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caffeineforbucky · 3 years ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Summary: Your ex-husband wonders where the hell you're going in that pretty dress.

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky/Dilf!Bucky x Mom!Reader (One Shot)

WC: 8k or sm.

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+, Heavy Smut; pure filth, Praise kink, Oral; F! receiving, unprotected sex, angst, hurt, swearing, fluff at the end, I promise:)

A/N: I had an idea and fucking ran with it...this is the result. (BTW: I did not proofread this, so all mistakes are my own;)

Text dividers are by @natasharomanovf

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It wasn't his night to watch the kids.

You rarely asked him to—either you got held up at work or something came up but, tonight was different.

Tonight, you had a date.

It'd been four whole years since the divorce was final. Spending those years single and mourning what you had with James Buchanan Barnes. You didn't want to divorce him, remembering the nights deeply in love with the father of your children. You never stopped loving him with your entire soul but, somehow, it seemed as if he were lost—buried deep beneath the trenches, gripping onto the rifles and uncomfortable cots. Never mind that it was his idea. My delirium isn't good for the kids, for you.

Those words stood engraved into your tears as you signed the papers, not being able to meet his eyes in your lawyer's office. It was too painful. And Bucky knew that. Just as he knew that his head was in shambles. He didn't want to separate either—though, he felt as if he had no other choice. He gave you two choices—knowing damn well you weren't going to pick either option. He chose for you. The kids always come first.

"You look so pretty, momma!"

Your eyes meet your seven-year-old in the reflection of your mirror, taking in her toothy smile, her arms wrapped around a sherpa throw pillow that was displayed on your bed. "Thank you, baby," You sigh, your lips stretching into a soft smile.

The ringing of the front doorbell makes your heart jump in your chest. "I think your daddy's here," You say excitedly to your daughter. Admiring the way her eyes light up as she scrambles off your bed to greet her father.

"I got it, mom!" Your eldest son, Steven, alerts you—shouting from the front room as he pauses his video game.

You blow out a breath, turning to look back at the reflection of the woman in the mirror. She was beautiful. Clad in baby pink satin that hugged her curves, accentuated her waist and hips. The dress cut off mid-thigh, thin straps sitting flush against her shoulders with a simple pair of strappy heels. Damn, she was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Bucky greeted his son with a smile, reaching for the mop of hair to ruffle between his fingers. And he steps inside. "Hey, bud-"

"Daddy!" Becca shouts happily, her bare feet padding down the stairs as she runs to her dad with open arms. Bucky's smile grows wider, eyes crinkling with happiness at Becca's small arms wrapping around his neck as he goes to pick her up.

"Princess!" He chuckles heartily, rubbing circles on her back before peppering her cheek with kisses. "I missed you, bug."

"Mom's upstairs," Steven says monotony, sinking back into the sofa—taking the remote beside him to pick up where he left off. "She'll be down in a minute."

Bucky frowns softly, eyes flickering between the top of the stairs and the back of his son's head. He sets his daughter down. "Go get your mommy, bug." Becca wasted no time in running up the stairs. Bucky turns back to his son, heavy boots clunking against the wooden floors while he made his way over to the sofa, plopping down beside his fifteen-year-old. "I'm good too, Steven. Thanks for asking," He says, earning an eye roll from the teenager. "What? No, hi, dad?"

Something about the way Steven jerked from Bucky's touch made him realize that his son wasn't too pleased with him. Steven hadn't been pleased with his father since the divorce. He took it hard. Rebecca took it with flying colors, not even batting an eye at the meaning of the word divorce. "Look, Steve-"

"Save it," Steven said lowly, never taking his eyes off the game. "You can save your excuses and pity parade. I don't want to hear it, dad."

Just as Bucky was about to respond, the sound of your heels pulled him from the conversation—your perfume wafting around him. The sight of you made him rise to his feet, blazing eyes raking over your body in the kitchen across the way.

Becca ran right past him, almost dropping her father while his eyes never left you. Goddamn, you were fucking gorgeous, Bucky could feel his heart hammering against his chest, Levi's feeling just a tad tighter at the front. He didn't know where to look. From your legs to the way your dress clung to the body he never stopped dreaming about. He was completely enamored, and when your eyes met, he fell in love all over again. "H...Hey," He manages to choke out, hiking up the sleeves of his dark Henley, his boots treading close.

"Hey, Bucky," You said softly, eyes flickering down to your clutch—making sure you had everything you needed for the date. "Thanks for doing this. I just couldn't find a babysitter in time."

"They are my kids, too," He says jokingly. "It's not as if I'm a stranger."

"I know," You let out a breathy laugh, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear. "I didn't know if you had plans or..."

"I'm never too busy for you...and the kids, of course," His eyes look over you again, lingering a bit too long over your cleavage, and how he swore there was a shimmer on your skin. God, the things he wanted to do to you. "Where are you headed in that pretty dress, honey?"

"I, uh, have a...date," You say cautiously, regarding the way he took a step back, pain crossing his features.

"You have a date?" He mumbles, brows softening—his eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion though it made you feel guilty. "We've finally come to that, huh?"

"What?" You mumble, knowing damn well what he meant.

"The seeing other people stage," He answers, almost indignant with his tone, and yet? He was still hurt. What did he expect? For you to be standing where he left you with open arms? No, he had to let go at some point, and seeing you dressed up for another man was definitely a wake-up call. "I didn't think it'd be here so soon, is all."

"It's been four years, Bucky." You remind him, making him nod along in agreement. "What did you expect me to do?"

The doorbell sounds again, followed by a knock—signaling that your date was here. Your eyes flickered to your ex-husband, wanting nothing more than to cancel the date and just stay home but, you couldn't keep a grip on the past. James was no more, and you were tired of holding out hope for the man you loved. "I gotta go," You whisper, taking your coat from the counter to feed it through your arms. You brush past James, heels clicking over to your kids on the couch. "Mommy's heading out," You quaver, feeling a knot at the base of your throat. "Kiss goodbye?" You asked, holding out your arms for Becca.

She giggles, hopping off the sofa to place a big sloppy kiss on your cheek. "Love you, momma!"

You smile, letting yourself forget about the past as you gazed into your daughter's eyes. "Love you too, peanut," You whispered, placing a chaste kiss onto her forehead before your eyes flickered to your son.

"Hey,"

His eyes shift to you, responding when first called.

"I'll be back at eleven. Pizza money is on the counter under the house phone. If you need me to come home, give me a call and I'll be here, okay? Dad will be here but, still. And be nice," You whispered the last of your sentence, not wanting Bucky to overhear. "Your dad's here, that's all that matters."

Steven doesn't say much, only nodding his head softly, lowering his head before returning to his game.

"Steven," You called firmly, letting him regard you, the game fully paused. "I want to hear it. Tell me you understand."

He sighs loudly, pushing his back from the back cushions. "Yes, mom."

You smile in response, stepping closer to peck his forehead. "I love you, kid. I'll see you guys in a bit."

"Love you, too," He grumbles, wiping away your kiss with disgust. It makes you laugh.

Bucky had taken it upon himself to answer the door. He just wants to see if he compared to the man, his words. "Bucky," You hiss, heels clicking faster as you jog over to your date standing at the entryway.

He only shrugs, leaning against the wall beside the door.

"Wow," Your date whistles, a bouquet of red roses in his clutch. "You look stunning."

You smile shyly, taking the roses from his offering hand. "Thank you, Daniel."

Bucky scoffs loudly, not even the slightest bit impressed. Roses? Seriously? What kind of cliché motherfucker was this guy? You hated roses, tulips were your favorite and if he'd taken the time to get to know you, he'd of gotten you tulips. You shoot a glare at your ex before returning to Daniel. "Ready to go?"

He nods, outstretching his palm for you to take. It was then that your first date with Bucky flashed through your mind. Though Bucky gave you pink tulips, and you remember falling hard for the man that day.

You mentally shook away those memories, flashing a smile as you take Daniel's hand. You glance over your shoulder, handing the bouquet to Bucky. "Put those in some water for me, please? I'll be back at eleven."

And before Bucky could stop you, you were already out the door.

"A date?"

"Yeah," Bucky replies in an undertone, gaze fixated on the roses in the crystal glass as he stood behind the island in the kitchen. "She left like an hour ago."

"And you're...upset about that?" Sam's curiosity echoed throughout the kitchen—the call on speaker. The kids were already tucked into their beds. Though it was a Friday night, he knew you didn't like it when the kids stayed up past ten. You were pretty anal about that.

Was he upset? Of-fucking-course. That wasn't even the right word to describe the way he felt. Bucky was seething—jealousy oozing from every pore in his body. "She's my wife, Sam," He grunts, lifting his left hand to look at the gold band wrapped around his ring finger—watching it glimmer underneath the dim lighting emanating from the light above the stove.

"Was," Sam chides, compelling Bucky to kiss his teeth with a scoff. "She was your wife. Seems like you keep forgetting that."

"Sam-"

"It's been four years, Buck. Why does it matter on the night she's finally taking for herself?"

He had a point. Fucking hell, did he have a point. Why did it matter tonight? This is what he was afraid of. Bucky hadn't thought about what it might look like when you found another to warm your bed, win the hearts of the kids. It was his nightmare, and yeah, it was his own damn fault. If he hadn't asked for a divorce, you wouldn't be out. You'd be in his arms, laughing about something he said while whispering that you loved him between his lips.

He missed you so fucking much. He missed the sound of your heartbeat and your infectious laugh. He missed waking up to your beautiful smile every morning. He reveled in the thought of having you in his arms, holding you as if you'd slip away into the night. He loved you, God, he loved you, and if Bucky had the opportunity, he'd travel in time to stop himself from committing the worst mistake of his life. "I love her, Sam," Bucky answers him softly, earning a heavy sigh on his end. "I never fell out of love,"

"So then, why the divorce? I mean, I know you had some shit going on with your mental health and all but, if you love her like you say you do, you would've let her in, man." Sam was in the middle of setting up the chairs for his counseling meeting—the sound of metal clanking in the background. "Look, Buck, Imma be straight with you."

Bucky pulls out a stool from underneath the island, plopping down to take a seat before he grabs his phone and removes it from the speaker, placing the mic against the shell of his ear.

"You still talkin' with Raynor?"

"Every week, twice a week for the past four years," Bucky replies, petting down the light beard above his full lips. "I mean, in regards to the seeing other people aspect, my therapist is the only woman I've been seeing on end."

That makes Sam let out a chuckle, though humorless. "And have you been one-hundred percent honest with her about what's been going on with you?"

You'd have to be clueless to not know where Sam was going with this, and Bucky knew the exact location. Even if Bucky wasn't entirely honest with his therapist, he said enough for his doctor to diagnose a plethora of things that were keeping him captive in his own mind. "You don't have to beat around the bush, Samuel. Just tell me what you wanna say."

"I just think it's funny that you're willing to pour your heart out to someone you paying to listen when you had a wife at home who was more than willing to stick by your side through the rough patches. Your wife would've gone to hell and back if it meant that you would be honest with what started it all. She loved you, Buck. I think she still loves you and this date that you're so against?" Sam sighs again, Bucky's silence speaking volumes on the other end. "I don't think you've taken her feelings into consideration. What did you expect, dude? For her to be sitting right where you left her? To pick up where you left off?"

Bucky blinked away the burning at the back of his eyes, his head falling in shame. His tongue darts between his lips, moistening the cracks that had begun to dry. "No," He whispered, softly shaking his head. "Of course not. I just-"

"What?" Sam interjects, cutting the sergeant short. "You just thought you could rush back into her arms as if there was never pain?"

Bucky started to wonder why he even called Sam in the first place. Was it to complain about you going out? Or was it because he knew Sam didn't give a rat's ass about his feelings? No bullshit, no lies. Sam was too honest for his own good.

"She called me the night you asked for a divorce," Sam confesses, and Bucky's head rises slowly. Sam whistles loudly, for sure shaking his head in disapproval. "Know what she said to me? God, and I'll never forget the way it made me feel."

He didn't reply, the mere silence giving Sam the greenlight to continue. Bucky chewed on his lip, waiting for Sam to speak.

"She said, and I quote, "The hardest part was of him leaving and asking for a divorce is that the kids? Me? The love I had? It wasn't enough to make him stay. Why wasn't I enough?"

The tears had managed to escape the ducts, eyes shutting tight—all Bucky could feel was a fist to his stomach, guilt rising to the surface of his throat. "She was," He croaks, bitterly wiping away the tears from his cheeks with his free hand. "They were. They were more than enough."

"I think it's finally time you came clean to the woman you love."

You came home earlier than expected, keys jingling as you turned the knob to your front door to push it open. As soon as you stepped inside, you were met with darkness. The only light you could make out was coming from the kitchen and the silence let you know that the kids were probably asleep.

"Hey, doll," Bucky stepped out from the kitchen, watching as you quietly shut the door, twisting the nibs to lock it. He glances down at his watch, frowning softly at the time displayed on his wrist. "You're not supposed to be back for another hour,"

You rest the back of your head against the door, sighing heavily as you met his baby blues for a brief moment, and Bucky swore his heart stopped. "I can't come home early?" You spat, making him swallow hard.

You tune out his response, eyes zeroing in on the vase of roses sitting on your kitchen island. Pushing off the door, you brush past Bucky and go straight for the bouquet. He turns on his heel with the draft of air you created, observing as you take the roses from the vase in an angry grip, heels clicking over to the waste bin, and you press the trigger with the tip of your heel—chucking them into the bin with the rest of the garbage. "I hated roses anyway," You muttered, sweeping up the crystal vase to place in the sink.

Your fingers grip the edges of the sink, projecting your weight into your arms, head looking below at the tile.

"So," Bucky voices, stepping a foot closer to you from where he originally stood. "I take it the date went well?"

You laugh. You actually laugh—head rising slowly before you glance over your shoulder to look at your ex-husband. "What gave you that impression?" You quip, earning a cheeky smile from him.

"What happened, honey?" He treads lightly, tone as soft as a feather, and he pulls up the same stool he occupied earlier. "Do I need to beat the shit out of someone?"

You shake your head, turning fully to lean the small of your back against the basin. "You up for a drink?" You huff, stepping over to the glass cupboards to take down two whiskey glasses, followed by a bottle of top-shelf whiskey that was gifted to you one Christmas years back. You never drank it, saving the expensive bottle for a rainy day.

You head over to where Bucky sat, placing down both glasses, and you pop the bottle open, aromatics of wheat and barley wafting into your nostrils. You pour a glass for Bucky first, filling the 7-ounce cup halfway before you carefully slide it towards him.

He catches it in one swift motion, bringing the rim to his lips to take a sip. It trickles down his throat smoothly, only burning a tad but, it was good. Better than what he had a home or a bar. "It's good," He notes, eyes flickering to meet your pretty face.

Trusting his word, you poured yourself a glass and threw the entire thing down the hatch. Bucky was almost impressed. Though you never indulged in a bender—you were pretty good at holding your own. You serve another glass, taking your time with the second helping. "Let's just say...it didn't end the way he'd hoped." You shake your head again, gazing down at your drink. "Why do men think that saying yes to a date is an open invitation into your pants?"

Bucky almost broke the crystal with how hard he gripped onto it upon hearing what happened. It was a good thing the glass was in his human hand. "What?" He griped, jaw grounding tightly. "Did he...?" Bucky pushed harshly from the chair, almost dropping the stool to the ground.

"No," You responded immediately, compelling him to sink back into the stool. "I went to the bathroom and called an Uber, snuck out from the back, and left. I'm fine, okay? Promise."

"You should've called me, doll," He rebukes, brows pinched in concern. "I would've picked you up."

"You were my first choice but, I didn't want you to leave the kids alone." You answer softly, raising your glass to take a drink. "Let it be the last time I go out on a date. Never again."

Bucky tilts his head to the left, smiling coyly before he takes a swig—brow lifting condescendingly.

"What's that face?"

"What face?" He asks, lips pulling into a wanton smirk.

You tip your glass towards him, letting yourself smile as well. "That face."

"Jus' remembering our first date is all," Bucky mumbles into the glass, shrugging nonchalantly. "You were so pretty in that pink dress, kinda like the one you're wearing now," He mentions, gesturing to the color peeking through your coat. "I remember thinking, damn, what the hell is a girl this beautiful doing going out with a guy like me? I don't know but, what I do know is that you get more gorgeous every fucking time I see you."

You couldn't decipher if it was the whiskey or the way he spoke, but you were suddenly too warm. Your cheeks burned profusely, heat pulsating throughout your body—your coat becoming too much on you but, you couldn't take it off now. It's not as if you and Bucky were strangers but, you hadn't felt his hands on you for four years, and you couldn't let your arousal take over your common sense.

"I've been meaning to have a talk with you, honey," Bucky chimes, oblivious to the tension he'd created and the pulse between your legs. "I know right now isn't the best time but, I'm afraid if I don't get this out right now, I won't ever."

He set the glass back down, and that's when you saw it—he was still wearing his wedding ring. You felt a phantom squeeze your heart in your chest, drawing in your lips to keep yourself from smiling. To you, it meant something. It made you feel slightly better since you had your ring looped around a chain, and you'd wear it often. It meant hope. Hope for the future, hope for the man you loved deeply.

You pull out a stool from the other side, sliding under the island with your leg crossed over the other. "Okay," You oblige, waiting patiently for his next move.

"There aren't many things I don't regret in my life," He begins, reaching for the bottle to top himself off. "For example, I don't regret asking you out or asking you to be my girlfriend then my wife. I'd do those things all over again, doll. In a fucking heartbeat, but," He stops for a brief moment, meeting the eyes that drew him in from the jump. He took in the way they glittered, glossing over with a fresh layer of tears. How that pretty smile held the weight of what he did to you. "My biggest regret of all is leaving you and the kids."

You inhaled sharply, taken aback at his confession. After four fucking years, this is where you ended up—having the conversation in the middle of your kitchen of all places. You found yourself starting to frown, brows pinched together as the vexation had started creep up your neck. "Why?" It was all you could conjure. Of course, other questions were running through your mind but, this was the first to fall from your lips. "Why did you leave? W...Why did you stop loving me?" Your voice suddenly breaks at the end, and Bucky immediately rises from his seat, boots clunking over to the other side to stand beside you.

You turn your body towards him, observing as he drops to his knees, taking your hands in his. "Never," He breathes, bringing them close to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "I never stopped loving you, honey. I was in love with you then, and I'm in love with you now. Not a day goes by without me thinking about us and what we had. It was special, I know you felt it, and I haven't let that go."

"Wanna know what the hardest part was?" You whisper, feeling a single tear trail down your rose blush, your hands still in his. Bucky knew, he already knew the answer to that, having talked with Sam a while ago but, he let you speak anyway. "The realization that you weren't coming back to me, to us. The only reason I decided to go on that stupid date was to get over you," You ignore his stunned expression, continuing on. "I got tired of waiting for you, having decided, at last, you need me or not. I was so angry and hurt with you. I remember feeling so shitty because I couldn't—you wouldn't let me help you. I just wanted to fucking be there with you, for you, and you didn't want it. You didn't want me."

