you coudn't find it in you to care. Your boyfriend speeds up, and you know you won't last long under his ministrations. "Ah, ah, we're m-making a mess." You manage to say.

"Good." You feel his hot breath. "I want you to make a mess. Please make a mess on me." He goes back to work with renewed vigor. Waves of pleasure pool in your stomach and you know you're close.

"Z-Zayne, I'm gonna cum." That seemed like more of an incentive to him than anything else. You feel his tongue draw patterns on your flesh before setting on an onslaught of your bud. Using the little of what was left of your brain, you can distinguish a "Z" and then an "A". He was writing his name on your clit.

Your orgasm hits suddently. He helps you ride it, groaning in satisfaction as you grind your pussy against his face. After a few waves, the feeling diminished and gives way to overstimulation. "A break, please." Your voice is hoarse but Zayne doesn't look any better, his cat ears twitching and face full of your release.

Pearly-white beads of precum slide down his cock and the tip is red and swollen. You both look at it at the same time and then make eye contact. "Let me help you." You say.

He pretty much pounced at you, protecting your head from hitting the couch as he forcefully pushed you down. His lips are into yours in a second, and the gasps he makes are music to your ears. "Is this why you have been avoiding me this morning?" It takes a while for him to reply. "I want to be close to you. I want to love you and protect you every waking moment and hope to dream of you at night."

He uses a finger to prepare you for the stretch. You use your own hand to smear precum against his slick. He hisses. "But ever since this morning I... It's not enough." He adds a second one and begins a scissoring motion. You moan at the feeling. "I want to bite and lick and - I even thought about bringing you a dead bird this morning."

Zayne looks away in something dangerously close to shame. His tail is a black blur behind him. "I didn't want you to see me so needy. You also have things to do and I shoudn't be like this." He positions himself at your entrance.

"We don't know what happened to you yet." Your train of thought threatens to be interrupted once his tip begins teasing you. "It's okay to be needy sometimes, and it does make sense you would be feeling more catlike today." You wink and he gives a soft laugh. Such a lovely sound.

The stretch is not so bad as the first time. You both make sure the experience is less painful as possible. "Wh-what about the other things?" Your mind returns to his earlier comments. The licks and the love bittes he is holding himself not to do.

You bite his shoulder and he screams. You can feel is dick twitch inside your walls. He almost cums from the feeling. "I bite you and you bite me. Deal?" That sounds good for him, since in the next moment he is lowering his head and sucking your boobs.

There are bites scattered from your neck to the inside of your thigs, his hips moving the entire time. Your second orgasm is alredy approaching, and the way Zayne teases your breasts is clearly not helping.

He snuggles closer to you, almost as if he is trying to merge both your bodies together. He whimpers with the new angle. "I'm close. Wanna come inside." You enthusiastically agree. Always the safe sex preacher, it feels good to do it without a condom for once.

"Oh you feel so good please wanna feel you cum too." He starts blabbering and moves to play with your clit. You begin meeting his thrust halfway, and soon both of you are moaning each other's names. Your "Za-Zayne"s is everything he needs to release everything inside.

That feeling combined with him deftly playing with your bud makes you reach your peak too. "Thank you thank you I love you" Is what you can distinguish from his chants. A kiss is all you can give to tell him you love him too.

After the aftershocks of the orgasm have passed, the stickiness of the sofa and the sweat clinging to your body were starting to make you uncomfortable. "Wanna take a shower?" He was still nugding you. "I don't want to let you go."

"What if we take a shower and then cuddle in bed? We can deal with the destruction of the couch later." He stretches lazily, ears moving all the way down and then returning back up, his tail making similar movements. He nods and both of you dissapear behind the bathroom door.

Grayson was ready to check out, and Yvone's shift would end in about an hour. The movement of the hospital was finally starting to die down. "It's such a shame Dr. Zayne caught the flu." She commented.

"Truly. I can't imagine how he must be feeling, alone at home and sick." They both give an understanding look at each other and return to their tasks.

Maybe things aren't so bad as they seem.

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Marked By the Moon: Part One

CW: Dubcon due to heat/breeding. Originally posted on A03.

An oldie, but one of my favorites.

Buzzing shook the nightstand. Bluelight pierced through the blackness, making it impossible to ignore. 

Reaching forward, Carmen groped across the polished wood, then seized her phone. Sitting up on her bed, she pressed the glowing screen to her ear. Sleep clogged her throat and eyes as she grunted out a greeting. 

It was just after four in the morning. She knew better than to say “Someone better be dying”, because a call this early meant somebody probably was. 

“‘Lo?” She gurgled, blearily staring in the darkness. Sweat clung to her face and clothes in the summer heat. Her window was open, the breeze doing little to cool her off. 

“Carmen!” The voice on the other end was frantic. “You’re not going to believe this!” Several dogs barked and howled in the background. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but we’ve got an emergency surgery.” There were several grunts as her coworker pulled something. “I think some poachers got to him. It looks like he was torn open by a bear trap.” 

The words floated in the air, before bringing horrific images to mind. Carmen’s phone beeped, indicating there were messages sent, images attached to them. 

“I’ll be there soon,” Carmen was out of bed and throwing on her clothes. “Start prepping.” She pulled her dirty blonde hair back without brushing it, making sure it was secured in a knot at the back of her head. Squeezing into her jeans and a presentable shirt, she quickly grabbed her phone and quickly looked at the incoming messages. 