Bucky didn't know what to say. Most of what you were saying was true. The only lie was him not wanting you because, Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted to drown in you and never come back up for air. He wanted you to consume him—swallow him whole as if you were the ocean; crashing, and bold. He wanted—needed—you. "You're wrong, honey. I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me every fucking day of the year, and the next years to come."

There's that heat again, sizzling your skin and bones—your thighs aching from having them pressed tightly against one another. You swallow hard, shaking your head at him, and you rip your hands out of his grasp as you slide off the stool. "Don't," You say lowly, licking the residue of gloss from your lips. "Don't say those things when you don't mean them. That's cruel, Bucky."

"I do mean them," He almost whines, standing on his two feet now, pushing the stool out of the way to get closer to you. "I mean them with all of my heart, baby. I want you back. I want to be your husband again, and I want you to be my wife until the day I die."

Baby did something to you, the endearing name sending a jolt of excitement down to your core. You wanted him, god, you wanted him but, you knew better. You wanted to believe him, welcome him back in your arms, but you were scared. What if it happened again? What if he decided to leave again, break your heart and the kids' hearts again. You could handle another heartbreak, but not your children. "I...I can't. I won't go through that again, Bucky. I won't do that to the kids. They come first." You had managed to back yourself into the counter—fingers tucking underneath the edges as he traps you between his arms.

"I won't ever put you through that again, baby. I'll be damned if I ever make you cry for the second time. Please, honey," He pleads, his baby blues boring into yours. "I'm so fucking sorry, I...please forgive me," He pleads, leaning forward to touch his forehead with yours, breaths mixing from his proximity. "I love you so much."

Your eyes fluttered shut, his soft lips brush up against yours, and for the first time in four years—desire coursed through your veins. Rather than idling any longer, you let your lips speak for you—encapturing his mouth onto yours. Bliss, complete and unadulterated bliss was all you felt. You were no stranger to his taste, to his lips. They were made for you, always and forever.

Bucky wasted no time, his fingers diving into your hair, lifting your chin to kiss you at a better angle, palms resting against your warm cheeks—one hot, one cold.

You hummed into his mouth, shaking hands gliding up his clothed chest to curl your fingers around the fabric of his Henley. You both tasted of whiskey to each other, your passionate kiss fueled by lust and eighty-dollar liquor. Though you couldn't get enough of his lips, you needed more, and he knew it.

Bucky's hands fall from your cheeks, untangling his fingers from your hair—resting his metal hand at the nape of your neck while the other reached between your bodies to undo the buttons on your coat. His lips peck the corner of your mouth, leaving kisses in their wake along the curvature of your neck. He tucks both of his hands underneath your coat and pushes the fabric off your shoulders.

Your skin was met with the biting cold from the broadness of your kitchen but the warmth radiating from Bucky's body was enough to settle the shivers down your spine. You could feel how hard he was as his body pressed into yours, a whimper falling past your lips. He groans loudly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he goes to take hold of your hips. "Fuck, honey," His eyes flickering to every asset on you. "What the fuck was I thinking? Walking away from you. I'm an idiot, a goddamn fool." He grunts, hoisting you up to sit on the counter—the cold marble tops stinging the back of your thighs.

Your breaths are labored, ragged breaths inhaling his cologne as it engulfed you, scents of teakwood and musk filling your senses, and you swore you could taste it on your tongue. Bucky settles himself between your knees, kissing down your collar bone and chest until he got to the swell of your breasts, grounding his teeth onto the soft skin as he began to suck a bruise onto your breast.

His hands remained on your thighs, slowly inching higher until he had managed to hook his fingers onto the lacy band of your thong, teasingly yanking them down your delicious thighs and calves then off your heels to shove it into the front pocket of his Levi's. "I gotta taste you," He breathes heavily against your skin, rising to capture your lips. "It's been too long since I've had you, baby."

Bucky sinks to the floor, taking your legs in his grasp to drag you closer to the edge, your ass pressed into the ridge. It hurt but not enough to complain. "Bucky," You whisper, moaning as your head lolls back at the feel of his wet hot lips dragging against your calves, inching towards your thighs and his eyes never left yours. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this good, missing the way he used to touch you and please you, and now? It was finally happening. Thank god the kids had bedrooms upstairs.

Your entire body burned for him, fingers combing through his hair while he continued his assault on your inner thighs, completely ignoring where you needed him most. But, you couldn't complain, enjoying that he was taking his time to worship your body.

As soon as his lips touched your pussy, you hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, pulling him in with a gasp as his tongue dragged through your folds with one long stripe. "Oh, god," You whimpered, falling back onto your forearms—both of his hands wrapped around the apex of each thigh.

"It's just me, honey. Fuck, just as sweet as I remember," Bucky growls, diving back in, only this time, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. "Mmm, so good, doll," He moans, burying his face between your legs—his warm tongue working wonders, his beard burning so good it almost hurts. Bucky swore he'd almost forgotten what you tasted like, your sweet juices rekindling the pallet he saved just for you. Fuck, he couldn't get enough. You were more than he would ever need.

You wanted to scream, cry out his name while he pleasured you but, you couldn't for fear of the kids walking in on you both. Bucky found rapture in your breathy moans, your manicured fingernails scratching through his scalp—whispering sweet praises between you. You're so good, Bucky. It feels so good. I missed the way your mouth felt. He reveled in it, he could almost finish from the way you pulled on his hair—pulling forward, and pushing back. "I know, baby. I got you, honey."

He spreads your glistening folds apart, dragging the tip of his metal finger to graze your bundle of nerves. You shiver, the frigid appendage exciting you in more ways than one. "Oh," Bucky moans lowly, circling his index around your pulsating entrance—clenching around nothing. "Is this all for me?" He looks up at you. Glittery eyes encapsulating lust, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, awaiting what was to come. "You're so wet for me, honey. You're fucking dripping, look at all the mess you're making, you dirty girl. Aww, baby, I haven't even made you come, and you're already cock drunk, aren't ya?"

If Bucky learned anything from pleasing you, it's that you fucking loved when he spoke to you like this. No one compared to the man above you, and no one would ever come close to what Bucky did to you. He was the only one you wanted to touch. You could only nod in response, too agitated to choke out a sentence.

"Don't worry, babydoll. I'm gonna clean you up with nothing but my tongue." You moaned at his words, earning a devilish grin from your ex-husband. "Is that what you want? Want me to suck and lick this sweet pussy? Want me to fuck you with my fingers too? Yeah, you do, don't you? Fuck, I'm gonna taking my sweet ass time, too."

He slowly pumps in a finger, adding another before curling them inside you, tongue following after. You fell onto your back, heels locked around his back, hands holding his head in place as your hips grind against him. "Yes, yes, don't stop, Bucky! Don't fucking stop!"

He worked at a pace, his warm lips wrapping around your clit and he began to suck, pumping his cool metal fingers inside of you. You couldn't believe this was happening. Here you were, legs spread on top of your kitchen counter while your ex-husband ate you out. It was straight out of a porno. Dirty, lewd, and fan-fucking-tastic.

Bucky could feel you starting to clench around his fingers, your orgasm teetering, as if it were at the edge of a cliff, and all it needed was a tap to push you off the edge. "Can feel you squeezin' my fucking fingers. Come on, babydoll, come for me. Come all over my fuckin' fingers."

That was it. The coil snapped, bringing to you to sweet release as he replaces his fingers with his tongue once again. "Ohh, Bucky..." You drag out, grinding against him, riding out your high while he slurped up your new wave of slick.

"Atta girl," He growls, sloppily kissing your folds. "That's my good girl."

Your chest heaved while you sat up, taking the collar of his Henley to yank him up, smashing your lips to his. You could taste yourself on his tongue, his lips and beard covered in your arousal, but you didn't care. If anything, it only added more fuel to your fire. "Fuck me," You moaned against his mouth, looking up at him through your painted lashes, and Bucky swore it ended him. "Make love to me, James."

Fucking hell.

He gives you a guttural moan, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You knew what calling him James did to him, and he hadn't heard it in so long that he thought he was dreaming. "I need to hear it again, honey. Let me hear it, please, doll."

With a wanton smile, you tug him closer, kissing his lips tenderly. "I want you to make love to me, James."

And that was it. The black of his eyes took over his baby blues. Something inside him snapped, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging into you so beautifully and without warning, he'd taken your thighs in his grasp, hoisting you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom you once shared together.

He was fast but, quiet enough to not wake the sleeping children. It was lucky that your bedroom was at the end of the hall, the furthest away from the kids' bedrooms.

He steps inside the dark of the room with you in his arms, attacking the sweet spot of your neck with his mouth, and he kicks the door shut with the side of his boot. The only light that illuminated you both was the light coming from one of the bedside tables. He sets you down on the foot of the California king, never breaking away from your kiss while he maneuvered out of his Henley, tossing the article somewhere on the floor. "You sure about this, honey? Don't want you to regret this in the mornin'."

"I won't," You respond, voice barely above a whisper, taking the dog tags that hung around his neck between your finger and thumb, tracing the engraved letters. "I want you, Bucky."

He didn't need any more convincing on your part, secretly hoping for those words to come out of your pretty lips. "Scoot back, baby. Spread those legs for me and leave that sexy dress on. " And you do, hooking your fingers underneath the hem to teasingly hike it above your thighs—giving your ex-husband a show while you dip your hand below, spreading your slick with your fingers, moaning softly. "Fuck, you look so good waiting for me, ready for my cock."

"Yes," You mewl, eyes closing with the sound of his belt buckle followed by his zipper. "I want to feel you. No more teasing, baby, please."

Bucky kissed his way up, your body writhing underneath him—dog tags grazing behind. He stops above the neckline of your tight dress, metal hand tugging it down to reveal your chest, breasts falling out and he immediately attacks them both, the swirling and flickering of his tongue making your moans more frequent; louder, even.

His lips cover yours with a hard kiss, muffling your moans, his hand reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his hardened cock, guiding the head to rub his precum against you before slowly pushing himself into your entrance.

"Oh, god, Bucky!" You gasp, forgetting for a moment how big he was. How thick and good he felt inside of you. Bucky rises from your body, pulling your bottom half flush against him, pulling out and thrusting back in.

"That's it. That's my girl," Bucky pushes the fabric over your belly, admiring the small bulge from how deep he was. "You feel that, honey?" He groans, pushing down against it, earning a mewl from you. "God, I'm so fucking deep 'side you, baby." He keeps his hand pressed down, his hip rolling against you; roughly, and passionately. "So good for me."

You couldn't help but wrap your calf around his waist, reaching for his shoulders to tug him down and press your lips to his, all tongue and gnashing teeth. "Feels so good, James. You're so big, so fucking good." You hook your arms under him, hands grazing his backside—muscles contorting with every move he made and feel of your hands.

Bucky felt his chest swell with pride, knowing that he was the only one who made you moan like this. He was the one who turned you on, the only one who could touch you in ways you imagined. He hadn't had sex in so long. he couldn't fathom ever touching another woman besides you. It was built, pent-up frustration and sexual drive that sparked him to the fires. He was going to make you come, over and over again till you begged him to stop. "Good girl—that's a good fucking girl," He praises, bringing a familiar curl in the pit of your stomach.

You claw at his back, nails scraping down his shoulder blades as you throw your head back against the pillows. "Ah, fuck! Right there, right fucking there!" His cock grazing your g-spot at the deeper rock of his hips. "Bucky, I'm gonna-"

He pulls out quickly, and just as you were about to complain, his mouth replaced his dick—eating you out once again. Your hand clenched at the sheets beneath you, your body shuttering as your second orgasm washes over you. And he stayed there, never letting me up, eating at you like a man starved. As if he never had a meal in his life. Bucky could die between your legs, and he'd be content.

You were so sure you were fresh out of moans, voice raw and strained—unsure of what to grab at anymore. Did you pull his hair, the sheets? He was spelling out your names and the whole fucking alphabet with his tongue, plunging three of his metal fingers into your pussy. "This pussy is mine, you hear me? It belongs to me, and only me, honey. You belong to me."

"It's always...been y...yours, Bucky," You keen, loving the cool metal inside of you. "I was always yours." And you're coming again, your body covered in a fresh sheen of sweat. You didn't know if you could handle any more, and before you knew it, he thrusts back into you with one fell swoop. "Oh, baby, Fuck me, James. Harder..."

He was relentless, fucking into you with all he had—skin slapping against one another. "Shit!" He groans, his lower stomach tightening as he felt his orgasm near. Though he wouldn't finish until he had unwinding beneath him. He needed to hear you scream his name over and over again. At this point, he didn't care if he woke up the whole fucking neighborhood, he was going to make you beg. "I know baby, I know," He moans, soft whimpers eliciting from you. "You feel fucking amazing."

His hips had begun to stutter, his cock twitching against your warm, wet walls that had started to squeeze the life out of his dick. "Come on, honey," He grunts, holding onto your hips for dear life. "Milk my fuckin' cock for me, can feel you squeezing me; so tight. Your pussy was made for me,"

"Yes, oh, god, yes!" Your walls tensed around his girth as you came hard, Bucky following—his body slumps against you, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he spills into you, his warm cum filling you up so good it has you seeing stars. "Fuck," You groan rawly, his cock slowly pumping into you.

Bucky didn't want to stop but, he could see the fatigue in your eyes—your lazy smile as he rose from your neck to meet your eyes. You were tired, and he was going to let you sleep.

Gently pulling out, he crawls off the bed, padding into your bathroom to grab a warm, wet washcloth to clean you up—removing your strappy heels and helping you out of that dress while he pulls on his boxers.

"Stay with me," You whisper, tearing his eyes away from the jeans he plucked from the floor to meet your hazy eyes, not sure if he heard you clearly. You sit up, crawling to the end of the bed to reach for his hand. "I want you to stay."

He nods, smiling softly, and he drops his jeans to grab his Henley. "Okay," He concurs, turning the long-sleeve outside-in before placing it over your head, letting you feed your arms through. "I love you, you know that, right?" He asks, watching you get settled into bed, making up the left side for him. "I love our kids, and I love our family."

"I know, Bucky," You flash him a reassuring smile, patting the empty spot beside you. He couldn't hide the smile that took over his features, taking a few strides to slide in the bed next to you, right where he belonged. You reach over to shut the light off, sinking into the blankets once the full darkness had enveloped you. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against his chest, lips coming down to chastely kiss your cheek. "And we missed you dearly."

You woke up to an empty bed, the smell of bacon gracing your nostrils as you sat up, stealing a glimpse of the time on the clock.

It was early, eight in the morning, to be exact. And you could only assume that the scent of food cooking was because of Bucky. He stayed, not only through the night but was making breakfast. Just as he had done a thousand times before. You kick off the blankets and sheets, scrambling to find some pants to pair with Bucky's shirt you still had on before you quickly brush your teeth and excitedly make your way down the stairs.

You felt like a child on Christmas day, but the only present you had was the love of your life in the kitchen. That was better than anything you could ever ask for. Turning the corner, your head further down—waltzing straight into the kitchen.

There he was.

Bucky stood tall above the stove, his broad back facing you while he flipped the seventh pancake to stack it onto the rest. You frown softly, wondering where he got the fresh set of pajamas. Then you remembered how you still kept some of his clothes in your drawers and in the back of your closet—hoping that one day, he'd come back to you.

You quietly pad towards him, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek into his t-shirt. "Good morning," You hum contently as he turns around in your arms, smiling down at you.

"Mornin' honey," He greets you, leaning down to slant his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and a hint of peppermint, a strange combination but, it worked for him. "I missed this," He sighs, tucking your stray hair behind your ears. "I missed you."

"I was always here, my love," You go to cup his cheek, grazing his beard beneath the pad of your thumb. "I was just waiting on you."

Bucky grins widely, his eyes crinkling with felicity, and he dives his fingers into your hair, holding the back of your head to bring your lips closer to his, tenderly kissing you with every form of regret, guilt, and shame. But, his love for you was above everything else. Bucky poured his soul between your lips, dropping one of his hands to wrap around your back—holding you close to his chest.

"Woah."

You broke away in an instant, widened eyes meeting your son, who stood fifteen feet away from you. Steven's hands raised with surprise, disturbance written all over his face. "St...Steven," You stammer awkwardly, running your fingers through your hair nervously. "I—we—didn't think you'd be up till later."

"You hungry?" Bucky cuts in, turning to grab the plate of pancakes, bacon, and the bottle of syrup, to set in front of your son. "I made breakfast."

Steven's eyes dart between the two of you suspiciously, stepping closer to take a seat at the island. "Explains the smell," He mumbles, taking a clean plate from Bucky's grasp. "Did you stay the night?" The question was aimed towards his father. "Dad?"

"Uh," Bucky steps forward, leaning his forearms against the counter. "I hope that's okay with you."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?" Steven quips, cocking a brow at his dad as he takes two pancakes for his plate.

Bucky meets your gaze, lips parting slightly at the reversed question. He assumed Steven would've been furious but then again, what fifteen-year-old wouldn't want his parents back together? "I guess...I thought you'd be upset, is all."

Steven shakes his head, unscrewing the cap of the syrup. "Why would I be upset? Are you guys getting back together?"

The light pitter-patter of your daughter's feet distracted you from the question, her pretty little face coming into view. Rebecca yawns quietly, holding a stuffed bunny in her grasp—bunny slippers dragging across the tile to join Steven at the island. "G'morning," She grumbles, eyes half shut.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," You smile, walking over beside her to kiss the top of her head. "Are you hungry? Daddy made pancakes."

"Daddy's here?" She asks softly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before they fluttered open, capturing Bucky's gaze.

"Hey, princess," Bucky smiles gently at his daughter, going to kiss her forehead. "I'm here."

"Pancakes sound good," She concurs, nodding her head in agreement, making both you and Bucky laugh. "I want whipped cream on top!"

"You got it!" Bucky salutes her, walking to the fridge to pull out the canister of cool whip.

"You guys never answered my question," Steven pipes up, and Bucky halts at grabbing a clean plate for his daughter. Bucky looks over at you, seeming like he was waiting on confirmation as well.

You swallow hard, enjoying the image of your family stitched back together, and for the first time in a long time, you finally felt peace.

"If your mom would have me," Bucky says softly, pleading eyes boring into yours. "I'd like to come back home." He reaches over, taking your hand to intertwine your fingers.

Taking in a deep breath, you flash him a bright smile—grinning from ear to ear, nodding hastily at his ask. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

And he pulls you into a kiss, making the kids protest in disgust, but he was back. You had your Bucky right where you needed him most.

He was home.

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krankittoeleven · 2 years ago

Text

'Tober Prompt #2 - Custom

1989

Fandom: The Sandman (TV Show, I guess, cuz it's fresh in my mind)

Pair: can be seen as the first flickerings of Dream/Hob or completely non romantic, see it as you wish

Rating: G

Warnings: None, really. Just a quick drabble of some of Dream's musing during his stay at the Burgess estate.

UPDATE: Now Also Available on AO3, with minor editing.

it does not seem to be my Destiny to free myself in time; and it does not seem that my Desire be strong enough, though I would churn my Delight into Delirium if I thought it would set me free

1989

The day is close at hand, I know this to be true. Even here in my wretched prison, I can taste it in the sour, stale air. Something significant is happening and I am absent from its sphere of influence.

Was it yesterday?

Is it tomorrow?

Is it today?

I do not know for certain the hour, the day, the week, the year. Except I do because I know the day is near.

I hope you do not blame yourself for my absence.

Much to my utter disappointment, it does not seem to be my Destiny to free myself in time; and it does not seem that my Desire be strong enough, though I would churn my Delight into Delirium if I thought it would set me free.

Unfortunately, my siblings have never been that helpful, at least not to me, as it were.

It pains me to think you might blame yourself for the way our last meeting ended, when it was I who was the cad, the scoundrel; the heel. If I were human, I would probably be plagued with nightmares of that meeting. I think about it often.

I do so miss the dreaming. You humans dream of marvelous, frightful, incredible, beautiful things when you are not torturing yourselves. Much better than birds or goats or bees have ever dreamed. Would that I could walk with you, through the dreaming. Not the one in your head, but the one in mine.

For now, though, I remain trapped like a rare trinket in an expensive bauble, put on display for all the world to see; surrounded by the vast emptiness of loneliness and the echoing eternities of immortality. The boredom is enough to make an immortal wish for Death. If only my sister would be kind enough to oblige.

When I look beyond the glass of my confines I see stars, though not the stars that I am accustomed to. Nevertheless I wonder if, at that moment, you see the stars too.

And I wonder if you know that you were right, Hob Gadling.

You were right.

I should very much like to be your friend.

--------------------------------

It's just a first stab at writing Sandman fic. Perhaps there will be more in the future.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #dreamling #morpheus #the sandman netflix #fanfiction #my fanfiction #'tober #writetober

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void-tiger · 2 years ago

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Warning: Sandman Spoilers.

(I’d plop a Read More here except I can never remember how to do that in mobile, mobile is much friendlier in layout to how my brain functions than the full web-on-computer will ever be, and Readmores flatout break my ability to edit, say, tags after I hit that Post button.)

Right. Okay.

…I think what irritates me about the Endless Siblings?

Delirium Can Do No Wrong Because She Baby (which is true. We dunno what shit happened to her that forced her to shift from Delight to Delirium, but we know it was BAD) even when she torments mortals for her Games (just less maliciously than Desire and Despair; it’s debatable if she’s fully Aware of the consequence of what she’s doing), even when Delirium’s (understandable!) demand to have Destruction back actively kills people!

Or Destruction—who LEFT and almost demands the others to leave as well despite Not All Of Them CAN Leave (and to be frank? Him abandoning his post despite having Creation as his counter-domain is probably why, say, warfare became SO destructive SO rapidly followed by a technological boom)—and literally planted what might as well have been BOMBS in his closest friends if any of his siblings tried to find him.

Or Desire—who fucks around and NEVER has to find out. Who actively targets Dream and blames Dream for their bad relationship with their older brother…and never takes any accountability for their own part in it and continued active antagonism and actively trying to DESTROY Dream either by spilling family blood and igniting the Kindly Ones’ Wrath and using Dream’s Own Function against him…or by risking Dream shifting into something Not Dream Any Longer. (And the absolute Irony of Desire being the one (1) sibling to EVER help, then gets pissed off and antagonizes further. Gee, Desire. I wonder why Dream doesn’t ask and if he asks you he asks you last!)

Or Despair. Who plays games beyond her function, and this aspect of Despair seemingly ignoring her counter-function of Hope, and is a co-conspirator albeit passive co-conspirator in Desire’s torment of Dream in much the same way as a pair of school-aged Mean Girls

Or Destiny. Who so rarely shows that he cares, uses his Book as a Defense Mechanism Excuse in a similar way as Dream does his Pride (and being prickly by-nature but most of his standoffish-ness is honestly a defense against Holding ALL Of Subconscious + His Family’s A Bunch Of Assholes (Too)). And if he does anything “outside his Book” or “finally acts within the Book” …he denies it’s because he cares. It’s to berate for showing up in jeans or someone else leaving their stuff in his room (even when someone else left it)

Or Death. Who had her own Edgelord Phase that lasted for eons before her younger siblings even existed. Who never once actually came to help yet berates Dream for not asking her when he wound up in Serious Trouble…again. (And not by his own fault, unless you want to count fixing a past mistake seriously draining him to the point he could he snared by Desire’s (and Despair’s but mostly Desire’s) Trap.)

…They’re ALL Assholes, Jared!

But only ONE of them is held to a standard none of the rest of them even bother to live to and gets actively punished for it at every turn, even when he tries to reach out, do better. (And yes, Morpheus!Dream has some serious fuckups. But. So do the rest of them. And he’s kinda the only one held accountable for them + some things that really aren’t his fault or are actively traumatic and he doesn’t really have a way to safely recover from without, y’know, affecting the Dreaming and all the dreamers! And it’s not for a lack of trying or continuing to try, despite his natural stubbornness, prickliness, introversion, and avoidance!)

#sandman spoilers #endless siblings #tiger’s roar #…possibly morpheus!dream apologica but fuck it #I was reflecting on WHY I’m so defensive of Dream and. well.#it’s kinda because of how my own family and school environment treated me #for being ‘an angry child’ or ‘back talking’ when. it was always defensive. I never started it. ever.#and. like Dream. what made the difference? people Actively Showing that they loved me and cared #that despite ‘not handling things as well as I should’ I still didn’t deserve THAT #and learning that having Bad Days with my mental health where everything ‘sets me off’ doesn’t make me a bad person #as long as I didn’t. y’know. take it out on anyone #I may be responsible for my own self #but others are responsible for not deliberately trying to hurt me or my trust or my boundaries #I Am Not Responsible for them choosing to hurt or disregard me!#…honestly I wish I could just take morpheus!dream #give him a hug (if he’d allow it). reassure him that being grouchy or depressed etc isn’t a bad thing. it just Is #let him Finally grieve and cry and rage in a place that WON’T flood or raze or affect everyone’s dreams #encourage him that it’s okay to grow and do better #(and fuck anyone who takes advantage of that and his sensitivity)#just. the guy needs therapy!! allowed to feel things without Instant Subconcious And Literal Consoquences!!#think there’s a term in family therapy for Dream: diagnosed problem.#(if I’m remembering Jono’s Terms in CinemaTherapy/MendedLight correctly)#and well. Even When! the Diagnosed Problem is ‘doing better’ things are STILL Fucked Up #because guess what! they weren’t the (only) problem at all!!#and well. him feeling things So Deeply and He DOES Care Actually (but clamping things down into a ‘resting bitch face’)?#WHAT A FUCKING MOOD.

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years ago

Text

By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #Yandere kaeya #Platonic yandere #Yandere #my writing

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Text

I feel, and it sucks

Pairings | Damon Salvatore x reader. Eric Northman x reader

Summary | after moving away from Mystic Falls, you finally return, and Damon is prepared to see you again. The only problem is, that you aren’t alone...

Warnings | includes angst, mentions of a breakup, sorta lead up to smut and mentions of it, blood play/kink, tiny bit of violence

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

He cared not for the lack of logic that ran through his mind. Not as he went towards your home, you had returned from your year long departure. Mystic Falls had been left in your rear view as you went to a place called Bon Temps.

As much as Damon wished to chase after you, he’d have crawled if he could, he respected your desire to leave everything behind, and move on. And that included him, the man that you had loved, and the one that was profusely enamoured in you.

But now, he had the opportunity to whisk you back into his immortal embrace, and forever be by your side, to protect you, and spend every waking moment with you. Stefan would call him sappy for his advances, but his brother’s opinion simply did not matter. He was so close to being happy again, and he couldn’t deny he was reeled in by the prospect.

Damon was eager to make you pancakes every morning, waking you up with the aroma of breakfast on a tray that he greeted you with in bed. Or even the simple excitement of watching your various expressions whilst reading twilight; ugh, he hated that book, but he would willingly endure its presence if that meant he could become wrapped up in you once more.

But he had to see you first, and get past that progression again. Whilst you had been gone, and in that other town, he had become lost. No amount of bourbon drinking, or hanging out with Ric, could fix his settled mood. He felt like a sinking stone, drowning in the deep end, and remaining on the bottom of the bed, until he was washed away, back to shore.

And your return had done just that; grounded him. He wouldn’t feign to admit his immediate reaction when he first found out you were to come back to your original home. First, he had been in utter disbelief, hardly taking Bonnie’s statement seriously when she informed him of the ordeal.

But then, she showed him the messages that had transacted between the pair of you, and how you were eager to see her again. Nothing of him was mentioned in the conversation, although he was sure that the witch and you had spoken over call sometime after your surprise reveal.

The lack of voicing of your prior breakup gave him some hope; you were willing to take him back. And that was a possibility that he safely held onto, finding it to be a net for him to fall down onto. However, the prospect of a net was like that of a rocking boat, it had an inability stay still when it held a weight, and that mass of pounds was him.

And he knew, as you left, the thought of you had attempted to pull you back, and force you to stay with the selfish power. But as the past had played out, you had not let it, and so you left him all alone, in the claws of the Grill, which was somewhere he found himself to be often in general, but more so after your transcending departure.

The curtains to your room swayed with the evening wind, and he found himself to be enticed by the sight of the open window. It hadn’t been an unusual occurrence for him to climb through the ajar square, and talk about your day, and thus, make it better by his simple appearance.

But, he was deceived. What a fool he had been to think that you had not moved on from little old him, for there was a tall legged man over the top of you, both of your chests bare, and your mouth viscously devouring the inclination of the others. You were oblivious to his accidentally snooping presence, too distracted by the estranged blonde that was now teasing his lips down your throat.

The sight had him freeze, but he was incapable of interrupting whence he watched the man’s teeth sink into the parting of the bottom of your neck and your warm shoulder. It was no man, instead, he was much like him; a vampire. There was a ample difference though, he would never hurt you.

To Damon, you were a treasure, not an edible treat. And it sparked a pulse of fear through his entirety as he watched you be drained by this vile creature. Perhaps he were a hypocrite, he had done the same to many people countless times, and still continued to do so. But the food was not being extracted by anyone, it was being pulled from your veins, and making its way into this stranger’s awaiting mouth.

You shut up as something, a familiar blur, came crashing against Eric, sending his form flying off from your own, the intruder and him ending up on the floor. To cover up and show some surprised decency, you pulled the sheet upon yourself, stretching your red printed neck to view the scene below.

Eric was recomposing himself, shooting immortal daggers towards the reckless, who was... “Damon?” Seeing him once more was inevitable, but the scene of it was a dread of yours. And here he was, in your bedroom, the circumstances with much difference than from what they used to be.

At the sound of his name, both the strapping vampires turned towards you with fixed frowns, both worn for their own reasonable purposes. Damon was studying you, and understanding the scene, now seeing that you had been open to the removal of your blood, and this stranger was with you in some kind of way that he was not a fan of.

And Eric’s, well, it was a combined factor of fury, that was directed at the raven haired and uninvited visitor, and confusion, as he attempted to put together pieces of the puzzle that he was missing. He presumed correctly that the two of you had previously known each other, and thus, his intrusion could be explained, or so he hoped.

There was a longing wrenching in his dead gut, that there was something more than a friendship between you and this Damon. He was far too well adversed with the tell of history, that the looks the pair of you were silently exchanging were anything but friendly.

From the get go, there was a smouldering charm that reflected out of Damon’s blue eyes, and your own showed a conflict of interests. But nevertheless, you straightened your back up against the headboard of the bed, and questioned him. “What are you doing here?”

The interrogative underlining to your voice stung like a bee, but the younger of the two vampires refrained from wincing. That would only show a weakness towards the new vamp in town, and that was not the aim of his game.

“Bonnie told me that you were back.” He thought it would be a simple and trouble free resolution, however, the other immortal presence in the room now told him otherwise. “And I thought this guy here was going to drain you dry? What’d you expect me to do, let some stranger kill you before I even have a chance to see you?!”

A prominent eye roll swayed from your foresight, and you cast a look to the other guy, as though you were talking silently with the newcomer. “He’s not a stranger, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Eric Northman.” He extended his hand frankly to your previous partner, attempting to draw a hateful truce between them. But instead, Damon whence he took the offer, attempted to squeeze the bejesus out of ‘Eric’s’ hand, which only ended in the result of his own bones being crushed.

That much informed him that this Northman was older, and that information alone served as a factual repercussion of him in turn being more powerful. This vampire wasn’t one to mess with, but who knew what he would do, after all, he was Damon Salvatore.

“Damon Salvatore.” He begrudgingly spoke through his clenched teeth, taking his broken and healing back into the safety of his side. “So, the boyfriend. Y/n, I thought you were done with relationships, more specifically, with vampires.”

“You sound like Caroline, bitching about my relationship choices. And the only sense that she spoke to me was to get out of this town and-“

“Shag another one of me.” He quirked his brow, and Eric breathed heavily. One thing he had picked up on, was that he didn’t like the way that this vampire was speaking to you. He was making digs, and making contradictions to all of your past statements. “I believe you even said that I would be the last one, and that isn’t in the same context. You wanted to spend forever with me y/n, not someone like this.”

“Listen here.” Eric hissed, prowling half naked towards Damon, his fangs slipping out from beneath his top lip. “I can see what’s happening here, you want her back. But it appears that she has moved on, so that is something that you’re going to have to suck up.”

“Suck up.” Damon childishly snorted, finding the pun hilarious in his state of mixed delirium. He felt everything, a sense of urgency to win you back, and great pain that was sinking into his age old skeleton. “I feel, and it sucks. But it’s fine, completely fine.” He waved his hand off, staring past the slim brute and finding a painful solace in staring at you. “No, he’s allowed to suck your blood, and what, you suck his dick in return?”

A shove sent him flying into the furthest wall, Eric holding him against it. “She’s mine.” It was a common description of a companionship between human and vampire. He had thought Sookie and Bill’s bond had been a foolish one, however, he met you, and his whole perception changed.

There was something about the collaboration of weakness and strength that worked so perfectly together. It was a true love, in rare occurrences . But the sheriff could feel that the myth was blooming in his own consideration. And he would not allow a young (in comparison to him), selfish specimen of his kind, ruin his chance at keeping that peace.

“She’ll never let you turn her.” Damon gulped, trying to look over the giant’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of you, whom was avidly watching the scene. “If you want forever with her, it will only last a minute, and it’ll kill you when she goes, because if you really love her, then I know it would to me too. She deserves to see the world in all her short life, to be treated like a queen, because she is one.”

Damon gulped, feeling guilty, knowing that as much as he wanted to give you that all, he couldn’t. He would not leave Mystic Falls, and that was what had ended your run in the end. His first priority, as admirable as that was, was to always shadow Stefan, and look out for his little brother.

But that gave him no life, which was exactly what you wanted with him. It didn’t matter if you were to one day become pruned and shrunken, the moment that you lived in was all you wanted. There were memorable tears held in your eyes, but you refused to allow a single one slip.

“Y/n has already agreed that one day, she will go through the change, for me.” Biting your lip, you could only imagine the dispersed appearance that struck Damon’s face. He had wanted forever with you, and instead, you had given it to someone else.

Slinking out from the shirtless man’s grip, Damon cautiously pushed Eric’s hands off him, walking to the window, and casting you a cold look. “I hope you enjoy forever y/n.”

And with that, he was gone in the night, presumably fleeing to annoy Matt until he drank half the bar. And thus, he was the one this time that departed instead, abandoning you, and leaving you in Eric’s claim.

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multiplefandomfics · 4 years ago

Text

Kidnapped

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!reader

Warnings: Dubcon, smut, A/B/O dynamics, age gap, underage, forcefully induced heat, mind control, hypocrisy, breeding kink, knotting, trauma, hydra

Words: 3615

A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first attempt at ABO. I’ve read a lot of those so I hope I’ll get this right. So don’t be too hard on me. And now enjoy.

Omegas had become almost extinct. More and more kids were born who turned out betas and the rest were almost always alphas. So maybe it is easy to understand that when you turned out to be an omega at the age of 17 your value to your mother suddenly skyrocketed.

Your other siblings were all betas but you were suddenly special. The first heat your body put you through was a terrible strain on your body and took a lot of strength from you. A whole week was spent in delirium between fever and hallucinations. Your mother, a beta herself, had no idea how to help you and asked your family’s doctor for help.

He was very interested in you and your presentation and handed your mother a number to call.

A week later two very polite men who looked like they had fallen out of a 1940s crime movie, stood in front of your door.

“Mrs. Y/L/N? You have contacted us to take a look at your omega daughter?” the taller of the two asked.

“Yes. Please come in. We are in desperate need of advice. Her first heat was so terrible and I don’t know what to do if this gets even worse.” The men followed your mother to the livingroom and took the seats offered to them.

“Our facility is very well equipped and we are very skilled in dealing with young omegas. We would be able to monitor her closely and give her the right suppressants to quell her natural heats.” one of them explained.

“So you would take her with you?” your mother sounded sceptical. “Would we be able to see her? And when would she return home?” she asked.

The men shared a glance before continuing “She will be able to call once in a while and we will try our best to get her hormones in check and her home quickly.” the man ensured her.

Your mother hesitated and the men noticed so they changed their tactic.

“Mrs. Y/L/N. Your daughter is suffering badly and it will only get worse. We are the only ones who can actually help her. There aren’t a lot of experts in the field of A/B/O dynamics left. We definitely are your best shot. And if it helps to convince you, we can pay you handsomely for taking your daughter and giving her a shot at a normal life. How does 250.000$ sound?” your mother almost choked on her tea. “You want to pay me a quarter million dollars for her? You think I would sell my own daughter?” she was enraged, jumping up from her chair. “I want you to leave my house immediately.”

“Consider our offer for a moment please. We could help your daughter and learn from her case and you could finally sell off the mortgage to this house. We know that if you don’t take our money now you will have to move out soon. Do you want to move into a 3 room apartment with 4 children?” They knew a lot about your family which irritated your mother but she also quickly understood that they were right.

After your father had died in Afghanistan 3 years ago it had not been easy for your family.

As a single mom of 4 and just a part time job at a dentist's office she worried greatly how to make a future for them. The money from the strange men would take a lot of those worries away from her.

“Maybe you are right. She will come back to us quickly, right?” she asked to quell her guilty conscience.

“Of course, Mrs Y/L/N. She would be back in no time at all. We are very successful in what we do.” the men knew they had her in their grasp.

“Alright then. I will go upstairs and explain everything to her and then I think it is best when you take her immediately.” she got up and went upstairs.

A few moments later they heard yelling and then crying from upstairs. But suddenly it was quiet.

Another few minutes later you stumbled down the stairs, cowering behind your mother who held a duffel bag with some of your clothes and personal things.