What followed were images of a male ginger wolf, with a large wound on his leg and shoulder. His fur was damp, having been cleaned up. There was a muzzle around his snout, but his eyes were open and alert. He looked directly at the camera with what could only be described as a lupine scowl. 

No matter how many injured animals she saw.  Carmen always sniffed and felt a pang of pity for them. From little Spot and Mittens getting into a spat to the various wildlife people brought in, every creature needed a caring touch. 

“He really tried to fight me when I put on the muzzle.”   Anna’s words read. “ But a good jab of sedatives has him going night night. He’ll be completely under when you get here.” 

“Sorry buddy,” Carmen said aloud to no one. “But your jaw could tear off our arms.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she started to psych herself up for the upcoming meeting with this new patient. There were several wolves in the area, but they tended to stay in the mountains and parks, away from the city. A local wildlife reserve rehabilitated them and worked closely with the clinic, taking on all sorts of feral creatures that didn’t belong in the city. 

The poor thing was probably all sorts of confused. 

Going to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and sputtered, slapping her cheeks to wake herself up. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and let the rush of mint further energize her. This was going to be one for the books. 

Seizing a canned coffee from the fridge, Carmen grabbed her keys and stumbled out the door. Guzzling it down, she drove through the dark streets, slowing strategically at speed traps. The one good thing about her random late night trips, the normal people of the world were still asleep. Although it was nearing a full moon, so the crazies of the world would be out. 

Something dug into her hip. At first, she tried to ignore it, but it dug into the sensitive skin at every movement. It felt sharp. Adjusting how she sat, Carmen tried to keep her eyes on the road. She was waking up, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it. 

Once she pulled up to a stoplight, she looked down to see a flash of silver wrapped in a leather string. 

Reaching down, she fished it out and saw the trinket she’d bought a month ago, a piece of rose quartz with wire wrapped around it, a small crescent moon, tree, and wolf charm tied to the gemstone. It had been a weird impulse buy. She couldn’t help but think of how thematically appropriate it was. 

Ducking her head, Carmen slipped the leather over her head and tucked it under her shirt. The light turned green, and she floored it once she got on the highway. The night whipped by. Rolling down the windows, Carmen let out a scream to further wake herself up. It was going to be a long day. 

It was barely four thirty when she pulled into the animal hospital. 

Anna let her in before she reached for her badge. She looked frazzled, her eyes wide and bloodshot. There were small scratches covering her arms, but it was a side effect of the job they were more than used to. Passing off the coffee, Carmen took the clipboard and quickly skimmed the contents. They didn’t have a lot of time. 

“He’s completely out,” Anna said as they rushed to the surgery room. “I think he’s a juvenile. But it’s hard to tell.” 

“Then let’s make good use of the time,” Carmen stopped to wash her hands. Once she was certain they were sufficiently clean, she went through the door. 

On the metal table was the body of the wolf. His hind legs were being propped up by a stool. His paws and ears twitched in his sleep. Instead of chasing rabbits, he was probably thinking of chasing sheep. Or perhaps deer. Hell, he probably could take down a bear if he wanted to. 

“I knew wolves were massive, but this guy is just…” Carmen fanned herself with the clipboard, trying to wrap her head around the sight. 

“Huge?” Anna asked, arching a brow. “Even when I worked at the park as a teen, I don’t think the wolves there got this big.” She took a long drink from the coffee. “He’s bulky too. Nothing but muscle in there.” 

“Yeah.” Carmen rubbed her eyes. The sight of the patient had completely sobered her up and released sleep’s hold on her. “Alright. Let’s patch this guy up.” Approaching the table, she placed a hand on the wolf’s haunch. 

There was almost an audible snap as his jaw clenched, lips curling back to show his fangs. His whole body went rigid under her touch. Slowly, his upward eye opened and tracked, staring at her. 

Carmen’s stomach dropped and she sucked in a breath. His paw twitched, brushing against her thigh. His claws could easily tear open her clothing and skin if he so chose. Silvery drool dribbled from his mouth, hitting the floor with a wet smack. 

Blinking rapidly, Carmed put a hand to her chest and kept her breathing under control. The gemstone firm in her grip, she willed the wolf to go back under. Something tugged at her, and she smelled something… Musty. 

The wolf’s eye rolled back and slowly closed again, his body relaxing. The drooling stopped. When Carmed rubbed her eyes, the puddle of drool was gone.

She was more tired than she thought. But she needed to give this patient the best care. 

At least the sedatives were doing their work. Anna hadn’t seemed to notice the incident, having rushed to the front desk when the bell chimed, indicating they had another patient. No doubt this one would be making the rounds on social media, if not the local news. 

She washed off the wounds again, then made quick work of them. His skin and fur were so thick that her tools were warped and bent when she started. Putting away the tools, she went and found the newest set she’d managed to scrounge up the money for. 

 Sutures were simple. Once she’d pieced most of him together, she bandaged him up. It was almost comical to see an entire roll wrapped around his leg, tufts of fur peeking out between the cloth. His paw twitched when she touched it. 

Now she had to convince a wild animal to ignore his base instincts. With man’s best weapon. Painkillers and more sedatives. 

His eyes moved under the lid, his nostrils flaring and lips twitching. 

They didn’t have an Elizabethan collar big enough to put around his head. Carmen doubted it would stay on even if there was one. He would probably find some way to tear it off. 

Hurt, thrown into the hospital parking lot, muzzled, sedated, then probably going to wake up drugged out of his mind. 

“Don’t worry,” She said, patting the side of his head. “I’m sure the assholes who did this to you are going to get what’s coming to them.” His heartbeat thrummed under her fingers. Hands sinking into his fur, Carmen found it somewhat comforting. Warm. She found herself leaning down to rest her head on his side. Stopping herself, she pulled back. 

How tired was she? Maybe she should have drank the coffee instead of passing it off to Anna. 

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. 

Then, there was a growl. 

Eyes opening, she saw the wolf staring at her again.

No, not staring. The light was gone from his eyes. His paws twitched, like he was running in place, but in his sleep. She debated on tying his paws, but knew the poor thing would only wake up more confused and scared. The sedatives would work on him for another couple hours. Moving the patient to another large kennel, she locked him inside. 

Exiting the room, Carmen went to the back room and sat down, curling up in a chair and closing her eyes. 

It felt like she’d only blinked when she opened them again. Her whole body was stiff and sore. Tilting her head back and forth, she heard her joints popping and cracking. Taking in a deep breath, she got up and went to check on the patient. 

He had been moved to the kennels, a private section to keep him away from the domestic pets. His head laid on a pillow, his whole body limp. The exhaustion came through the glass, his expression pitiful. 

“I called the Wildlife Reserve.” Anna said, coming in with a steaming mug. “They’ll be here to pick him up in half an hour. They had some… Colorful words for me when I told them we had already gone ahead and done surgery on him.” 

Carmen crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I still want to know who the hell did this to him? Who sees an animal and thinks “You know what, I should hurt him?””

“I dunno. Crazy.” A buzzing rang through the room. Sighing, Anna turned on her heel and went to greet the customer who had just walked in. 

Walking up the glass, Carmen put her hand on it. The wolf tilted his head to look up at her, eyes looking sorrowful. His sides heaved, the barrier muffling the whines. 

Then, his head snapped to the area behind her. Looking back, Carmen saw uniformed men with a large cage. They towered over Carmen, their bodies thick with muscle. Their uniforms had the logo of the local wildlife reserve. 

“Oh. I thought you wouldn’t be here for a while.” Carmen straightened. 

“When we heard about the wolf, we had to make quick time.” One said, offering his hand. “Especially knowing he was injured.” The gloves were thick, ready to take on any bite. He was maybe mid thirties, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. 

Carmen took the hand, shaking it. She wasn’t even sure if  his fingers could move within the fabric. 

“Well, he seems to be responding well to the medication. Here’s what we dosed him with.” She found the chart and passed it over to the agent as the other moved to the wolf’s room. He was younger, maybe in his early twenties with dark hair pulled back into a tail. 

“Good. Thanks for taking care of him. We’ll try to see if he belongs to a pack not too far from here. If he doesn’t, then we’ll make sure to release him somewhere safe.” The man handed her a card. “If you want to visit him.” 

“Of course,” Carmen heard the sounds of a struggle. Whirling around, she saw the wolf snarling and growling, lunging at the Agent despite the muzzle. They had him in a hold with a catch pole. He went to try and paw it off, before collapsing with a yelp when he put weight on his injured legs. 

“Stand back, ma’am. I have to go help him.” The agent rushed into the room as the wolf continued to pull and twist, trying to get himself free. 

When he opened the door, the wolf suddenly shot forward, knocking him aside and heading straight for Carmen. 

“Shit!” Carmen didn’t have time to move as the wolf barreled into her. When she hit the ground, the Agents managed to get hold of him again. 

Then, he lifted up a massive paw and raked it across her arm. Two long crimson lines formed across the skin. Blood welled up, dripping onto the floor. 

“Carmen!” Anna shrieked, rushing over. “Oh my god, are you okay?” 

“It’s fine.” Carmen insisted, getting to her feet. Drops of crimson fell on the floor. The skin was already red and puffy. “Jesus.” She struggled to draw in breath, her heart leaping into her throat. 

The wolf continued to pull and tug at the Agents, but the second wind seemed to have gone out of him. Once they got him into the cage, the fight completely went out of him. With a metallic WHUMP, he collapsed, staring at Carmen through the bars. 

“You need to go to the hospital.” Anna insisted. “That looks bad.” 

“ER visit is not in the cards.” Carmen argued. “Can’t afford that.” She winced and cradled her arm. “How far away is the closest urgent care?” 

Walking to the desk, she pulled out a first aid kit, popping it open with one hand. At least they had plenty to handle small incidents. No way was she going to walk through the front lobby while bleeding like a stuck pig. Pulling out disinfectant, she went to the bathroom and applied it. 

The burning sensation nearly made her black out from the pain. Her head hit the wall, and she barely registered what Anna was saying. The other Agents were apologizing, or at least Carmen hoped so. 

“- about ten minutes?” Anna frowned. “I’ll fill out the incident report.” She looked Carmen up and down. “You don’t look so good, you should take the rest of the day off to rest. I’ll call someone from the other clinic and see if they can cover the surgeries. Thank God those guys knew the nearest Clinic offhand.” 

“Probably go there all the time themselves." Carmen shrugged. Anna reached over and helped hold her arm still. 

"Thanks, Doll.” Carmed winced again, seizing a roll of bandages and binding her arm the best she could. The Agents were gone, with the cage loaded in a trailer. “I’m not even mad. Poor boy was probably scared out of his mind.” 

***

The Urgent Care had just opened when she pulled up. Once admitted, she sat in the room, still cradling her arm. She didn’t dare unwrap the wound to get a better look at it. 

When the door opened, Carmen jerked her head up to look. 

The man who came through was older, maybe mid to late 40s. His hair was completely white, small bits of stubble on his face. Tired brown eyes looked her over, dark circles under them. A fatigue they both seemed to recognize and share a sympathetic half smile over. 