“Hello Y/N. How are you feeling?” the taller man smiled at you.

“I’m okay, thank you. So I will go with you?” she asked back. “And you can help me with my biology?” You seemed very innocent to the men and they were sure that you had no idea what your intended purpose was in this world.

“Indeed we will make you more comfortable with your presentation. You will be able to return home quickly.” they ensured you too.

“Alright then.” you gave in. “Tell Joe, Lea and Maya that I love them and I will see them soon.” you instructed your mother and she nodded with tears in her eyes.

The men lead you to their car. The whole ride was silent. You looked out the window and saw landscapes passing by. The driver took so many turns that it didn’t take long for you to be completely confused and you had lost your orientation.

The journey seemed to take forever and at some point you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

You awoke disoriented and confused. You were laying on a bed in a sterile white room without a window but an adjoined bathroom. You sat up slowly to take in more of your surroundings. When you had decided to venture out further you noticed that the door was locked. You were trapped. Panic rose in your veins. What did that mean? Was this a kidnapping?

Just when you were about to have a mental breakdown the door was unlocked and a man you had never seen before stepped inside.

“Hello Miss Y/L/N. How are you feeling?” he asked you.

“Y/N is fine. I’m okay but why was the door locked?” you asked hesitantly.

“We didn’t mean to startle you. It was to your own protection. The compound we are currently in is comparable to a labyrinth. We just didn’t want you to get lost. Someone is going to come by later and give you a tour of the rooms you need to know. I am here to check out your vitals and ask you some questions. Is that alright with you?” He seemed nice enough.

“Ehm, yes it’s alright, I guess.” you sat back down on the bed while he took a seat on a chair.

“Very well, how long ago was your first heat?” Those kinds of questions seemed very personal but after all they wanted to help you.

“My first heat was about 2 weeks ago. It was awful. Hurt so much and lasted about 6 days.”

“Good, that is interesting information. Have you been intimate with a male before?”

You swallowed thickly “No never.”

“So no potential alpha around?”

“No.”

“Good, good. Is someone in your family an omega?”

“No, I am the only one as far as I know.”

“That is quite rare. Normally this is hereditary. I will take your pulse, blood pressure and temperature now.”

After the doctor had left someone came and took you to a room where you were served some dinner.

The night you spent tossing and turning. So many thoughts coursed through your head until you fell asleep of exhaustion.

You were rudely awoken by the cold neon lights being turned on. They ripped you out of a nice dream and you inwardly cursed them for it.

“Good morning Y/N. Did you sleep well?” the voice of a tall blonde female doctor- or agent, or whatever, you were still not sure where these people belonged to- reached your ears.

“Good morning. I had some trouble sleeping. I felt somehow on edge. Probably the new surroundings.” you shrugged.

“That is possible. I need you to get dressed. Breakfast is ready and then we will start with your training and testing of different medications.” she smiled and you did as she asked.

Breakfast consisted of fruit and porridge and then they took you into the opposite direction of your room.

You were led down multiple corridors until you reached a doctors room.

“Hello Y/N. Please remove your shirt and lay down.” The doctor said. She was the first person in this organization who smelled different than the others you had met. Everyone else had a neutral scent other than her and it wasn’t a perfume but you couldn’t place it and let it go for now.

“So you are an omega.That’s why they brought you to me. I presented as an omega too when I was 16 years old. My biology dictated my life for years and that’s why I am quite happy that we can make it easier for you before it gets too bad to handle.” that explained the different smell.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but you are not on suppressants right?” she shook her head no. “I thought you smelled different. So that’s one of my superpowers as an omega?” you joked.

“Indeed it is. Do you have any more questions?” she saw your hesitation. “Don’t be shy. You can ask me anything.”

“Ehm… well during my first heat… I felt really hot and I had those very explicit fever dreams and then my body produced this… fluid out of my… ehm… you know.” you pointed toward your groin.

“Yes, I know what you mean. When you are in heat your body longs for a mate. Preferably an alpha to satiate your natural urges. The slick that your body produces is only a natural lubricant to make it easier for the alpha to slide in without hurting you.” she explained.

“So my only purpose in this world is basically to mate and give a few children to some alpha?” you asked unbelievingly.

“Not necessarily. We could find the right meds and suppressants for you and you could live your life alone until you decided it was time for a family or not. Your choice.”

“I like the way that sounds. So when do we start?” you asked exited.

“We will start right now. I am going to administer your first shot of a medication which will make you feel better.”

She put on some latex gloves and prepared a syringe with a clear fluid.

“Alright, don’t move now please. I will give this right into your upper arm muscle.” said done. It stung a little but if that actually worked it was definitely worth it.

“All done. I will bring you back to your room now. These meds need some time to settle and you might feel a little uncomfortable later.”

When you had arrived at your room she sent you inside with the words -“Someone will have an eye on you the next few hours. I will see you soon.” and locked the door behind you again. For your own protection they had said…

Before you had time to think about all of this your head hit the pillow and you were fast asleep.

The next time you woke up you were in terrible pain. Your abdomen was cramping and your throat was bone dry. That could only mean one thing: the heat was back. But that should have been impossible. It wasn’t due for another 2-3 weeks. But here you were, sweating, hurting and in desperate need for something you weren’t ready for.

You didn’t even get the chance to get out of bed before the door flew open and two men grabbed you to pull you behind them. You were too weak to fight them when they pushed you into another cell which looked almost the same as yours. Only in that one someone was waiting for you.

The moment you were pushed into the room his eyes shot toward you, almost hidden under his shoulder long brown hair. His nostrils flared as he took in your potent scent.

“Omega.” he breathed and his pupils dilated.

He looked downright feral so you shrunk into the corner next to the closed and locked door. Though he really tried to hold himself together. You knew that he wanted to give into these primal urges the omega in you tried to push you to, too.

Suddenly he wiped the hair off of his face and you had a first clear glance at his handsome face. And to your amazement you recognized him from your class trip to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C. the year before.

His name was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and he had fought in the 107th infantry in WWII. He had also been Steve Rogers- or as most people know him, Captain America’s- best friend and later part of the Howling Commandos. The only thing that didn’t add up here was the fact that he was supposedly dead since 1943.

But you were so sure that the man standing before you was not a ghost as much as you were sure that he was not the same man who had gone to war in the 40’s.

“James?” you whispered. He cocked his head so he must have heard you but he didn’t know what to do with your question.

“You are James Barnes born on March 10th in 1917. You don’t remember?” you asked in a louder voice.

“No.” he tried to sound secure but you could hear his voice slightly wavering.

You wanted to help him so you took the risk and stepped closer. It might seem strange, standing in front of this intimidating hunk of a man, and feeling safe. The pain in your body had also almost disappeared.

“What do you remember?” you asked him. He seemed really nervous by now, always trying to scent you.

“Pain. Missions. Training.” was all he said and you felt really bad for him.

“I am sorry to hear that. Do you want me to tell you everything I can remember about you? Maybe you will gain back some memory. And maybe you can tell me who these people are and why they forced me into heat early.” in that moment another terrible cramp invaded your lower abdomen and your legs gave out. But before your body could hit the ground his arms caught you and he carried you to his bed.

“Mhh omega you smell delicious. Can barely hold back.” he mumbled into the crook of your neck and you felt it too. The tall alpha seemed to somehow soothe the ache inside you but it wasn’t enough.

In that moment you just let the omega in you take over. You started pulling frantically on his and your clothes until they were lying long forgotten on the floor of the dusty room.

“Need you ‘mega. You’re mine.” he growled at the sight of your boobs.

“Alpha please make it stop.” you whimpered and he growled louder at you calling him by his presentation.

You let your biology completely rule you and followed your instinct. Crawling onto your hands and knees pushing your face into the pillow and your ass in the air.

“Good omega. Presenting for your alpha.” his approval made you mewl.

He was quick to get behind you. In this state there was no foreplay needed.

His right hand grabbed your buttcheek. It was soft and warm. When the index finger of his left hand followed your spine from the neck down you shuddered at the cold metal.

“Tell me ‘mega, have you ever been with an alpha?” he asked while stroking a flesh finger through your glistening folds.

“No alpha. Haven’t been with anyone.” the realisation that you were a virgin let him hesitate for a second.

“Mhh I’m gonna make that virgin pussy feel so good. You want my cock ‘mega?”

“Yes, alpha please. Make the pain stop.” you begged him.

He took that invitation and slowly pushed the head of his massive length against your opening. “Relax ‘mega. I won’t hurt you.” his pressure got harder and then he slid in. The pain was intense for a moment until he slid in further. It felt like your channel was made for him.

“Fuck doll you’re tight. Squeezing me so good. Gonna breed you ‘mega. You want that? Me filling you with pups.” he groaned and your channel squeezed him tighter in confirmation.

In that heat of the moment none of you cared that this might be a bad idea.

He sped up his thrusts and your moans got even louder when he hit that magical spot inside you.

“Feels so good.” you mewled.

“Come ‘mega! Come for me!” he commanded and something that had waited for his okay snapped. Your pussy clamped around him and he pushed in that bit deeper. His knot popped and he filled you with his cum all the while pulling you up with his metal arm across your chest and biting into your neck hard enough to break the skin, laying claim to you.

When you both had come down from your highs he rolled you over to lay on your side. He was still locked snug inside you and that would probably stay like that for a while.

“You wanted me to tell you why they brought you here. The answer is for this exact cause. They want to keep me- or rather my alpha- in check. And they want to find out if the serum can be inherited.” he suddenly spoke up after a long pause.

“And do you want them to do that?” your question seemed to shock him a little.

“I didn’t expect that question. No one has ever asked me what I thought. And no! If we have pups I don’t want them to be treated the way I was. We would never know what happened to them.” he said sadly.

“Then let’s get out of here.” His knot had finally gotten down which gave you enough room to turn around.

“How? I may be able to vanish on my next mission but I won’t be able to take you with me.”

“Then play the part. They don’t know that you remember who you are. So when you get out of here the next time you get help and get me out later.”

“And who do you think would help me? A murderer.” he let his head hang low.

“Steve Rogers. He was found a few years ago and has most recently been working with a group of people who call themselves The Avengers. I know you have the possibilities to find Steve and get him onto your side to help. Until then you will have to pretend you are still the brainwashed assassin they created because if they notice you will be put on ice or erased again.”

“I gotta admit that does sound like a plan. I will try everything in my power to succeed. I promise that I will get you out of here. Unscathed. You are my omega now. That means something to me.” he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you- Bucky. Is it fine when I call you that while we are alone?” you asked him.

“Yes sure. I love when you say my name.” and then he gifted you with one of his rare smiles.

The next few days were spent almost the same way. Until your heat was down. They took him away from you and you didn’t see him for at least 6 weeks. Hard to keep track of time without daylight.

They had brought you back to your room and you didn’t see any of the old doctors you had seen before your forcefully induced heat. They probably thought you would attack them.

In week 7 they finally found out that their plan had worked. You were indeed pregnant. Oh, how you wanted to tell Bucky but everytime you asked for him they shut you down.

More weeks passed by. They didn’t tell you anything. Not even about the baby.

By esteemed week 22 you were able to feel the pup kicking in your tummy and you were talking to him or her. You missed Bucky more and more. Up to the point where you thought they had wiped him again and he had failed your mission.

One night you were awoken by chaos outside your door. Before you could get up the door bust in and in the frame stood Captain America himself. The relief you felt in that moment could hardly be measured.

“Captain Rogers. I’m so glad to see you.” you expressed your feelings.

“Good to meet you Y/N.” he smiled at you then spoke into the comms inside his ear “I’ve got her. Room 503. She’s fine.” then he came over and insisted on carrying you out of the building.

Somewhere on the way to the Quinjet you met Bucky again.

“Bucky! You`re alright! Oh, thank God. I missed you. And I’m pregnant. We did it.” you beamed at him.

“You’re alright too. I love you. Let's get you home.” he took you from Steve’s arms and carried you inside the jet.

A few months later you and Bucky moved into an apartment with your son and daughter.

#Marvel #ff #BuckyBarnes #JamesBarnes #Bucky #smut #Buckyxreader #WinterSoldier #a/b/o #au #steve rogers #hydra

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kopikokun · 4 years ago

Text

Snack Run with a Snack༄ j.jh

↳ On your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. You’re a little peeved, but at least Jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

pairing: idol!jaehyun x camera operator!reader (feat. johnny, jungwoo & doyoung)

genre: fluff, comedy, co-workers to lovers

warning(s): expletives

word count: 3526 words

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: crush (souly had) ✧ mango love (shawn wasabi, satica) ✧ make you feel pretty (lovelytheband)

Request 39: Jaehyun x Staff!Reader during movie night where she’s an extrovert and is close to all of the members.

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Your fortnightly movie nights are always something you anticipate eagerly, no matter how frequent or repetitive they may be. It’s always nice being able to take a breather from the grievous monotony of your daily schedule to just kick back and—essentially—do nothing. You know the rest of the members cherish these ephemeral moments too, because despite all odds, they’ll valiantly try to show up and join you, or at the very least make an appearance. Once, Ten had even barged in, still with his extensions intact.

To be fair, you’re not any better. When you heard that Jaehyun was participating the other day, you had dropped all other priorities just to come over. Safe to say, your roommate was not pleased seeing the state of the abandoned living room.

Your vision sweeps the perimeter of the room. Usually, it’s packed to full capacity, but there are only four others here besides you today.

“The glasses.” Doyoung purses his lips, planting his stare on a startled Jungwoo. “Where are the glasses? I thought I told you to get them?”

Jungwoo smacks a hand to his mouth, the sound of skin against skin so loud that you wince on his behalf. “It totally slipped my mind. Honest to God. I got sidetracked.” He clasps your—an innocent bystander’s—shoulder with such force that you physically jolt forward. Jungwoo flashes you his signature million dollar smile.“Hey, could you be a dear and help me out? I still haven’t decided what movie we should watch tonight.”

“Yeah, sure.” You grimace, already turning on your heel, mumbling, “You didn’t have to hit me.”

“Thanks!” he calls after you. “And sorry!”

His voice cuts through the hurried chattering between Jaehyun and Johnny which comes into earshot as you step into the kitchen. Their mouths move at the speed of bullet trains and Jaehyun’s hands flutter around his pensive face frantically. Maybe it’s the rose-tinted lenses, but the sight endears you. The slightest of chuckles escapes your lips at his delirium.

Their bodies seize, their zealous conversation slipping into a steady silence.

“What’s wrong?” you smirk. “Were you guys talking about me?”

“No,” Jaehyun snaps, so quickly that it almost prickles. “Why would we be talking about you?”

“Ouch,” you pout, masquerading the sting with a frivolous cadence . “How mean.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “What are you doing here? I thought you were, uh, clearing the table?” There’s a nervous edge to Jaehyun’s voice which insinuates that he knows something you don’t.

“I was, but then Jungwoo asked me to get the glasses in his stead since he’s too busy fussing over which movie we should watch.”

Johnny laughs. “I should go help him out then, or he’ll be stuck on the selection page for ages.” He pats Jaehyun’s back as he leaves. “Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

You toss an inquisitive glance at Jaehyun. He turns away, cheeks blooming with colour.

Admittedly, you’re more than intrigued by what Jaehyun had been so ardently conversing about. A small part of you whispers the possibility of it being you, and your heart soars. Now you’re the one getting sidetracked. Of course, you are. This is one of the rare moments you and Jaehyun have shared alone. Although you see him almost daily, there’s always someone closeby; a fellow staff or member of the group. And while you’d consider yourself someone who thrives in social situations, there’s nothing more you desire than a few seconds in solitude with the charming man.

You swing the plywood cupboard door open, extinguishing your idle delusions, the handle cool in your grasp. Three shelves greet your vision; each stuffed full with either miscellaneous tableware or seldom used kitchen utensils. You spot the mug you gave Mark for his birthday collecting dust in the corner and scoff bitterly. And he said it’s his ‘favourite mug’.

Your face screws in bewilderment. Usually, the glasses are graciously arranged on the bottom shelf; easily accessible for the people who are less gifted in the height department (namely you). Strangely, today they are at the very top, shoved deep inside, so far in that you’d think that it had been done with malicious intent. If they were in the middle, perhaps you could’ve reached them with a little extra effort, but given their current position, even on your tiptoes you wouldn’t even come close. The tips of your fingers barely graze the bottom portion of the glass. You huff.

“Do you need help?”

Your head swivels to see a clearly humoured Jaehyun, his eyebrow arched.

“Yeah, someone’s kept the glasses on the top shelf,” you grumble, tenaciously continuing to reach for them despite knowing that you and your height—or rather, lack of it—have been bested. “Must’ve been Johnny. The tall-ass.”

“You’re probably right. It wouldn’t be his first time either.” You groan in exertion. “Hold on, let me help.”

“Thanks, Jae—”

Your eyes widen and your stature stiffens. Just the smell of his aftershave is enough to knock you out.

Jaehyun’s chest presses against your back firmly. His hot breath tickles your neck; the fine hairs stand on end. His right arm, hugged in the most breathtaking way by a black sweatshirt, reaches forward while his left is planted on the counter in front of you, caging you in. You’ve done your fair share of ogling at Jaehyun’s more than ravishing physique before, but only from afar. At this proximity however, you can individually trace every vein on his forearm. They’re like roots branching across the ample muscle. God, you’re making it very apparent that you’re staring.

While probably not the most proficient, you don’t dispute this method of reaching for glasses. You’re sure Jaehyun knows there are better ways to do this too.

Stunned, you all but stare in what you can only describe as awe at Jaehyun’s side-profile. Sharp lines accentuated by peculiarly delicate features, you can’t help but imagine how it would feel like running your fingers over the curves of his cheekbones, the arch of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow.

Jaehyun’s gaze latches onto yours, his arm still hanging above your head. You swallow dryly before licking your lips. Jaehyun’s jaw clenches, the movement guiding his eyes to them. The counter is digging into your hip.

“I got the glasses,” he breathes, your vicinity means you can practically taste the mint on his tongue.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Neither of you move farther or closer to each other.

Jaehyun places the glasses beside you. “I should probably go set up the projector now.”

“Yeah, you should.” No, don’t.

He nods curtly, prods the inside his cheek with his tongue and shuffles out of the kitchen. You lean on the counter, recomposing yourself. Your heart pounds in your ribcage. Jaehyun’s lingering aftershave muddles any chance of a coherent thought.

What was that?

Sure, over the past week or two, you and Jaehyun have made your ever augmenting attraction to one another remarkably tangible, but neither of you had acted upon it. Until now.

Dazed, you almost forget to do what you had initially come in here for. You have to literally turn a 180 to retrieve the five glasses which sit innocuously on the countertop; they lay witness to your sins.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Did you do it?”

“Well, technically no, but—”

The four men are huddled together in the middle of the living room, each with equally suspicious expressions carved into their faces. Jaehyun’s back is turned to you as he’s hunched over, almost like he’s sharing some petty gossip.

You set the glasses down on the communal dining table, shift your weight on one leg and perch your hands on your hips like a disgruntled teacher waiting for her class to fall silent. Doyoung is first to sense your presence, nudging Johnny and jutting his chin towards you.

You can’t suppress the snort that courses through you when—simultaneously—all four of them disperse. It looks almost rehearsed.

“Why are you guys acting so weird today?”

Johnny sputters, Jungwoo chokes on presumably his own spit, Doyoung makes a sound which resembles more of a wheeze than a cough, and Jaehyun’s body goes completely rigid.

“We’re not acting weird,” scoffs Johnny.

You’re unconvinced. Just the way the whole room was immediately shrouded in a thick cloud of tension at your question was very telling.

“Yes, you ar—”

“Alright then,” Jaehyun clasps both of his hands together like a middle-aged man in the midst of a conference, “the movie! Jungwoo, what did you pick this week?”

Jungwoo hammers a fist to his heaving chest. “I picked Jojo Rabbit.”

“Oh, Minji noona watched it the other day. She told me it was so good she cried,” Johnny says. “And she rarely—if ever—cries over movies, or anything, really.”

“Why didn’t she and the others come over today? They’re always here for movie night.” By the others, you’re referring to the rest of the staff who are usually present. Being more or less the same age, the members naturally gravitated towards the rest of you; your closeness in years meant that you could easily relate to one another. You’d consider yourself a decently convivial person as well, which was probably another fundamental factor.

Once again, a restless fog congests the room. You seem to have struck another nerve.

Jungwoo tightens his grip on the remote. “They were… busy.”

His spontaneous lie is deplorable at best, but you let it slide.

You assume they think your conjectures have diffused because they seem to share a relieved glance; Jaehyun casts an appreciative smile to the bunch. He clears his throat. You don’t miss the mental exchange between him and Johnny, who grins wittingly.

“How about the snacks?”

All eyes are on you.

Your eyebrows cinch. “What?”

“The snacks,” Jungwoo reiterates. “You’re on snack duty.”

The way he says it makes it sound like you were aware of this. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, we told you in the groupchat,” Doyoung says. Jungwoo seems to be restraining a smile.

“No, you in fact, did not.” Scorned by this blatant accusation, you begin fishing your phone from your front pocket to show the others that none of you had come to that agreement.

Jaehyun’s hand coils around your wrist, halting your movements. “I’ll come.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ll come along with you to get the snacks,” his grip loosens, “if you want me to.”

“Oh.” Your arm falls limp to your side. You study Jaehyun’s earnest gaze. “Sure.”

It’s painfully palpable that the rest of the group were expecting this; their lips curling with a smirk of gaiety.

“Great, I’ll go grab some cash.”

You really should have thought twice about letting Jaehyun tag along.

“You should’ve stayed at home.”

“I wanted to come.”

You’re reasonably terrified, both for you and Jaehyun’s sake. Getting recognised out in public is an all too plausible scenario, and you really do not have the resolve or strength to fend off a horde of fans right now.

“Relax, it’s like 11pm. Nobody’s going to be just walking out here. At least, not anybody sober.”

While he makes a valid point, you’re still skittish. “Alright, but keep your head down.”

“How will I see where I’m going?”

Collecting your wits, you reach for his hand to tug him forward. “I’ll lead the way.”

Though Jaehyun is more than capable of staying grounded in his spot, you drag him along with relative ease, like a lifeless rag doll.

“I… was just kidding.”

Not looking back, you say, “Does that mean you want me to let go of your hand?”

Brazenly, Jaehyun intertwines his fingers with yours, strengthening his palm’s embrace. A jolt of exaltation zips up your spine.

“No, don’t.”

The remainder of the brisk walk to the convenience store is spent in exhilarating quietude, one that conveys a hundred messages. Not once does Jaehyun’s hold of your hand weaken.

The intimacy of the store welcomes you wholeheartedly. From its single constantly flickering bulb, that one cooler door with the rickety handle, and to the out-of-order slushie machine, you could peruse this store with your eyes closed. Being NCT’s camera operator first and designated snack buyer second, you’ve been in here more times than anyone should ever have to be in a lifetime.

It’s not the most popular store on the block. Their selection is limited, their interior outdated, but in your humble opinion, they are leagues ahead of any other store out there. Plus, it’s usually vacant, meaning minor risk of being spotted. Other than you, Jaehyun and the single weary employee, there’s only one other person in here, a tattered hood draped over their head. While they’re sketchy in a certain sense, you’re confident that they don’t pose a threat to you or Jaehyun’s safety.

“I’ll go get the crisps and you get the chocolates,” you declare, standing on your tiptoes.

“Chocolates? We’re getting chocolates? We already have some in the fridge.”

“Okay, then I’m getting chocolates.”

Another reason you love this place to bits is because of its prices. Everything is outrageously cheap. The first time you had visited, wet behind the ears, soul bursting with vigour yet pockets embarrassingly empty, you almost cried. You had one of the best dinners of your early adult life in this very store. Sure, it was just a truckload of processed, packaged food, but here’s the thing: it was a truckload. And when you’re as financially stable as a thumbtack balancing on the tip of its point, a truckload of food is a blessing bestowed by the Gods.

So, safe to say, you and Jaehyun definitely got your money’s worth.

In fact, in the time the two of you expended scouring the aisles for tid-bits, a forlorn cloud had consumed the sky. It had started raining. Lightly at first, but the drizzle had swiftly transitioned into a furious storm.

Thunder claps in the distance, the sound so tumultuous it shakes the tiles of the store floor, the vibrations so intense they reach the tip of your head.

“Do you have enough money for an umbrella?” you ask.

“Even with an umbrella, I think it’d be too dangerous for us to go out there,” Jaehyun says, and as if to illustrate his point, another bolt of lightning strikes the Earth. The convenience store trembles. “And no, I don’t have enough money for an umbrella.” From the tone of Jaehyun’s voice, his delight is hidden by the pretense that he too is upset by this development.

“Then I guess we’ll have to call one of the guys to pick us up.”

Jaehyun’s expression immediately turns sour. “I mean, yeah… I guess we could.”

Under normal circumstances, you would have been pouncing at the opportunity to spend some quality one-on-one time with Jaehyun, alas, three other undoubtedly starving men are waiting for your return.

A long, dull white counter, meant for customers to sit and eat at faces the heavy gloom outside. Droplets of rain cling to the glass like fluorescent crystals embedded to cave caverns, before slipping down in a wavering trickle, racing each other to the bottom. You take a seat on one of the plastic stools and Jaehyun takes the one beside you, dropping the bag of snacks to the floor.

“Hello?” Johnny’s sonorous voice greets through your speakers.

Jaehyun stares at you, anguished. To his right, the hooded stranger from earlier slips into the third stool, leaning forward and shelving their chin on a palm. They stare outside the window.

“Hey, Johnny. We got the snacks, but Jaehyun and I have a separate problem.”

“I know. It’s pouring.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Jaehyun looks like he’s about to crumble into a heap of anxiety. “Can you pick us up? We don’t have enough cash to hail a taxi.”

There’s a commotion on the other side of the line; hushed discussion and rustling of fabric. You can’t pick up a lot, only the words, “Yeah.” and “So, that’s what we’ll say?”

“Sorry,” Johnny finally says, after much delay. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

Beside you, Jaehyun visibly perks.

“Car’s being repaired,” he replies languidly. “Mark popped a tyre while learning to drive the other day.”

You groan. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious.”

“God, the car just had to be out today of all days.”

“Sorry, it can’t be helped,” Johnny sighs, a twinge of mischief to his voice. “The matter’s out of my hands.”

“It’s fine. We’ll just… wait it out or something.”

“We’ll try and see if any of the others can swing by and pick you guys up, so just stay put for now.”

“Alright thanks, Johnny. Sorry about tonight.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he says. “Have fun with Jae.”

The call ends with a click before you can probe Johnny further.

“No go?” Jaehyun chirps.

You shake your head. “No, though you don’t seem bummed out about it.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “It’s not often I can spend some time alone with you anyway. In a way, I’m glad.” You bite the flesh of your cheek, face turning hot. Jaehyun turns in his seat, reaching down for the plastic bag. “And, we have snacks to—”

His eyebrows furrow.

“Jae?” His adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “The snacks?”

“They’re… gone.”

“What?”

“I put them right here beside me, but they’re gone! I swear I—”

The bell above the door chimes as the mysterious figure—the one who had been sat beside Jaehyun mere seconds ago—dashes out, with, lo and behold, a very familiar plastic bag dangling in their grasp.

You point a finger towards them. “They stole our snacks!”

Jaehyun’s head whips around to gawk at the culprit who has already made their way out of the store, head-first into Mother Nature’s wrath. He leaps out of his seat, hell-bent on chasing the person down, practically foaming at the mouth. “Motherfucker—”

This time, you’re the one who grips his wrist. “Jaehyun, wait. It’s not worth it.”

“They just stole all of our snacks! Am I supposed to just watch them get away with them?” he seethes. If not for his genuinely fuming expression, you would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“They already had a head-start, Jae. I doubt you’ll be able to chase them down. And what if someone sees you? How are we supposed to explain why Jung Jaehyun of NCT was sprinting in the rain after a stranger with a bag of snacks?”

His shoulders sag. “But… our snacks… and your chocolate! What about your chocolate?”

“It’s fine. I didn’t even get the version I liked. They were all out of the original ones.”

Jaehyun slumps back into his seat, defeated. “Should we call the police?”

You snicker. “And tell them our snacks got stolen? They’d laugh in our faces.”

“I hate that you’re right. I wish they’d treat snack theft with the same severity of other crimes,” he jests, despite still being obviously disheartened. “Hope whoever that was gets struck by lightning and fucking sizzles out there.” He cards a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Jae. I mean, who the hell steals snacks anyway?”

“No, not that. Well, I am sorry about that but what I meant was... I screwed this up.”

“Screwed what up?”

“You know how everyone was acting really strangely today?”

“You guys weren’t being very secretive about it.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, well, it was because they were helping me get us alone.”

Jaehyun’s confession is like the final piece of a puzzle; the final thread to connect all the dots together. “So that explains why everyone collectively decided to not show up today, and why the glasses were on the top shelf, and why you guys said I was on snack duty when I clearly wasn’t! And I bet the car isn’t even busted too!”

He nods, a wry smile etched onto his lips. “The glasses weren’t actually a part of the plan, but in the end, they were in my favour, so I’m not pissed about it.” You flush as the memory floods you. “They did all of that, and yet I still blew it.”

“Who said you blew it?” you say. Jaehyun lifts his head to look at you. “We’re alone right now, aren’t we?”

He swipes his tongue over his teeth. “Well, yeah, I suppose we are.”

“So, just tell me you like me already.”

Jaehyun jerks back in his seat. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” you grin, “because, I like you too.”

His face breaks out into the widest smile possible; one that stretches his lips so much that it must ache. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” you giggle. “Even though you got our snacks stolen.”

By the time you two make it back to the dorm, clothes dripping rainwater onto the carpet, lips swollen from stolen kisses, and smiles teeming with euphoria, the rest of the street is already dark. Johnny, Jungwoo and Doyoung greet you with knowing smiles and playful comments.

“Look, I’m super happy for you guys and stuff but,” Jungwoo gestures to your empty hands, “where the hell are the snacks?”

216 notes · View notes

zet-sway · 3 years ago

Text

Spiritual Shrios Summer - EMBRACE

This is a prompt fill for @rosenkow’s Spiritual Shrios Summer!

PROMPT WORD: EMBRACE - | - WORDS: ~6100

Rated: “E” for “Awkward but Spicy” [NSFT] AO3 Link: "Too Much and Not Enough” Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: Maybe it's the traces of venom in her system or maybe it's just him, but this man beneath her - this assassin, feared and infamous for the lives he's taken - swells her heart with trust. It's a new and curious thing, so different from the trust shared between brothers in arms. It's simple intimacy, and maybe… just maybe… something more.

A/N: This fic is a god damn hot mess, and yet I have literally *never* revised anything so heavily in my entire life. Was supposed to be part of a slow burn but I'm impatient. I literally can't tell if this fic is worth reading. You decide lol

Thank you @quietonewisp for your feedback on my first draft! It's unbelievable to be in the same fandom with such talented writers after all these years. Thank you also to everyone who shared encouraging words while I was pulling my hair out over this fic :) this is my first attempt at writing Shepard as a thought out character of my own creation. As a result it's pretty awkward.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I don't know how you do this," Shepard grunts through clenched teeth.

Every third day is yoga. And today, she thought it would be a good idea to try a headstand.

Thane guides her feet into the air, resting her knees against her elbows. Her hands are planted on either side of her head, elbows bent at a right angle to form three points of support against the floor. Truthfully, he hadn't thought she would struggle so much with this pose, given her strength.

"Push with your hands. Distribute your weight."

Slowly, he releases her calves and repositions himself behind her as she pulls in a sharp inhale, holding her balance.

"You better not be staring at my ass, Krios."

He raises a brow ridge. It's hard not to stare at her ass, thrust in the air as it is.

"You forget that I have perfect recall," he says dismissively. "I can reflect on the image of your backside at any moment of my choosing."

"So you admit you've been looking?"

"Shepard," he admonishes, "Just because I've seen your ass does not mean I consciously seek to see it." It's a stone cold lie, but an easy one to sell, especially when she makes a point of training her glutes every day during their morning PT.

Slowly, she lifts her knees into the air, shaking with the effort to retain her balance. "I bet you're an ass man," she grits out, one leg finally pointed straight into the air.

Thane sets his hands on her calves to steady her as she wills through the pose.

"I'm unfamiliar with the term."

She huffs, swallowing down a breath before speaking. "A man who prefers ass over breasts."

Only humans would have a word for something like this, he thinks. "As you know, women of my species do not have breasts."

"Yup," she hisses, slowly and carefully straightening her other leg. "That's why you've gotta be-" another shaky breath, "-an ass man."

Well… she's not wrong.

In truth, he finds breasts no more desirable than any other mundane part of the human body. The appeal, he suspects, comes from actually touching them - something he hadn't considered at all until she'd launched herself at him in the airlock weeks ago. He's replayed the experience in his mind hundreds of times by now. The insistent press of her mouth on his, her smooth human hands clutching at his shoulders... and the soft crush of her body against him. He hadn't pulled away, but he hadn't kissed her back either. Right now, he wishes he had.

There's a curious connecting thread between his return to the Normandy and her sudden urgency to speak to him - frequently. Even more curious - neither one of them has broached the subject of her impulsive kiss before his procedure.

With a relieved sigh, Shepard finally manages to straighten both legs and complete the pose. Toes pointed toward the ceiling of the shuttle bay, she trembles. It's all he can do to not close his hands around her thighs to feel every rippling muscle under her skin.

"Excellent work," he says, voice perhaps lower than he intended.

"My head hurts."

Thane shakes his head. "You're not distributing your weight through your hands. Push down, and lower your knees slowly."

She makes a strained sound, tenses her legs, and the motion is just enough to pitch her center of gravity backwards.

He catches her, but not before the rounded curve of her ass is pressed with distracting persistence against his hips. If he could have blushed, he very well might have. Looking remarkably contorted beneath her splayed hands, she grins at him.

"How's your perfect recall going to handle this one?"

He should say something, but he doesn't. With steady arms, he lowers her to the mat and she flops against it, sighing heavily. There's a familiar quiet about her, something he's come to recognize as the silence before a storm.

"...can we talk about this?"

His deflection comes instinctively. "Your mastery of the headstand will take some practice, but-"

"No," she says firmly. "This." She waves a hand between both of them. "I kissed you goodbye and we're both acting like it never happened. It was inappropriate of me. Did I upset you?"

This time he needs a minute to think.

"Shepard, I… no, you did not upset me."

"But...?" She sits up, knees drawn in a loose spread against her chest, arms looped around them. The same focus he'd seen in her face on Tuchanka is there now. But this time her expression is uncharacteristically open, visibly hanging on his next words.

She's not even trying to hide that she wants him.

So why does he resist?

Ten years ago he swore he would never love another, and he meant it. The compulsion to remain ascetic is by now second nature in him. But although the years have not dulled the memory of his beloved Irikah, they have brought a new perspective: the fires of one love are not dulled simply because the fires of another are kindled.

"I've recalled that moment more times than I can count," he says, finally.

"So... does that mean you liked it?"

"I enjoyed your kiss enough to admit that should the opportunity arise... I may not let go."

She leans closer, fingers lacing together with visible anticipation. "And what if I didn't want you to let go?"

The look in her upturned face is what does him in. In a rare display of impulse, he drops to the mat and kisses her. And this time he intends to savor it.

Somehow, the same humility that drove him to his knees before Irikah now folds him again as he gazes into the unknown with Shepard. A purpose, a reason to fight. And now perhaps... a reason to love. He's not sure if he would call it love just yet, but kissing her awakens his body like hot tea on a bitter cold morning. She draws him between her knees, lips parting eagerly beneath his seeking tongue. She tastes like coffee with an undertone of alien unfamiliarity, and his pulse quickens. He's already eager for more.

Shepard mumbles something against his mouth and he pulls away.

"You taste tingly. That's normal right?"

He smiles gently back at her. "Normal for humans, as I understand."

They lean together for another kiss before she releases him. "We still haven't done cardio."

He slips his arms around her waist and tugs her tighter against him, using his strength to pull her up with him as he stands.

"A quick jog around the hold, then?"

"...or," she says coyly, all suggestive eyes with a cautious smirk blooming across her face. "A quick jog upstairs?"

He shouldn't. At least - old habits tell him he shouldn't. But his heart says it doesn't much matter.

"Promise me one thing," he says with caution, taking her hands in his. This is not how he’d imagined his morning. After all the time they’ve spent seeking each other’s company, he hadn’t dared to think...

Shepard tips her head, listening, fingertips idly exploring the subtle texture of his scales. His throat feels dry and the words are stampeding through his mind so fast he can barely catch them.

"Embrace her memory as I have. Smile upon her with favor." The memories mingle together, threatening to overwhelm him. Shepard has already given him so much, and he still asks more of her.

"Your wife?" She leans into his neck, kissing his shoulder softly.

"Yes." He squeezes his eyes shut. His breath threatens to choke him. "I cannot and will not stop loving her. She is with me always."

Shepard smiles at him, as though he's asked the easiest thing in the world. Her next words are an intimate whisper against his lips.

"What kind of Commander would I be if I told you to stop loving your wife?"

Her breath fills his chest with warmth and wanting. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her glistening lips as though they were crafted specifically for him. They inhale each other, her tongue sliding against his as he breathes in her kiss. The word murmurs through his mouth and mind as a soft wind sighing through trees and grasses. "Siha."

This could be his second chance. An opportunity to fight side by side with a warrior angel, as he should have done years ago. Irikah was not a trained soldier, but she damn well could have been. She would have given everything to defend the innocent, and by all accounts, she had. Their son, alive because of her and her alone. He can taste her in the kiss, a familiar and soothing encouragement that makes his heart soar. Perhaps if he survives the mission, he will have learned something of her bravery.