“Alright, tell me what happened.” His voice rumbled, still raspy from sleep. He held up a clipboard, clicking a pen to take notes. Old fashioned, then. She caught the name on his nametag, Esau Remington . 

“So, I’m a vet,” Carmen began, unwrapping her arm as she recounted what she thought was needed. He paid attention, unblinking and nodding. 

By the end, his brow was furrowed, the pen’s clicker tapping against his lips. 

“Are you sure it was a wolf and not a really big dog like a shepherd or a husky?” 

Fishing her phone out, Carmen showed him the pictures that Anna had sent her. His frown deepened, his brows rising to meet his hairline, the pen twirling back and forth between his fingers. The corner of his lip twitched, and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” His cheeks flushed and he gave a nervous chuckle. 

“Sorry about the language. It’s not every day you see a wolf.” Clenching his jaw, he looked at the wound on her arm. “Just the scratch? He didn’t bite you anywhere?” 

Carmen shook her head. “No. They had a muzzle on him.” She winced as he rolled her arm between his fingers to look the gash over, making sure there was nothing inside it. The skin was more swollen, the congealing scabs weeping with clear fluid. “I’m up to date on my rabies shots and the like, unless you think I should take a booster?” 

Shaking his head, Dr. Remington sighed. “No, I think you do need sutures though. He did a number on you.” 

The pen scribbled as he took down a few notes. “I’m going to write you a prescription for some antibiotics and steroids. Take them all , even if you feel better.” The tone did not offer an argument. “And I’m going to recommend you take the next few days off. If you have a wily patient, you’re going to rip the sutures back open.” 

Carmen let a groan slip past her lips. The Doctor seemed taken aback, pen pausing mid scribble. Brow cocked, he looked her over. 

“I’ve got a lot of patients I need to look after.” She complained. “The wolf was a wild card, normally I just handle check ups.” 

“I’m sure your patients would appreciate you in a healthy state.” Remington argued back gently. “Take some time off, don’t strain yourself.”

  He looked over his shoulder, then back to her. “I know when I have some days cleared in my schedule, I like to go camping with some of my friends. We go hiking, swimming, and get to see nature.” Looking pointedly at her wound, he shrugged. “Although it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re a little sick of nature right now.” 

With a sigh, he began to prep her arm. Another round of disinfectant, making her hiss with pain. 

“I don’t mind nature.” Carmen shrugged, wincing as he began to apply the first suture. “Just don’t know if it’s a good idea to make a spontaneous trip into the woods with a messed up arm.” She tried to force a smile, but hissed when he pinched her wound closed. 

Dr. Remington tilted his head to the side with a grunt of agreement. “True. But it was just a suggestion.” His Adam’s Apple bobbed and he swallowed hard, his lips moist. “Not to mention the meds you’re on… Probably will make you too woozy to do anything strenuous.” He chuckled. “I got a little ahead of myself, sorry.” 

Carmen shrugged. “I get it. A little early, trying to wake yourself up.” 

"I find it hard to sleep some nights. Especially around this time of the  month. Always finding people doing stupid things. Must be the full moon." 

Once he’d finished stitching her up, he presented her with a prescription and doctor’s note. After calling the clinic back, Carmen assured Anna that she would be back as soon as possible. 

At home, she popped the first round of pills and collapsed onto her bed. 

When Carmen woke up next, sweat soaked her sheets. Panting, she pulled herself from her blanket cocoon. The cool air of the night was like ice. Shivering, she popped another round of meds, then  got into the shower, letting the water pour over her. 

The sweat and grime from sleep rolling down into the tub made her feel a little more like a human. Her phone was blowing up with texts from Anna and other coworkers. Pushing her phone aside, Carmen collapsed onto her bed again, shivering and trying to cover herself up enough to combat the shivers, but not feel overheated. 

Shaking, she tried to claim sleep, but it refused to come. Getting up, she began to pace back and forth across the floor, feet slapping loudly across the hardwood. The walls around her seemed to close tighter. 

Opening her window, she popped out the screen and leaned out. A spell of dizziness hit her. Head swimming, she nearly fell forward. Holding tightly to the sill, she yanked herself back in, rear slamming hard against the floor. Leaning against her bed, she took a few shaky breaths. 

Closing her eyes, she drug the sweat soaked blanket down from her bed and wrapped it around herself, falling into a fitful sleep. 

When the first rays of sun pierced the open window, chilly winds of dawn rolled over Carmen and made her hair stand on end. The necklace pressed into her hip, leaving red indents over her skin. Fishing it out, she simply tossed it aside, watching it skitter across the floor and come to a rest against her dresser. 

Crawling to the window, she pulled it closed and then collapsed under it. Curling into the fetal position, Carmen fell into another fitful sleep. 

She found herself standing next to a woman made of stone. A crescent moon covered her eyes like a mask, her mouth open in a howl. A silver wolf draped itself across her lap, head thrown back to mimic hers. Cracks and chipped off pieces had worn it down, but it still held a beauty to it. 

The grass around it was green and lush. Thick trees grew around the statue, the song of the forest crying out. Animals, insects, bubbling streams, wind, all of it calling out to something in her. Taking a few steps forward, she looked at the wolf. Its stone eye seemed to move, looking right at her. Even though she was clothed, it made her feel naked and nervous. Stomach flipping, she took a few steps back. 

“Come to me, my child.” A woman’s voice whispered in the wind. 