There's a gentle tug on his shirt. Shepard leads him toward the elevator.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When they stumble into her cabin, her eyes are already bleary with his venom. Thane presses her into the bed, one hand cradling her neck while the other winds into her hair. His lips are slow but strong, kissing her like he knows nothing else. She's never felt so wanted before.

"How far do you want to take this?" she gasps when he trails her mouth down her jaw.

"This was your idea," his mouth is scorching on the column of her neck. She leans back to give him better access. "How far do you want to take this?"

Her insides are on fire at the feel of his mouth alone, and logic says she's crazy to jump into bed with another fucking species so suddenly. But she doesn't care - she's spent enough sleepless nights imagining this very moment. She wants his hands on her bare skin, she wants the forbidden unknowns of his alien body. With every fiber of her being, she wants. But it's easier to think about it than to say it.

"More," she says finally - breathlessly. Words are fleeting. Her hands fist the edges of his shirt and he obliges, pulling away so she can lift it off before she begins pulling off her own.

And then he surprises her by playfully rolling her on to her belly, kissing the back of her neck, her spine, palms trailing an electric line down her sides.

"I confess," he murmurs between kisses, "You were right to accuse me of being, as you say, an 'ass man.'" She moans as those strong hands settle on her backside, fingers kneading her flesh with delicious strength. Good god.

Words are difficult, but she manages. "Don't get any ideas, I'm not letting you fuck my ass."

"It wasn't my intention. Is that something humans do?"

Shepard snorts. "Don't act like you didn't know that."

He laughs like she's never heard before, a rich and jubilant peal in that dark voice she's come to savor. She can nearly feel the soft vibrations of that laugh through his hands as he presses his fingertips between her legs. “I’d rather know where you burn hottest,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he strokes her just hard enough to make his intentions understood.

"Oh fuck yes."

His palms return to her backside, sliding up to hook his fingers into her waistband. "May I?"

She nods furiously, her own hands closing over his to push her clothes off.

When she's firmly on her back again he drags down the zipper on the front of her bra. It's flung on the floor with the rest of her things and then she's bare before him, biting her lip under the heat of his hungry gaze. She wonders if he can see her body vibrating in anticipation.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, settling his knees between her thighs. He crawls up to kiss her. "For weeks, I've thought about touching you."

She hums as he strokes the rounded edges of her breasts.

"Your body is so wonderfully soft, will you tell me if there's something you don't like?"

"Yeah," is all she can manage before his mouth returns to her neck, his hands wandering like a dying man searching for water. She's certain to have hickeys by the time they're done.

Curious, she brings a hand up to stroke the delicate flesh of his throat. His answering groan confirms her suspicions, and suddenly his questing hands are not so chaste, closing with suffocating warmth around her breasts.

Shepard bites her lip. "Please don't tell me you think breasts are gross."

He shakes his head. "I'll admit I find it strange that human breasts are erogenous, given their purpose. But they aren’t ‘gross,’ as you say. Just... new." She pushes her chest into his palms and that gets a rise out of him - a lovely trembling purr in his throat. "And so soft, Siha."

"Feels good," she murmurs. With parted lips, she breathes her pleasure as he kneads her breasts in slow, sensuous circles, dipping his head to kiss along her sternum and at the tender underside of her flesh.

"I think I might like them,” he says, lips twinged upwards.

Her need flares with that simple statement and she pulls in a breath, straining against him.

"I hadn't imagined how... tempting they could be. Soft curves... ripe like fruit at peak season." A strained moan falls from her mouth when he punctuates his statement with a more appreciative squeeze and draws a thumb over one sensitive peak, his mouth close enough to make her whimper in frustration.

“You’re teasing me.”

"I’m exploring you, Siha. There’s so much to learn." He circles his fingertips around her nipples and they tighten in response. The visual alone has her reeling, electric sparks of need slipping down her spine and straight into her core. "Your body shows me what it wants," he murmurs. "My mouth begs to taste you."

He flicks his tongue out, sampling her in light, infuriating strokes, teasing until she's keening beneath his hands, eyes shut tight and panting over clenched teeth. It's hard to think about anything at all except his hands and lips and that rumbling voice shimmering across her sensitized skin.

She strangles out a moan when his lips close around her nipple and he hollows his cheeks, drawing it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. Her arms clamp reflexively around his neck in an unspoken order to keep still.

"Do that again," she gasps.

He complies without question, textured fingers on one breast and wet tongue on the other, toying with her. Her back arches, hands holding herself like an offering to his mouth, every touch like a phantom crack of lust between her legs. There's a low rumble in his throat, he's practically purring into her skin and she can feel it, thighs clenching together in desperation.

She whines when he finally pulls away.

"I'll be back for those," he promises. "I hadn't expected such enthusiasm."

Fingertips brush her inner thigh and she leans into the touch, wanting more - for fuck's sakes - more - gasping out a shuddering breath she didn't even know she was holding when he flattens his fused fingers into her seam. Face buried in her neck doing god knows what with his lips and tongue, he's exploring her by touch alone. Each press of his hand is excruciatingly gentle, pushing slowly into her slick channel, gliding upwards to her clit. She's so sensitive that she flinches when he brushes over it, clutching at his shoulders.

"Too much?" He asks.

She hadn't even realized her eyes were closed. Her throat is dry, but she rasps, "Not enough."

His full lips curve into a smile before he strokes her again and this time she moans, pushing back on his hand as much as she can manage. Her mind is chanting "please, please," but she won't beg. Not yet, at least.

His voice rouses her from her desperate thoughts.

”Your species makes great effort to avoid using definitive terms for this part of your body."

"Do we?” She asks, willing her thoughts to clear enough for her to speak. “I mean, there's pussy, snatch... cunt, if you're feeling profane."

His voice drops a register lower, and he leans close enough for her to feel his hot breath when he speaks. "Shepard, I believe the technical term is vulva."

She groans. Loudly. "Fuck off."

He huffs out a stiff laugh. "Perhaps you'd prefer something new. Ara'te. Chalice of Arashu."

She tries - and fails - to hide her impatience. "Really?"

"Do you find it repulsive?"

"No, I just... mixing religion and sex is kind of..." She fumbles with her answer, not wanting to offend, but the words are gone from her when he leans in and draws the flat of his tongue in a wide sweep between her legs. "-Jesus, Thane."

His voice is thick with amusement. "How interesting that you invoke the name of a god you don't believe in, if I touch you just so."

Shepard's mouth snaps shut and she looks pointedly away from him with a huff.

"But I digress," he says, fingers rippling along her seam. Scaled hands smooth over her slickness, spreading her with gentle consideration. His mouth is dangerously close, gaze fixed on her with eyes like gleaming onyx. Something in the way his voice drops sets her heart racing.

“You feel like the softest silk,” he whispers, each word rolling off his tongue in a veil of hot breath that cools over the heat of her wet center. Her eyes flutter closed as he presses his exploration, teasing her entrance with his joined fingers.

"Your body is a wellspring," he murmurs, slowly penetrating her with his hand. "Drenched with arousal… begging me into your depths."

She gasps when he takes the opportunity to flick at her with his tongue. Hips grind against his hand, desperately seeking more.

"What the fuck," she moans. "Don't stop."

He withdraws only to enter her again, this time sheathing an extra finger in her heat. Those fingers crook inside her and she damn near twitches off the bed, drawing a sound from him somewhere between amusement and arousal.

"So sensitive, Siha."

It feels like she's melting under the intensity of his touch, a thumb moving in teasing circles around her clit. She hisses, thighs clenching.

"Holy shit just touch me."

"Like this?" he asks in a tone that's infuriatingly playful, barely skimming his tongue across her clit.

"God damn it, Thane, you know what I want-"

He interrupts her, his voice suddenly more serious.

"Show me."

There's silence, and then Shepard blinks at him. "What?"

"Show me how you like to be touched."

"You want to watch me?" her mouth goes dry and her answering tone is more accusatory than she intends. "Because you're a freak, or because you don't know how to touch a woman?"

"Yes." He says simply, dodging both of her questions with irritating smugness.

Her knees twitch inward, uncertain, and with a deep inhale, he withdraws.

"Siha," he murmurs apologetically, taking her hand. "You've left all your confidence on the battlefield.”

The words slip straight through the cracks in her armor. It's painful, but he's right. Cerberus didn't bring her back because they wanted her, they brought back Commander Shepard. The woman she used to be is an afterthought. There's only the mission. The Hero of the Citadel. The Commander.

But here they are, Thane's enormous black eyes boring holes into her defenses in a silent plea for… something. His hand finds hers and their fingers intertwine, resting together on her hip. His expression is more unguarded than she's ever seen, eyes asking a silent question: Do you trust me? Do you want me?

"All my victories have been on the battlefield," she says, looking away.

His thumb soothes back and forth over her hand.

"Intimacy is not a war. What do you hope to triumph over?"

Still unwilling to meet his eyes, her face twists with discomfort.

"I haven't had a lot of partners. I'm laying here naked and you're playing games. I can't tell if you're just teasing or looking for an excuse to drive me off."

His expression softens. "Our differences are not merely physical, then."

She isn’t certain what he means, but Thane shifts to lay next to her, kissing her temple. His fingers tighten around hers in a gentle grip that doesn't let up, finally summoning her eyes back to his.

"On my heart, Siha, there is no place I would rather be than right here with you." There's a genuine apology in his tone, prying her heart open one painstaking centimeter at a time. "Do you want this?"

Her voice is small, but she doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Show me what you like," Thane's lips brush against her ear. "Remember that I won't forget." The way his voice rumbles makes her shiver.

He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm before setting it atop her thigh. It’s a relaxing gesture, indirect enough that he's not backing down while also letting her choose the next move. His lips are unhurried, traveling up her neck, against her ear, along her hairline.

Years of lackluster partners have tempered her expectations - she’s never shared herself with anyone as intense as Thane; and although she'd never admit it, his sexual confidence is damn near intimidating. But his hot breath against her ear and his endless, patient kisses are an irresistible pull of wanting.

This man is far from bored, she realizes. He's only awaiting her permission to give her something she's never experienced.

Her chest rises and falls in deep, shaky breaths. "No games," she whispers.

"No games," he agrees.

Biting her lip, she guides his hand back to the apex of her thighs. He offers no resistance, humming his approval when she slicks his fingertips through her heat and sets them carefully against her clit.

They move together then, her hand on his, teasing herself while he kisses her neck and shoulder, slowly making his way across her chest. How long has it been since she found release beneath the hands of another? The quiet intimacy of their joined hands, the subtle texture of his scales leaves her breathless, delirious with pleasure, his fingertips sliding effortlessly against her slick center. His mouth wanders over her skin, her breasts, every touch so electric she’s almost not ready for how fast her release sneaks up on her.

"I'm close," she whimpers with eyes squeezed shut, "Oh fuck, Thane, I'm so close."

"Yes, Siha,” he whispers. “Come for me."

She breaks. Every cell in her body clenches in a singularity of pressure before she's launched out in a million pieces, shimmering in the dim light. For once, it doesn't feel cold in her cabin. Waves of heat ripple under her skin, pulsing with every second she spends teasing the tail end of her climax.

She doesn't realize she has a death grip on his hand until she's gone completely still. If it hurts him, he says nothing, only wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her close. When she looks back at him, he's watching her with a knowing, lustful smile. She reaches for him, stroking his delicate neck and earning an appreciative hum that makes her heart beat just a little faster.

"Not that I didn't like you before, but..." she brushes her fingertips along his jaw, tilting his head toward her, "God damn."

Maybe human biology actually is as interesting as he proclaims, if one good orgasm can flood her with this much oxytocin. Like crossing a proverbial threshold, she feels her confidence returning, if only just to tell him we are definitely doing this again. As soon as possible.

"The privilege is mine." His voice is flecked with desire, words she believes so wholeheartedly she can almost see them in the air.

"How are you still wearing pants?"

He growls approvingly as she climbs over him and her fingertips slip beneath his waistband.

"Let's see what I'm about to get myself into," she says with a sly upturn of her lips.

"Or, if you wish - what you're about to get into yourself, " he retorts with no small amount of innuendo.

Immediately she wishes they'd done this sooner. He's... gorgeous. It isn't so much that she thought he wouldn't be, but his anatomy is every bit as colorful as the rest of him and that is a surprise. His length blooms from its internal sheath, a strong and gently ridged gradient of red and purple, nearly glowing in contrast against his green scales.

"Nice," she breathes, reaching for him. "Sorry if I don't have any pretty words to explain how much I want to put this beautiful thing in my mouth." Then she has a thought. "Do you have any fancy words for 'dick?'"

He puffs out an amused laugh and cracks a smile. "I seem to recall you saying something about religion and sex..."

"Humor me," she says, leaning in close enough to make his breath catch from the proximity of her mouth alone.

"Amo'ti," he says. "In your language-"

"Spear of Amonkira?"

He raises a brow ridge at her. "I'm impressed."

She gives his length an appreciative squeeze, testing the give of his ridges, humming at the surprising velvet texture of his skin.

"Maybe," she says slowly, matching the intensity of his gaze, "You can tell me how impressed you are after this." And without any further pretense, she engulfs him with her mouth.

In an instant, his head tips back, and she feels a familiar confidence returning. Men, she thinks, are hopelessly predictable in their pursuit of a hot mouth to fuck. And exactly as expected, Thane's hips are rolling gently forward. She slips her tongue around his length, watching the dancing iridescent scales along the shifting planes of his thighs and stomach.

In the back of her mind, she wonders if drell even do this as much as humans do. But it doesn't seem to matter when he sets his jaw in rapt concentration, visibly struggling to keep his eyes open and fixed on her. She doubles down, flattening her tongue against the underside of his shaft and hollowing her cheeks on the upstroke. His hands thread into her hair, sweeping it from where it falls in front of her eyes and gathering it around his fingers.

Tempted to tease him, she pulls back until the very tip of his length rests against her lips and sweeps her tongue across the head with a seductive smile. Their eyes lock and the sound he makes causes her core to fucking throb with wanting. One hand working him with each teasing swipe of her tongue, she slips lower, plants her lips on the base of his shaft to kiss him with an open mouth. He's shaking now, he's got to be close-

With a strangled gasp, his hips twitch away from her and she stills herself.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," is his breathless response. "Quite the opposite. Come here."

She climbs astride him, pressing the length of their bodies together as his arms enfold her. "That good?"

"Join with me, Siha," he murmurs, his voice low and laced with need. "Find your release in mine."

An unexpected chill slips through her, tingling every nerve with an onset of understanding. She can hear it in the undertones of his voice: I want you. This was never a game. We will be whole, together.

He rocks against her just enough to grab her attention. The brush of his length between her legs is electrifying - his eyes searching, his body asking.

"I'm… uh…" Shepard bites her lip, processing the words slowly. "I haven't been with anyone since I... came back."

His fingers intertwine with hers for the umpteenth time that morning. It's a gesture she's rapidly coming to adore for all its patience and admiration. He kisses the back of her hand, voice low and steady. "You're in control, Commander."

There's something in his well-placed acknowledgement of her authority that placates her. Maybe it's the traces of venom in her system or maybe it's just him, but this man beneath her - this assassin, feared and infamous for the lives he's taken - swells her heart with trust. It's a new and curious thing, so different from the trust shared between brothers in arms. It's simple intimacy, and maybe… just maybe… something more.

Eyes never leaving his, she steadies herself and sinks down on him.

They join together with delicious slowness, his hips willfully unmoving beneath her as she takes him in. The pressure is exquisite, edging somewhere between too much and not enough, each ridge of his florid length finding its place within the scorching depths of her body. She's nearly sweating as their hips go flush, eyes tipping closed with the sweet pulse of their joining.

One painstaking second at a time, she adjusts. It doesn't hurt, but she's afraid it damn well might if she starts riding him like her lust-fueled mind is screaming to. She stifles her own desire, wills her body for control as she twists and flexes herself to banish the lingering anxiety about her reconstruction. It might even be embarrassing - wriggling against him like a damn virgin - but there's no judgement in his eyes. If anything, he's holding back his own pleasure, unmoving while he waits for her. Hands braced against his shoulders, she pushes up, finally bottoming out with a low, wanting moan. His length lodges against her deepest reaches. It feels fucking perfect.

"Fuck," she breathes with a cursory flick of her hips. "Holy shit, Thane."

Features painted with pleasured focus, he's stone still beneath her, hands patiently cradling her waist. Thane, her unlikely but disciplined lover, waiting for her next order.

Her voice is a whisper against his lips.

"Let's fucking do this."

And with that, he begins to move with her.

The groan in his throat vibrates through her entire body as she begins to ride him. Her fingers clasp around his shoulders, afraid to put too much pressure on his transplant scars. He grasps her hands in his own, holding her firm and letting her weight fall against him, hips rolling with her as she finds her rhythm.

His voice is a breathy sound somewhere beneath her. "Siha… don't hold back."

She gasps when the next thrust hits home.

"Shut up," she huffs, slanting her lips over his.

Despite their hours spent together on the battlefield, his strength is shocking. It's near impossible to tell who's riding who, his hands firmly on her hips, his body moving beneath her like the rolling ocean, all muscle and sinuous control. Either sex is way better than she remembers, or he's just that good. He ripples in and out of her depths, each of his gentle ridges strumming her like a harp, sweat rolling down the back of her neck.

His venom is already refreshing its hold on her mind when she breaks their kiss for breath. There's a kind of weightlessness to the high - she floats up, baring herself to his wandering hands. They slide against the plane of her stomach, cupping her breasts, plucking teasingly at her nipples. It's enough to make her cry out, heedless to the rest of the world, grinding on him for all she's worth. She feels the hot coil of release building within her, sensations concentrated in every point of contact. The texture of his scales against her inner thighs, his teasing fingertips on her breasts… his burning length buried within her, filling her to completion like no other.

In the throes of his venom, her cabin disintegrates, and there beneath an endless veil of stars, they are one - chasing release in the arms of the other. Words can't describe this perfect headspace. Later, all she'll be able to say is how he feels so good, wishing she could borrow his eidetic memory if only for these few perfect, fleeting moments, to revisit at her behest.

She slips one hand down to massage her clit and pitches her head back in a gasp, walls clenching involuntarily around his length, drawing a low rasp of pleasure from his beautiful, perfect mouth. Their voices are a litany of breathless sounds, a chorus of shared ecstasy - the desperate succession of skin meeting scales, the trilling of his ruby throat and the expletives that fall from her parted lips. She's close - unbelievably close - and damn near unwilling to finish if it means this moment will end, a rare second climax bearing down on her as she folds against him. Even with her hand trapped between their bodies, the sweet pebbled friction of his scales threatens to push her over the edge whether she's ready or not.