The golden sun had become the silvery moon when Carmen opened her eyes again. Her whole body ached. A throbbing in her head and arm helped drag her away from the land of sleep. She saw the necklace tightly clutched in her grip, leaving an impression of the moon in her palm. 

Every muscle protested when Carmen drug herself off the floor and took the meds. They went down hard, nearly making her throw it back up. 

Filling up a tall drink of water, she guzzled it down to fill her stomach. Hunger gnawed at her, staving off sleep. Breathing hard, she took another shower and let the hot water soothe her muscles. 

The strange fever and fatigue had worn off, replaced with an energy that she hadn’t felt in years. Blood sang in her veins, wanting to run. Even in the shower, she found herself shifting from one foot to the other, eager to start… Something. 

Stepping out of the shower, she found herself dressing quickly. Hair still damp, she pulled it back and mapped out a potential run she could do. She just had to go outside. Get away from the walls of plaster and sheetrock. 

A smell made her pause. It was buried under her smell. But she could still pick it up. Pulling out her pants from the other day, she pulled out the business card and sniffed it. A small drop of blood was on the corner. Hers? No. The scent drove her wild. She held it close and inhaled deeply, before pulling it back. 

“What the hell am I doing?” Setting it back down, Carmen rubbed her face, sweat pouring down her brow. She stared at the address, the image of the wolf coming to her mind. 

He stared at her, looking pitiful. Then, his claws flashed and raked across her arm. When she fell to the ground, she saw the statue. 

“ Come to me, my child .” The woman’s voice whispered in the wind again. “ Join the hunt. ” 

Walking outside, Carmen let the night air roll over her and went to the car, heart thrumming. Pulling out her phone, she punched the address of the wildlife reserve and then prepared to travel. 

Her drive was a blur. Tunnel vision made her unaware of how fast she arrived, or even if she was driving safely. Static crackled in her ears, making her hair stand on end. 

The mechanical voice telling her she’d arrived at her destination was what brought her back. She stared at the spot illuminated by her headlights. A line of trees, then a chain link fence. More foliage behind that, but it was too thick to see past. 

Getting out of the car, Carmen slammed the door and began to take a few steps toward the fence. The wind shifted, blowing a scent toward her. Wrapping her fingers around the links, Carmen inhaled.

  Closing her eyes, she let the smell wash over her. It caressed her very being, tugging at something within her. Dropping to her knees in front of the fence, she clenched the links tight enough for her knuckles to turn white and her injured arm to throb. Metal warped under her grip, the coppery scent of blood following. 

Bringing her hands down, Carmen saw crimson pooling in her palm. A laugh escaped her and she sat with her back to the fence. Lapping at the wound, shook her head. 

“What on earth am I doing?” She started to stand. Her body protested at the movement. The soreness was back with a vengeance. Closing her eyes, she pressed her bandaged hand to her face, pulling it away to see it soaked with sweat and grime. 

Staggering to her feet, she ignored the tantalizing scent as she headed back to her car. When Carmen put her hand on the roof, the smell hit her like a load of bricks. Opening her eyes wide, she turned back around to look at the line of trees. The area around her was tinted with a silvery-blue hue, but it was almost as bright as day. 

This had to be a dream. None of this made sense. Leaning down, she touched her forehead to the warm metal of the car. 

“Just wake up.” She urged herself. “You’re having a bad reaction to the medicine.” 

Slowly, she raised her head. 

Time seemed to slow down. Turning back toward the fence, she felt her feet moving on their own, dragging across the asphalt. 

Something glistened on the links in the silvery light. Reaching out, she brushed her knuckle to it. Once she touched the metal, it sent a jolt through her.  

Then, she saw the small gap in the links. Someone had cut through it with bolt cutters. But they’d put it back to where it was almost invisible to anyone far enough away. No wonder she had been able to bend the metal so easily.

 Clenching the fence, she pulled it back and crawled through, metal raking across her back. Wincing, she dropped to her stomach and drug herself through, feeling more tugs at her clothing. 

Once she stood up, her arm was throbbing, the pain making her head spin. Staggering, she sniffed the air. The scent was stronger than before. Her whole body ached, but she had to follow it. Cradling her arm, she began a slow walk. 

Cicadas cried, a creek flowed, and the wind continued to blow, stirring a few stray wisps of her hair out of its knot at the back of her head. 

Then, she came to a break in the trees, showing a sheer drop. In the meadow, a group of wolves ran around, wrestling and snapping at one another. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw one stop, then stand up on its hind legs and sniff the air. It turned a massive head around to look right at her. 

“I knew you’d come.” A voice called behind her. It was gruff, like it wasn’t used to speaking. As it rumbled through her ears, Carmen’s hair stood on end. 

Slowly, Carmen turned to see a bipedal wolf looking at her, its hindleg bandaged and stiff. Its shoulder was also wrapped up. 

The wolf took a few shaking steps toward her. Then, it dropped down onto all fours. Even then, it still looked her in the eye. Drool glistened on its teeth as it licked its muzzle. Then, she saw the same eyes, in what she recognized as a lupine scowl. 

Her ginger wolf from the clinic. 

Now she knew she was dreaming. 

It took another step toward her. She backed away, stopping when she felt the give of the ground, warning her of the drop below. Heart hammering in her throat, she could only stare at the wolf as it took a few steps closer to her.

Her stomach fluttered. Fear? No. Something else she couldn’t identify. Head swimming, she tried to string thoughts together to make a plan of escape. However, her vision began to blur. Daring to blink, she took in a shaking breath. 