She releases with a scream, his name barely intelligible in a strangled half-sobbed cry of bliss that can't be silenced even as she buries her face in his shoulder. Thane's strong arms wind around her waist, holding her as he drives into the silken, pulsing clench of her heat with abandon. The sound of him illuminates the darkness behind her closed eyes as he spends himself within her and she can feel it - a glittering tingle of sensation radiating between her legs, up her spine and blooming into a full scale high.

And then she sags against his chest, heaving breaths in tandem with him, unable to give two tenths of a shit about her hand going numb between them.

"Thane..." She whispers. "Thane, holy shit."

"Are you hurt?"

"...No. I feel... tingly. It's good. It's so… just, good. Holy shit." Her head lolls against his shoulder. She won't open her eyes - not yet. Whatever's going on out there beyond his embrace - for once, it's not her problem. She feels over-relaxed, tinged with unreality. Like a dream. When had she gotten so damn high? If they'd barely -

...Oh, she realizes.

Drell toxin. Inside her.

Thane hums in contentment, his familiar alien hands soothing through her hair. She wonders if he feels just as sated as she does.

"Tell me it was good for you too," she whispers softly against his aural ridge.

"Siha," his voice is quiet, as if murmuring a secret, "It feels unfair to tell you how many times I will revisit this memory."

"I'll allow it, if you tell me we can do this again."

"As if you even need to ask," he chuckles breathlessly. "Yes, I’d like that."

"I don't think I've ever been fucked like that. I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk straight.”

“Not the word I would use, but I’m glad to hear I’ve pleased you.”

She feels his mouth move in a smile and takes a strong inward breath, raising her head to look at him. She can see her own silhouette in his fathomless dark eyes.

"Say it," she demands.

His brows - those gorgeous, expressive, glittering emerald brows - raise in curiosity. It must be the venom making him so vibrant.

"Pardon?"

Shepard extends one finger to gently prod his chest. "Say 'fuck.'"

He laughs beneath her and it feels like her whole body is bouncing, joining him in his mirth.

That laughter reaches his eyes and his expression softens. "I think perhaps we've overindulged. I didn't expect you'd be so heavily affected."

Her eyes widen in mock incredulity. "Overindulged? Don't you dare tell me that was too much for you."

A viridian palm settles against her cheek, his lips curled in a soft smile so rare it seems like a gift. "What I mean to say is it may have been too much for you, Siha."

She pauses, pushes herself up on shaky arms and sits back on his thighs. He's softening within her, and the retreat of him leaves a trail inside her that feels... not exactly, but... Sort of like someone stuck a breath mint where it doesn't belong. Shepard smiles inwardly. It feels kind of great.

"I'm Commander Shepard," she intones, setting her hands on her hips in a dramatic display of confidence. "I can handle getting dicked down by the most deadly lizard in the galaxy."

Thane is damn near grinning now. “My apologies, Commander. I will think twice before underestimating your abilities in the future.”

"I'm not moving until I hear you say 'fuck.'" She retorts, arms crossed.

"You're wrong, if you assume I want you anywhere but right here."

He reaches for her arms, trailing down her to her wrists to clasp her hands. Above him, she watches as though entranced, the dim light of her cabin blurring the edges of her vision and bringing the slow intertwining of their fingers into crisp focus. For all their differences, they fit together so beautifully. Her heart feels full.

"Thane..."

Their eyes meet as he kisses her fingertips.

"Fuck you, Siha."

#zet writes things #thane krios #shrios #spiritual shrios summer #fshrios #o boy please dont judge me too hard cause ive never worked on a fic so hard in my life and i have no idea what i'm doing

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endless-whump · 4 years ago

Text

S/O: Punishment

CW: box boy whump, choking, sadistic whumper, conditioning, caretaker forced to watch/participate in whump, intimate whumper, pet whump, blood, self sacrifice

@whumptober2020 day 9: Take me instead!

Whumptober Masterpost

Simon/Oliver Masterpost

---

“You had one job.”

The sound of Cedrics hand smacking hard against Simon’s head echoed in the room, the young man's head tilting to the side at the blow, hands clenched into fists by his sides. The walls surrounding them felt suffocating, covered in paintings and tapestries, bookshelves filled to the brim with books in the living room.

Oliver cringed at the sound, cowering on the floor. He pressed his forehead against the carpet, focusing on his breathing. Everything ached. It was poker night and he’d been cornered in the hallway by some old friends of Cedric’s...he’d tried to get away.

“You know I can’t let that slide, Simon. You let my things get hurt.”

You already hurt me, though. What does it matter if someone else does

Oliver whimpered as pain exploded in his head, trembling as fear and nausea wracked him from the thought. Those were bad thoughts, thoughts he wasn’t allowed to have. Cedric was allowed to hurt him, he was meant for hurting, nobody was allowed to hurt him except for Cedric.

Simon set his jaw, looking straight ahead, resisting the urge to let his gaze drift to his injured bonded. “I’m sorry, sir. It was a failure on my part, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Damn straight you won’t.” Another crack rang through the air as Cedric slapped him, and Oliver looked up to see blood on his lip, heart dropping. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Both box boys tensed, knowing that low, angry tone of voice.

“You’ll go into the attic tonight, Oliver will be with me tonight. Maybe you’ll learn not to let him out of your sight again.”

Oliver’s blood went cold, terrified at even the mention of the small, dangerous room. It was the room he feared most, in that house.

“P,Please-” Both of their gazes snapped to Oliver, one filled with desperate worry and one filled with smug, unbridled bloodthirst. Oliver tried pushing himself up, arms shaking under his weight. “Please...please punish me instead. M,My fault, please..”

Cedric's gaze drifted to Simon for a moment and then back Oliver, a spark of interest in his eyes. A spark of hunger. Oliver felt sick, breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor. He could see Cedric’s boots in front of him as he crouched down, taking Oliver’s chin and tilting his face up.

“Oliver no-”

“Shut up, Simon.” A thumb brushed tears away, dark eyes meeting his. “You want to take his place, love? In the attic?”

Oliver shuddered and closed his eyes, choking on a sob as he nodded. He deserved the punishment for this, this was his fault.

“You two are so loyal for each other, aren’t you? It’s cute, really.” He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Oliver’s forehead, a gesture Oliver couldn’t help but lean into. “Well, just an excuse to have you in the attic for a night, so I can’t complain. You’re always so good for me, love.”

Oliver choked numbly on a sob, forcing a shaky, empty smile.

Always be good

Blood dripped on the wooden floor, a hazy fog clouding Oliver’s mind. He blinked, trying to drag in air and finding he couldn’t. He didn’t have energy to struggle, to panic, only twitching weakly in instinct against his bonds.

Hands laid wrapped around a bruised throat, pressing hard to cut off air, delighted eyes watching the suffering laid out below him. Cedric straddled the box boy, a knee on either side of him, drinking the delirium in his prey's eyes. He didn’t care about the blood staining his jeans, knowing it would wash out. If not, it's not like he couldn’t afford a new pair. Dark red lines traced across pale skin, steady and deliberate. He never cared for the idea of making it look like art, but he wasn’t careless about it, either. He very rarely left Oliver with scars that weren't carefully intended.

Cedric let his hands loosen just enough for Oliver to drag in a shallow, wheezing breath, eyelids fluttering. He looked so gorgeous like this.

“This was supposed to be for you, you know.”

He could feel the hard stare from Simon as he stood obediently in the corner, watching. Cedric always made him watch. He somehow liked making him mad, it was amusing to watch knowing that no matter what, Simon would always be loyal. That's what he paid for, after all.

“Funny, how he throws himself in the fire for you even when he’s as pathetic as this.”

He swung his leg over Oliver to get off him, wiping his hands off on his jeans as he stood, watching contently. Oliver was a crumpled mess on the ground, gasping weakly for air. Simon started to move forward but stopped short when Cedric put a hand up, smiling as he cocked his head to the side.

“Not tonight, I don’t think. Leave him for now, you can get him in the morning and clean him up like usual.” He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve, the fabric rolled up to his elbows. It would be a cold night, and he wanted Oliver nice and desperate for comfort once he let him downstairs. He could already imagine piling blankets around them and letting him cuddle close, maybe opening up a book and feeling the box boy shiver against his side, tucking himself against Cedric’s side for protection. He could even let him sleep, that was always fun to watch. Cedric smiled at the idea, looking down at his broken, broken Oliver. It was always so much fun to put him back together, and then do it all over again.

The man turned as he walked through the open doorway, glancing back into the small room. He could see the way Simon stared at Oliver, hands clenched into fists as he stared, helpless, at his bonded crumpled on the floor.

“I expect you to lock that door behind you, Simon, and wait outside until nine. I want him in my room by eleven.” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, making a mental note to wear a darker color next time. “Oh- put the metal ones on him tonight, and I want them tight. If there's no bruises when you give him to me, I’ll make him stay up here a second night.”

Cedric always reveled in the fury radiating from that guard dog, knowing that no matter what, he’d always, always obey

---

taglist

@insanitywishes @18-toe-beans @castielamigos-whump-side-blog@simplygrimly @cinnamonflavoredhugs @finder-of-rings @deluxewhump @ashintheairlikesnow @briars7 @albino-whumpee @thatsthewhump

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years ago

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 8: Lucky

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 8. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 7 'Delirium'. There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Toothless, Ryker, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Obsessive whumper”

Whumpee: Hiccup (and Toothless in a way)

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be up already, but I got very distracted by Attack on Titan. I finished my rewatch and I had 3 episodes of season 4 that I needed to catch up on and then I got very distracted by the reactors I follow that I know watch this show, too.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags!

Enjoy!

Ao3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

It's late when he returns home from work. He's completely drained after being on his feet all day and when he steps in through the front door, what he longs for most is to kick off his shoes and prosthetic and crash onto the couch.

Someone has other ideas, as he can tell by the stomping footsteps coming up from behind him as he closes the front door.

They halt, one slipper tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor, and Hiccup knows he's in trouble. He slowly turns to see one furious Astrid Hofferson.

She'd come the second she heard the door open and she'd jumped off the couch to catch him and block his way to the living room. Her blonde hair is undone and lays comfortably on her shoulder.

"Uh, good evening? Milady?" He greets her hesitantly, deciding that a polite approach is probably a better idea than a sassy one.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to clock out two hours ago!" Astrid crosses her arms, a hip out, and awaits a good excuse. He hasn't even called her to let her know that he would be later or anything!

Hiccup puffs out a nervous breath as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to tell her. Upon seeing this, Astrid lets out an agitated sigh, reeling with her boyfriend's thoughtless decision-making.

"Viggo again?" She asks with a hard tone and he knows there is no denying it. Besides, she'd know if he was lying. So he nods honestly instead and she's already throwing her hands up.

"He came by at the coffee shop for a game of chess and I thought I'd entertain him for a little while!" Hiccup hurriedly replies, already imagining Astrid's disappointment in him.

"For two whole hours?!" Her voice raises, she's not too impressed.

"Ugh, yeah..."

"Hiccup, I can't believe you!" She expresses her disbelief before turning on her heels to return to the living room.

"He's obviously a lonely man, Astrid! He just wants some company and a listening ear once in a while!" He tries to reason with her as he follows her to the other room, where Snotlout is sitting on the couch.

Viggo just comes across as a lonely man to him. No partner, no kids, no friends outside of business, and a brother he rarely sees eye to eye with. It makes him want to take at least a few minutes out of his time to spend on him.

"Once in a while, he comes by almost every day, Hiccup! Today, he swallowed up two hours of your time! And after work, too!" Halting before the television, Astrid spins on her heels again to face Hiccup. "Hiccup Haddock, I know you're not a pushover, but somehow this guy gets you to let him walk all over you."

Snotlout should be annoyed that he can no longer watch the tv, the bickering couple interrupting his watch, but that matters little to him

"Heh, Viggo again, Hiccup?" He asks, finding amusement in that fact.

"You know, Hiccup, if you'd rather spend time with some lonely middle-aged dude then your own girlfriend, maybe you should go hook up with him. We'll question your kinks and tastes, though." He adds with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Snot." The couple tells him and Hiccup sighs afterward, awkwardly moving from one foot to another once more. He's tired and his leg hurts and he doesn't like fighting with Astrid. And to make matters worse, he has some news, too. It's not bad news, but he wonders if it'll be received well after Astrid's reaction.

She stands there, fuming, and she probably has plenty of reason to be. His not calling her to let her know where he's at, spending his after work hours with someone who is a virtual stranger to her, who is a creep in her eyes, pushing his own needs aside for someone who clearly has no eye out for his, ... Yup, plenty of reasons. And he might just be about to make it worse.

"Also... I won't be able to sleep here tonight." But it's better to just come out and sat it, so he tells her, his arms crossing.

"And why is that?" Astrid asks, not too pleased. It's Friday evening, she'd hoped to spend at least a little bit of time with him. You know, the time Viggo hasn't selfishly taken for himself yet.

"Well, Toothless came to find me again. I saw him sitting on the rooftop when I got back and... Well, see for yourself." Hiccup gestures towards a rather large window on one side of the room and Snotlout and Astrid look over to find the Night Fury there, watching them through the glass. He's sitting on the fire escape and looks very much like a cat expecting to be let in.

Finally seen, he yowls, wondering what's taking them so long. Hiccup has known all along that he's there, why is he making him wait?

"Oh, the neighbors are going to love this." Astrid groans, cringing at the sound. Snotlout covers his ears.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, which is why I'm dropping off my uniform and going back downstairs to meet him. I'll fly him back to the sanctuary and spent the night at my mom's because I'm-"

"Dead tired from all the work you've done? With a prosthetic?" Astrid cuts him off as she finishes his sentence for him. It's not like she thinks he can't do the same work someone else can, but Hiccup's reality is that standing on his feet all day will make him more exhausted than it would make an abled person. Astrid is aware of this, she just wishes Hiccup would be a little more self-aware from time to time.

Mouth still open, Hiccup stares at her for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, that. But anyway, I'll let you know in the morning if I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday evening." He lets her and Snotlout know before heading over to the bedroom he shares with Astrid.

He's been holding the uniform in his hands. It consists of a dark brown apron and a little hat that feels like paper, though they're all pretty sure it's not made out of paper. He hangs them both up on the coatrack hanging from their bedroom door.

When he comes back into the living room, Astrid is standing before him again.

"Okay, but I doubt he brought a saddle, so will you at least be careful?" She asks of him, still exasperated, but him spending time with Toothless is far better than the alternative, which is the middle-aged man seemingly clinging to a young adult. A young adult who isn't quite 20 yet, no less.

"Of course, Milady, when am I not?" Hiccup asks her with a smile, feeling like they are on slightly better terms now. He'll make it up to her somehow, he doesn't want her feeling like she comes second to some guy he's only known for a few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Astrid comes over and plants her lips on his for a kiss. They don't have any space in their home for a dragon as big as a Night Fury. So, unfortunately, she has no other choice but to let him go. Hiccup returns it wholeheartedly, heart skipping a beat in joy. When does she not make him happy?

When they pull away, Astrid pulls on his hoodie, straightening it out.

"Are you sure that's warm enough for the trip?" She asks him, knowing he gets cold easily. He's about the only person she knows who can still wear long sleeves in the summer. The amount of layers this man needs to get through the colder months is insane.

"I think I'll manage."

"That's not a good answer, Haddock, and you know that."

Snotlout groans in the background at seeing the affection, head rolling back, but they mostly ignore him. So he groans louder on purpose.

"How can I stand living with you two?" He questions when they look over, neither too happy with his interruption.

Toothless yowls again outside and someone shouts at "the big cat" to be quiet.

"Geez, impatient much?" Hiccup mutters under his breath and gestures to his dragon to get down from the fire escape. He should get going before Toothless gets them all kicked out of here.

"Again, be careful. And oh, don't forget to call when you arrive and tell your mom we said "hi"." Astrid quickly says as Hiccup heads for the door.

"I will! I'll see you guys later, Snotlout, Milady." At that last one, he shoots Astrid a quick smile.

Snotlout lets his head roll back again and-

"If you groan one more time, it's off to bed with you."

It takes a quick ride on the elevator down, but Hiccup is outside soon enough. It's summer and that means the air is cooler then it is during the day, but not quite cool enough. Even so, Hiccup pulls on his hoodie to cover as much of his collarbone and neck as it can before he looks up towards the top of the building.

"Bud?!" He calls out excitedly, expecting to be tackled by a dragon much bigger and much heavier than him in the next few seconds. He's bracing himself, it could come from any direction...

But instead, there is no response.

Strange.

"Bud!" Hiccup calls out again, didn't he hear him the first time? Dragons of his kind usually have a good hearing. Or he ignoring his calls? Making him wait because it's been so long since he's come by for a visit? He hates admitting it, but work has been kicking his ass. It's hard to do anything on most days and even during most weekends he finds himself in need of the mere two days of rest he can get.

"It's because you haven't worked a day in your life, son, you'll get used to it." Hiccup can hear his father say in his head and he can still feel the need to roll his eyes. He's worked! At the sanctuary and only what he was allowed to do, but he's done stuff before!

"Toothless?!" Moving from the sidewalk to between two parked cars to hopefully get a better view of the roof, Hiccup tries again, but gets no answer this time either. He was hoping to at least see some earfins pop up by now.

"Really, Toothless? Is this the time to play hide and seek?" Hiccup mutters to himself. He knows his dragon misses him terribly when they're not together, he misses him, too, but now's not the time. He's tired and he would like to fly back to the sanctuary already.

Checking the road behind him and finding the street empty for the moment, Hiccup cautiously takes another step or two back. In this part of the city, people usually don't drive as fast as they can in the busier parts. And at this hour, not too many cars come by either.

"Toothless, seriously?!" He calls up again, keeping a careful eye and ear out on either side of him. Don't tell him he's stuck on the fire escape again.

"Are you stuck?! Do I need to come get you?!" Hiccup asks, never losing sight of the street he's on. It's still quiet so far, no approaching lights, no roaring engines.

Finally, Toothless calls back to him and the call sounds far, so he must still be in the fire escape after all. Sighing, Hiccup figures he may as well look.

It's at that moment, probably by pure dumb luck, that a dark car with no plates and tinted windows comes speeding from around the corner.

Driving at speeds way, way above the limit, the car can't possibly be avoided. Hiccup sees it coming, has only seconds to stare into the blinding headlights as they come too fast, and there's nothing he can do but get hit.

The front of the vehicle hits his right side with full force first and he ends up on the hood for a brief moment. It all happens so fast, before long he rolls onto the pavement and is left to lie there on the ground. The collision broke some of his ribs, hurt his hip, dislocated his bad knee, bruised his wrists, scraped him all over, and he'll be a lucky man if that is all a hit from such speeds leaves him with.

Body hurting and unable to move, all Hiccup can do is groan. He can't get up like this. Who and why would just run him over like this? His head hurts, he must've knocked it on the ground.

After the hit, the car screeches to a halt and a man steps out. When he comes over, Hiccup can't see who it is, can barely turn his head to the approaching footsteps. When he tries, another pained groan leaves him. He can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Everything is too much for his aching head, too much to process. He's on the verge of passing out, it's becoming black before his eyes.