Something tore through the grass. But she didn’t dare take her eyes off the creature approaching her. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she focused on the visible threat. 

“The Goddess has blessed you. And you’ve been marked by her hounds.” Ginger grumbled, nose nearly touching her. The inhales were strong, almost like a human. 

“You’ve gone into heat.” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, hot breath rolling over her skin. Something about it made the ache worse, spreading it through Carmen so fast she nearly screamed. “You’ll send the rest of the pack into rut.” 

Then, a large silver wolf slammed into the ginger, swatting him with a human shaped front paw. The action was so quick, Carmen could only gape. Her knees nearly gave out, but she managed to keep herself upright. If she went over the cliff, she’d drop and probably break below. But if this was a dream… 

Ginger flew back, screaming in pain. The noise shook her thoughts loose and she gasped, reaching out for him. Crimson blossomed on the bandaged haunch and shoulder. His back legs gave out as he struggled to get on all fours again.

“You bastard!” He barked at the silver wolf. “You broke my leg!” Yelping, he looked at Carmen with pleading eyes. “Help me!” 

Carmen took a step forward, only to feel a hand clamp on her shoulder. Claws dug into her skin, making her stand still. Then, she was whirled around to face the silver wolf, who towered over her. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” The voice rasped. “Not without being taken into the pack first.” His nostrils flared, his pupils blowing all the way out as he stared at her. Brown eyes, glinting with the want for a hunt. His scent overpowered Carmen. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered to wake up over and over again. 

The fear held fast to her, not allowing her to move a muscle in fear of both wolves tearing her to shreds. 

Then, the hand on her shoulder went to her waist, picking her up. Before she could scream, it squeezed tight enough to push the air from her lungs. Finally, she opened her eyes to see that she was moving. Well, the wolf was walking, simply carrying her like a ragdoll. His massive paws had wrapped around her, although he’d taken care to not scratch her further with his claws. 

Ginger flew at them with a snarl, his back leg suddenly seeming to work perfectly. 

Silver swatted at him, then heaved. The wolf flew through the air, screaming as he went down into the meadow below. When he hit the ground, the crunch echoed through the night. Carmen felt sick, her stomach heaving. Covering her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut again. 

There was a grunt. Air whipped around Carmen, stirring the scents again. An impact jostled her, and she opened her eyes. They’d landed in the meadow, the other wolves approaching, much more cautious in their steps. A few sniffed, inching closer with flared nostrils, but never close enough to touch. 

The smell made her mind swim. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and she shivered. All the eyes on her were like hands, caressing her very being. Each one hungrily taking her in, assessing her. 

The ruined pile of fur and bone groaned. 

“Your brother decided to go against the rules and try to bring another member into our ranks. Without permission. Or consent, for that matter.” Silver growled. “So now, he must put himself at the mercy of Diana.” He set Carmen down, setting his massive hand on her shoulder so she couldn’t run. His touch froze her further. Not even a breath passed her lips. 

The wolves sat or laid down in the grass, staring at the pair. They knew who the one in charge was. 

“What’s going on?” Carmen choked out, eyes watering. “Please. Tell me or let me wake up.” She slapped her cheeks, stopping when Silver’s hand wrapped around her entire uninjured forearm. It was a gentle, but firm grip. 

“No one touches her.” Silver insisted, before forcing her to face him. His eyes seemed to stare into her very being. They looked alert, but so tired. More fluid dribbled onto her legs and shoes. But she didn’t dare break the gaze. To assert dominance with a canine, you couldn’t be the first to break eye contact. 

Hopefully the same rules applied to lupines. Alpha and Omega only applied to captive and family packs, but this was all she knew to work with. 

As they stared at one another, Carmen felt the fear and desire to know more about everything warring with one another. Part of her wanted to escape the dream no matter how, the other part wanted to stay and listen. Sit on her haunches like the other wolves, watching him speak. 

His eyes explored hers, flicking over her form to take her appearance in. The gleam only added to his dangerous look. His pupils were slightly dilated, his muzzle twitching. His tongue tasted the air around her. 

Silver broke away first. A sigh of relief escaped her, and she dropped to her knees. Silver’s grip on her arm didn’t release. Closing her eyes, she urged herself to wake up. 

Then, she was being pulled back to her feet. Arms cradled her, twisted and alien enough to make her uneasy, despite the strength behind them. She tried to not shake, but her body refused to listen. 

“What do we do?” One of the wolves asked. “Her scent is going to roll on the wind. If she’s changed, there might be others we don’t know about.” 

“Guard the entrances. Make sure no one else gets in.” Silver rumbled, before he started to walk, each step jostling Carmen enough to nearly make her cry out. 

Then, he took her away from the meadow. There was a hole on the side of the cliff. Bowing his head, Silver brought her inside. Only then did he set her down on the stone floor. Once he’d done that, he went to the mouth of the cave and sat down. 

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Carmen begged, not daring to move from her spot. “Did… Did you kill that wolf?” She’d have to call the Wildlife reserve when she woke up to check on him. 

“No. If Diana is merciful, he will be healed when the moon and sun switch.” Silver didn’t look at her. “You care about the one who did this to you? Was he your mate?” 

The question made Carmen blush. “N… No. I just…” Her brain felt addled. Why was she getting flustered over a wolf? “I took care of him. He was already hurt.” 

Silver snorted. “We’re sturdy. Don’t worry.” He slammed his paw on the ground. The open palm slapped hard, the noise amplified in the cave. Carmen resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears. “As you saw, he wasn’t nearly as injured as he pretended to be.” 

Still, getting flung over the side of the cliff… 

Carmen shuddered. “I just… I want to go home. Or wake up.” She scratched at the side of her head. The blood on her palm smeared on her cheek. 

Silver turned to look at her sideways. “You think this is a dream?” 

“Talking wolves, seeing them walk upright, it’s like a werewolf movie.” Swallowing, Carmen flinched when she felt the sting of pain, more blood dripping on her clothing. 

Standing upright, Silver approached her, taking her hand in his massive paws. Rolling it back and forth, he stared at it. Then, he slowly leaned down and ran a large pink tongue over the wound. The sensation sent a shiver up Carmen’s spine. 

The wound slowly began to shrink, before sealing itself closed. Carmen stared at it in awe. She flexed her fingers and brushed them against the twisted digits that now clutched her hand. Silver’s fur suddenly bristled, and he dropped her hand, turning away from her again. 

“You are werewolves, aren’t you?” Swallowing hard, Carmen tried to calm the roaring in her ears. 

“Correct.” Silver sighed. “We don’t bring pack members in willy nilly. It was supposed to be a tight ring.” He scratched at the ground, his claws bringing up grains of stone. “And not without my permission. Every werewolf in this pack is under my protection. They abide by my rules. In exchange, they are given this area to run every cycle.” 

“Why haven’t I changed?” The words were hard to force out. 

“You’re refusing to.” Silver turned to face her fully. “You’ve surely felt the way your body is hurting? How you need to do something, but you’re not sure what?” His nostrils flared, his pupils nearly overtaking his iris. “The Goddess has touched you. But you’ve managed to keep control, I’m impressed.” 

His hands shook as he reached for her. Claws traced her cheeks, making her hair stand on end. The scent of him was overpowering, making her mouth almost water. Something in her ached. 

“You are safe now. If you give into the change, you will not harm yourself or others.” He assured her. “I will take you into the pack. Every moon, we will come here. Once you are recognized as a member, we’ll do what we can to make sure that this is as painless as possible.” 

His hands on her, the rumbling of his voice, his scent, the way the air tasted around him drove Carmen crazy. Trembling, she felt herself nearly falling again. Why was she so weak in the knees? 

Something in her finally let go. The world exploded in silvery blue, the scents, sounds, and feelings overpowering her. Gasping, she felt her back arch. 

She suddenly jolted forward, slipping from the grip of Silver. He stared at her with wide eyes, flinching when she touched him. Burying her hands into his fur, inhaled his scent, listening to the rapidly increasing beat of his heart. 

The touch seemed to awaken something in him, his rapidly growing erection brushed against her midriff, pushing the hem of her shirt up. 

“N-no.” He weakly tried to push her away, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to get away from her. “You can’t.” 

A fire formed in Carmen’s belly. She felt the emptiness inside her clawing up into her womb, begging to be filled. Dropping to her knees, she panted, sweat trickling down her brow and upper lip. 

“Please.” She said, her mouth dry. “Please. Help me.” Her eyes widened and she felt heat flash through her. The scent rolling off her mingled with the air. It was hard to resist the urge to tear off her clothes and start plunging fingers inside herself. 

Silver’s erection grew, beads of precum dribbling from the tip as he inhaled her scent, tasting it in the air. Silvery saliva drooled out of his mouth, and he stared at her. But he didn’t dare move. His hand gripped the mouth of the cave, looking ready to rip it down rather than come near her. 

“You must have your first change,” He urged her. “Please. Let the Wolf inside come out.” He flexed his free hand. “My fangs and claws would rip you to shreds.” His voice was growing more raspy, each word a chore to push past his teeth. 

Carmen’s body twisted as she cried out with a need she’d never felt the intensity of before. Her throat felt raw from the primal screams escaping her. She tried to find the part of her mind and push for the change to occur. Begging the wolf to come out. 

The other wolves were making their way over. Their scent made Carmen launch herself, only for Silver to clothesline her. With a grace that suggested practice, he managed to push her back into the cave. With his hand still tight around her waist, he laid Carmen on the floor. 

“Diana, forgive me for what I’m about to do.” He muttered, holding her to the ground. “You can’t scream like that. You’ll make every wolf in the area come running.” His cock brushed against Carmen’s clothed groin, the sensation sending another blast of lust through her. 

“Please.” Carmen panted, unable to catch her breath. “Help me.” Eyes watering, she reached for the Wolf’s arm, gripping it tightly enough she thought she might burst her stitches. 

“I could rip you in half.” He shook his head. “You’re not changed. You’re not made for it.” His nostrils flared, his hands shaking and gripping her tighter. 

“Help me change.” She urged him. “Please.” Why was she in so much pain if it was a dream? There was no way she’d been this horny in real life. Sure, she’d wanted sex before, but never this bad.

Sighing, he looked over his shoulder to the entrance of the cave. It was empty. But each movement and second he made her wait was agonizing. 

Slowly, he took his hand off her. With considerably less grace and control, he tore off her pants and underwear. The full scent of her arousal hit him. His hand slammed the open area above her head, his cock dribbling onto her thighs. A few drops landed on her exposed groin. Crying out, she bucked her hips up, reminding him what needed to be filled. 

Leaning down, he nuzzled against her neck, his nose cold. Fangs traced over her skin, making her gasp. Warmth followed as his tongue went across her neck, trailing to the collar of her shirt, leaving a large wet spot. Tensing, he ran his hand up her stomach, slipping it under the fabric of her top. 

It rested there, his open palm’s warmth mingling with her own. Slowly, he slipped it off her, taking care to not tug on the bandages on her injured arm. His claws tore through the cheap fabric of her sports bra, but the loss wasn’t going to break her heart. 

His eyes rested on the necklace now laying against her chest. 

“Diana forgive me,” He said again, before pushing her legs apart. His fur tickled her bare skin. It was softer than she thought it would be. Lowering his head, he lapped at the wetness forming between her legs and spilling out into the floor. 

The touch of his tongue made her cry out. Her legs locked around Silver’s head, forcing him to inhale her scent and arousal completely. Whether the motion or her cries finally made him let go, it seemed to awaken something in him. 

Growling, he sent a rumble through her that shook her very being. Breath escaped her, and she fell back flat, drowning in the pleasure. 

Grabbing Carmen’s thigh, Silver plunged his tongue in deep, rolling his head with each lick. She thought she would scream, but all that came out were quiet moans of satisfaction. Her hands tried to grab at something, to distract her from the sensation long enough to hold her rapidly approaching climax. She settled on resting her hand on his head, pushing him in further. 

Her legs went slack, shaking with desire. He gave a few more licks, before pulling back and running his tongue over her clit. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure over Carmen, making her cry out and arch her back, wanting to be filled again. 

Then, he pulled back, fur slick with her arousal. Breathing heavy, the Wolf stared at her entrance, his warm breath tickling her wet folds. Leaning down, he licked the ground and lapped up every drop of her that had spilled out. 

He picked her up off the ground, pressing her to the wall. Carmen’s legs snaked around his waist, barely able to hold herself up. Rocking his hips, Silver, growled in her ear. The breath tickled the curve of her neck, making her shiver. 

“Tell me you want it.” He rasped, the tip prodding against her. She could feel their fluids mixing together, dirtying the cave floor. 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Carmen nodded. 

“P-Please.” She begged. 

Then, he entered her. She was so slick it slid right in. Once she’d wrapped around him, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down. Rolling his hips, he thrust up into her. Arms wrapped around Carmen’s body, he kept her from scraping against the stone of the cave. Cradling her head, he had her look at him. 

“Your pupils are so wide, I can’t see your iris anymore.” He growled, each thrust sending pleasure through Carmen. “I didn’t think my cock would fit, but you’re taking it so well.” The words weren’t teasing or hurtful, he seemed just as surprised as her. “It’s like you were made for me. There’s a little bit of the wolf getting teased out.” 

Carmen couldn’t deny the pleasure sweeping through her. She wriggled her hips and took him to the base, gripping him tighter. The growl that escaped him was one of pleasure. His thrusts were strong, each one filling her with white hot heat. Every moan and gasp that escaped her echoed loudly in the cave, no doubt funneling into the meadow. 

“Hold me tightly.” He encouraged her. “Scratch, bite, yell, let yourself fall to your base instincts.” His thrusts became almost vicious, impaling Carmen and reaching deeper than she thought possible. 

She screamed, tearing at his fur. The cries encouraged him further, and he bucked his hips hard, slamming into her. Bareback scraping against the wall, Carmen took it all in, pleasure building in her stomach and bringing her closer. 

There was no way she should have been able to take his cock. It was too big. The thought of it entering would have made her scoff, but now she was drawing it into her like it had always belonged. 

Then, she grew uncomfortably tight. Wincing, she dug her nails into his thick fur. Part of her was tempted to bite down on his shoulder, but the sensation would probably shock him into letting go of her. 

She grew more slick, wanting to take him all the way in, thicker cock be damned. It needed to be all the way inside when he came. Rolling her hips, she tried to press herself down against him when he thrust up. 

“Fuck… The knot.” Silver panted. “I’m about to-” 

He winced when she wrapped her legs tighter around him. “Wait, I’m going to-” His eyes were clouded with lust, his tongue lapping her neck. Words became grunts and growls 

Carmen’s body tensed. Throwing her head back, she nearly slammed it against the wall of the cave as the orgasm ripped through her. She clenched down onto the cock inside her. 

The pressure made Silver howl, and he erupted. Thick ropes of fluid filled Carmen, then dripped onto the floor. Two more aftershocks followed, although they paled in comparison to the first, merely spilling more onto the stone and Silver’s feet. 

Panting, Silver brought her down, collapsing onto the cave floor. His rapidly shrinking and softening cock was still slick with Carmen’s wetness. 

Carmen crawled over to him, falling onto his chest. His rapidly beating heart gradually slowed, his shallow breaths becoming deeper. Within moments, he was snoring. 

Closing her eyes, Carmen laid against his sleeping form. Even though he was a beast, it felt safe. His clawed hand rested against her thigh, the other encircling her chest and pulling her to him. 

***

Slants of light fell on Carmen. Groaning, she tried to move. Soreness filled her body, her joints and muscles straining against the movement as she tried to rouse herself. The floor underneath her was cold and hard. Hadn’t she closed the window last night? 

Looking down, she saw her naked body. Bruises traced up and down her hips and thighs. Stone was beneath her, scents of sex and animal mixing with her nose. 

Warm hands clutched her close. A half hard cock rubbed against her leg. 

“Mmm…” The person holding her groaned, pulling her back down to the ground. Stubble scraped against her bare shoulder, followed by a kiss. Squirming, she resisted the urge to twist away. 

“Morning.” The grogginess was clear in the voice. 

Carmen felt a familiar soreness between her legs. Panic seized her when she realized what had happened wasn’t a dream. 

Slowly, she turned to look down at her partner. 

And into the half asleep face of Doctor Remington. 

Next part here!