The man who mowed him down stands over him. Hiccup can't see his face, but if he could, he'd see the satisfied look of another job well done. He's grabbed by his arms and pulled towards the car. Hiccup cringes at the unnecessary additional abuse his body must endure.

"W-wait... What're you... Why?" He can't struggle against him, can't keep the man from dragging him towards the car, it's taking him everything not to pass out.

When they reach the car, the trunk is opened and Hiccup is picked up and unceremoniously dropped inside. His body is in agony and he would've shouted if his ribs allowed it, but his apparent kidnapper doesn't seem to care much. If anything, he huffs and the trunk closes, bathing Hiccup in darkness.

What just happened to him? For whatever reason, whether it be the shock or the pain, he still can't move.

While this is happening, Toothless is, indeed, stuck. A fire escape isn't meant for dragons, let alone a dragon his size, nothing in a city is. This is a place for humans, which is why he thought to drag Hiccup back home himself. He wasn't coming of his own volition, so Toothless had to come and see what was taking him so long. But when he gets up to meet with his friend, he finds his tail to be stuck in the railing.

It's a hindrance and it's more annoying than a real problem. He can solve this without needing Hiccup's help, he just needs to be careful not to damage the replacement tailfin he so carefully crafted for him.

Murring impatiently as he tries to find the right angle to do this from, Astrid and Snotlout are watching him from the window, both concerned. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Astrid mouth something and she's gesturing in a way that's supposed to be helping him, but he doesn't quite get it. He's only half-looking, too.

On the other side of the building, Hiccup is calling for him and Toothless calls back once to tell him he's still coming. He just needs to be a little more patient and then he'll be there.

But then he hears a screeching that sounds like a noise one of those large metal contraptions the humans ride on would make. It's an awful sound to his ears, but not as alarming as the noise of a heavy thing hitting something not even a quarter of that thing's weight. And all of that is followed by a noise of pain Toothless is all too familiar with.

Was that Hiccup? Is someone hurting him?

Toothless knows that he needs to see what's happening and he all but tears himself free, the carefully refined leather hooking onto something metal sticking out and ripping. He hurries up the rest of the fire escape up on the roof, climbing the outside expertly like only a cat of his size and strength can, he'll be able to see more from there.

A disability has only affected his speed and agility so much, Hiccup can largely be thanked for that. As someone who is missing a leg, he knows a thing or two about loss. He reaches the roof quickly and he thinks to check the front of the building first, where the noises came from. What he sees confuses him, however.

There's a human male taking his friend and putting him in the back of that metal deathtrap.

His knowledge of humans and their strange behaviors only goes so far and he doesn't know what the intention here is, just that he doesn't like it. This screams "bad" to him and he growls in anger, claws scraping on the bricked walls. Someone is taking his rider away.

The male then gets into the "car", as they're called, and he can hear it revving to life. That's when Toothless knows it's now or never.

He's a Night Fury, leaping off tall things isn't anything new to him, so he takes a chance. He doesn't yet realize that his prosthetic tailfin is torn and that it will hinder him greatly in his pursuit. He wants to land on the vehicle itself, scare the driver, rip him out, and then get Hiccup out. His mate and that small friend of his are in their communal den. If he's loud enough, he can get them to come down and see. In the meantime, he can make sure the bigger male can't touch the car again and that he's too incapacitated to get away, too.

That's the plan, thought up in a matter of a second or two and he commits to it, he takes the leap. Except with a rip in his tailfin and the car moving away at the same time, all Toothless manages to do is scratch up the back and take the rear bumper right off.

Inside the trunk, Hiccup is almost startled to full alertness with his dragon's claws scraping above him and taking a part of the vehicle with him. There's a man's muffled cursing and what a mouth he has on him.

It takes Toothless a second too long to realize that he's holding just a piece of the car instead of the whole thing.

Did he just fail? A Night Fury isn't supposed to fail, if anything, they're supposed to be the pride of dragons! And he just failed his human?

He looks behind him, sees the tear in the cloth Hiccup made for him. He's lost his advantage and now he can't fly after the car either! He wished he'd jumped on time instead of too late, wished he'd thought to jump in front of it, too! If he'd just aimed right, he would've landed on the car instead of just snatching the rear bumper.

All that's left for him now is to chase. He's still plenty fast on the ground, he can leap, he'll find some other way to stop the damn thing. A plasma blast will land him in serious trouble, but that's not even high on the number of things he's willing to do to get Hiccup back.

They're not far, he can still see them.

But then another car comes from around the corner. They aren't driving particularly fast, but finding a dragon in your path is a startling thing and Toothless is startled in return. They almost block his path, nearly driving into the car parked nearby. Then a second comes and a third and they all screech to a halt, honking and yelling in surprise. They do nothing but hinder him in a city that's already too loud and unwelcoming and chaotic for a dragon.

Toothless has to evade them, doing whatever he can to just not get accidentally hit as he chases after his friend. He jumps onto a parked car, trying to spot the one that took Hiccup.

It's nowhere to be found.

Hiccup can hear it as he slips away, the miserable cries of a dragon in distress with cars honking in the distance, both deafeningly loud.

"I'm here, Bud, I'm... I'm here..." His words of reassurance fade as he falls unconscious, losing the fight to stay awake.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain. That's what Hiccup wakes up to hours later. An immeasurable amount of pain and the inability to breathe properly as his ribs are keeping him from it.

He groans miserably, feeling awful after someone came speeding down a relatively calm street to run him over. His head is a little slow in catching up on the events that landed him in this situation, but his body has a great memory. He hurts so much, there isn't a part of him that isn't in agony.

There are voices and an unfamiliar hand lays itself on his forehead. Is he in the hospital? Is there are a doctor or a nurse checking up on him? Oh, can they please give him something for the pain? He woke up only moments ago and he wants so desperately for it to end.

"You wanted him, now here he is." One of the voices breaks through the haze in his mind, the first words he's managing to register so far. Why does his head pound? Why is everything pounding?

He remembers headlights.

"And you felt like you had to run him over, did you?" Run over who? Can either of these two give him something to kill the pain? Or an explanation would be nice, too.

He groans louder, hoping to ask for help, but no coherent words leave him. That hand is in his hair now. Care is nice and all, but it would be much nicer if they could pick up on what he's trying to beg for here.

"You could've killed him on the spot! He might even still succumb to his injuries." No wait, that voice is familiar to him. The other one he doesn't recognize, but this one rings a vague bell. Hiccup has to open his eyes and take a look.

"Don't get my hopes up."

There are two men that he can see through a blurred vision and a dim light that's still a nightmare on his headache. He can't recognize one of them.

The other one, however...

"V...Vi... ggo?" Hiccup asks, voice hoarse. It's the first word that he manages to croak out. What's he doing in the hospital with him? Now that he thinks of it, where is Astrid? Snotlout? He can't remember if Fishlegs and the twins were home.

An image of Toothless flashes before his mind. He was there, wasn't he? Where is he now?

"you're awake, good, I was starting to worry," Viggo tells him, looking down at him with a look that isn't quite as caring as those words would suggest.

Hiccup blinks slowly in surprise.

"Where... What are you doing here? Where am I? Toothless is... What happened?" The questions are slow to leave him, but he's starting to catch up a little. He's not quite as awake as he needs to be yet. Why is this room so dim? Aren't hospital lights usually so annoyingly bright?

He wants to sit up or readjust somehow, feeling too uncomfortable with everything his body is going through. But though he tries, he only ends up worsening the pain in his right side tremendously. Whatever little progress he may have made is undone when he's forced to lie down again. His left knee hurts, did he dislocate it again?

This bed is so uncomfortable and lumpy, is this mattress even from this century anymore?

But the pain wakes him up at least and he can grasp the sort of troubling situation he's suddenly in a little more now.

This isn't the hospital.

He doesn't know what room he's in, but he can see that the little light bulb on the ceiling is bare and the only light source in this place, that the walls are brick, and the floor is made of concrete. If it weren't for the lack of storage space, he'd think that this is a basement, but that couldn't be it, right? He can't just be in someone's basement! He notices there's a ridiculously tiny bathroom off to the side, which at least looks clean.

What Hiccup's lying on is, indeed, a bed and his painful wrists are cuffed to the sides. If he wants to pull at them, he can try once or twice, but after that, they won't allow any more attempts.

Realization comes and panic sets in.

He's been kidnapped.

"Wh-what... What?!" He can't comprehend it, his thoughts and heart racing and struggling to keep up. Hyperventilating and very quickly unable to breathe at all, the rapid pace cannot mix with his broken ribs.

Did Viggo do this to him? Why would he do something like this?! Why would he hit him with a car and take him from his home?!

"Hiccup, calm yourself!" Viggo takes his shoulders and, honestly, how can he expect Hiccup not to freak out when he's been kidnapped?!

Oh Gods, Astrid was right. She was right, Viggo was bad from the start. And he's the idiot who walked right into another trap. Why does he keep getting himself into trouble like this?

Oh no, and what of his Bud? He definitely remembers his dragon being there when he was taken, what happened to him? What could've possibly happened to him?

"No... No! T-Tooth... Tooth?!" He doesn't have the air to ask, his lungs and his ribs in a fierce battle for whose needs need to be met first. They both burn.

"Hiccup, I implore you to calm!" Despite Viggo's best attempts, Hiccup doesn't listen to him, too much in a panic. If this goes on, he'll lose him before he can even start molding him to his perfect partner.

"That's never going to work, Viggo. You know there's only one solution to this." The other man, the stranger, states as he pushes him aside. A soaked cloth is pressed to Hiccup's nose and mouth, the sedative wetting it is breathed in immediately with his fast breathing and it takes its hold just as fast.

A different kind of haze settles in his mind, he's feeling woozy. It works quicker than he can realize he's being knocked out. He's going under, his breathing evening out, and his last thoughts wonders about his friends.

26 notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 5 years ago

Note

Any jungkook angst with no smut? Thank you!

yes hello. ‘tis me. Finally responding to you after 31498237 months.

i rarely read full on ANGST because my weak heart cannot take it, ok. So i don’t have a lot to share and most of the fics i read are pretty short. i don’t think any of what i read are series bc omg can u imagine a full on series with NO HAPPINESS!! I WOULD D WORD!!!!!!!1 sjadflakwe but i’ve included some angsty series in the 2nd half of this compilation!

as requested, no smut. i’m sorry if i missed something and it does have smut 🙏 also this ask made me realize how many angsty fics DO have smut involved, lololol we’re all a bunch of emo hornies and tbh,,, i’m not even gonna deny that 😂 ok ok i’ll stop rambling now.

* m/n: mai notes can also be read as “my notes”. ha ha ha wow i’m so punny.

HAVE READ:

⊱ ┄ A Fallen Bookmark on A Thursday Afternoon by @cutaepatootie

summary: He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

⊱ ┄ A Mark of Betrayal by @jimlingss

summary: Forgotten as the eighth deadly sin; each time one betrays, a mark will be signed on their skin…

⊱ ┄ A Piece of the Moonlight by @jimlingss

summary: For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

⊱ ┄ Blue Orchids by @inktae

summary: You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

m/n: this is like… one of THE og bts fics and i will always promote it bc IT DESERVES TO BE READ BY EVERYONE

⊱ ┄ Delirium by @sseudanym

summary: What to feel, when it’s all gone.

⊱ ┄ Give Me Your Hands (I Will Pick the Stars for You) by mindheist (AO3)

summary: I miss you like the moon misses the sun, destined to chase you until the end of time.

m/n: this is the only mxm fic here. it’s jungkook x taehyung :) i hope it won’t deter you from reading it though! it’s an absolutely beautiful story.

⊱ ┄ In My Head by obiwrites (AO3)

summary: The one where you and your long time boyfriend aren’t on the same page

⊱ ┄ It’s Enough by @dark-muse-iris

summary: Preparing dinner reminds you of all the struggles you’ve experienced in your marriage. Your husband Jungkook, ever your anchor, tries to cheer you up with gentle words.

⊱ ┄ Mamihlapinatapai by @tayegi

summary: Mamihlapinatapai (noun): a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.

⊱ ┄ My Beauty, My Blood by @7cypher

summary: With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

⊱ ┄ Resentment by obiwrites (AO3)

summary: It was an ugly kind of sad. The kind that kept you up at night, that weighed heavy in your chest and made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, it made you feel like molasses—made your limbs drag and your body ache. You’d heard of the physical effects of depression—but you weren’t expecting this.

⊱ ┄ The Train of Lost Souls by @inktae

summary: The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options. You can choose to live or you can choose to move on. You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it. The choice is solely yours.

m/n: ok so this is technically a Hoseok fic since the reader is interacting with Hoseok, but Jungkook is a part of this fic and IT HURTS ME SO MUCH SO I HAD TO INCLUDE THIS OK

⊱ ┄ The Swirling Ways of Stars by @inktae

summary: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t feel like home.

⊱ ┄ Untitled by @floralseokjin

summary: He noticed you almost instantly. Like the wind blowing autumn leaves past his heels, he felt you near him. His body an instant constant buzzing as he stood inside the kitchen, back against the counter where he watched you outside. The separation of the living area and the balcony window feeling miles away regardless of how close he was to you…how close you were to him…

⊱ ┄ We Were by @gukyi

summary: Not all once upon a time’s have happily ever after’s.

⊱ ┄ Water Ripples by @inktae

summary: It may be a mistake caused by unreachable forces, but it is not a curse, like some may think. Meeting each other, being able to touch each other but being forbidden to stay close beyond the limits of the sea could be considered torture — where is the pleasure in getting a taste of something you cannot have, an ephemeral spark in the night? in getting wings that can’t make you soar, no matter how many times they flutter?

m/n: i made the mistake of rereading this when i was compiling this list and yes i am crying again. hooo booyyy.

HAVE NOT READ YET:

⊱ ┄ Below Thunder Showers by @inktae

summary: Min Yoongi leads Earth with a stern hand and a pair of cold eyes. You lead a withered space station that’s been losing hope for years, mind tired and heart torn. Jeon Jungkook is no more than a broken soldier who’s slowly losing his humanity, but his longing for the rain keeps him tied to the ground. Three paths converge again when the two worlds clash, and as precarious as they were, it does not stop you from falling in love for a second time.

⊱ ┄ Blossom by @dimpled-gukkie

summary: “Blossom, blossom, blossom. As unexperienced as I may be in the field you really didn’t think I’d only bring one weapon did you? It’s no wonder your gang has gone to shit ever since your dad died, it’s clear that you’re incompetent as well as incapable of being a good leader.” He laughs, raising the gun to point at you. You raise your own and he just smiles again before setting his weapon down. “You know what, how about we do this the old fashion way? I heard guns weren’t your specialty anyways.” Shrugging off his coat you spot the long dagger tucked into his waistband. “Cmon sweetheart, show me just how dangerous you are.”

⊱ ┄ Contradict by @drowsymochi

summary: Jungkook is a name you hear often around the crowded city of Seoul, South Korea. Jungkook is the leader of Bangtan, a gang that has acquired a worldwide audience. The gang is stationed in Seoul, creating a feeling of uneasiness on the streets. Everyone in the city has been acquainted with one of the members at some time, being that they’re always around. For the most part, they don’t harm innocent civilians unless they commit a crime that the members find worthy of punishment. That penalty can range from bankruptcy, to torture and eventually death, which makes the city wary of their words and surroundings. If only you had been as terrified as everyone else.

⊱ ┄ Downfall by @donewithjeon

summary: Your hesitation cost you dearly, and you swore never to let it happen again.

⊱ ┄ Drown For You by @callistojjk

summary: There was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. All you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

⊱ ┄ Drag Me Down to Hell by @kimvtae

summary: There’s a darkness to your city, a murderous underbelly filled with crime and deceit that you’ve sworn to avoid at all costs. But the universe has funny ways of forcing your involvement in the form of a notorious mob boss and his young daughter.

⊱ ┄ Expensive Mistakes by @honeyedhoseok

summary: Your night spent swindling at the pool table goes left when your lackluster skills are found to be false, so it’s a good thing Jungkook has some supernatural abilities to keep D and his friends from recollecting their money–but his help comes at a price.

⊱ ┄ Fierce And Delicate by @mintseesaw

summary: Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

⊱ ┄ Fallout Technical Report by @pantaemonium

summary: You knew you should not go into the darkness of night, even if your hope had run thin. The monsters were free to walk the earth, and some of them were still as human as you.

⊱ ┄ Fear in Your Eyes by @gukyi

summary: There’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

⊱ ┄ First Light by @inktae

summary: “Have you ever felt like the world is too loud sometimes?” “No. For me it’s always quiet.”

⊱ ┄ Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places by @jungtaeyoongles

summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there. AKA Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn’t work out according to his plan.

⊱ ┄ Gravity by @donewithjeon

summary: The universe works in mysterious ways. What you didn’t know was that the world would give you the best at such a young age.

⊱ ┄ I Got You On My Mind by @bangtanbombimagines

summary: In a world where soulmates can share thoughts, you never imagined that the sweet voice in your head would belong to a guy like Jungkook.

⊱ ┄ Lost Boy by @hoshikimatata

summary: You are the only girl Jungkook keeps coming back to, and you thought that made you the one to save him. But in the end, he’s the only one who can save himself.

⊱ ┄ Let Me Stay Close To You by @9uk

summary: You were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. The doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. That shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

⊱ ┄ Left Behind by @bbfairy

summary: Every person is required to go through a series of tests to see if they’re smart enough to be a part of the upper, elite district. You and Jungkook are childhood friends. Jungkook’s dream is to live with you in the elite class, but deep down, you’ve always known that you’ll fail the exams. For ten years, you wrote letters to give him on the day of his expected departure.

⊱ ┄ Lie to Me by @hugseoks

summary: It had seemed so easy for you to move on, did you even care at all?

⊱ ┄ Pull Me Down by @starryeyedgukk

summary: “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

⊱ ┄ Rooftop by @thelillzmonster

summary: An unrequited love burdens your fragile heart. And when an unfamiliar, isolated boy is thrown into the mix, you’re not sure whether it all turns for the better or worse.

⊱ ┄ The Burning Flame by @bangtanfanfiction

summary: You’re sent as a scout from the Academy into enemy territory, tasked with the mission to make sure their king doesn’t unleash another war on the four nations. During your quest, you get tangled up with a lone rider, as stubborn and hard as the scales of his dragon.

⊱ ┄ The Black Veil by @jungcock

summary: You never wanted to be a vampire, yet you had been 21 years old for the last 2 centuries. You never wanted a relationship either, yet you incidentally make a very human Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you, twice.

⊱ ┄ Waste It On Me by @byeoltoyuki

summary: Being a journalist, you were familiar with the concept of taking risks and pushing your limits to get the best story. But when a gangster by the name of Jungkook tries to involve himself in your quiet, safe personal life, you are forced to reconsider the limits of your comfort zone, your boundaries, your morals and even your feelings.

⊱ ┄ Why I Hate You by @floofyeol

summary: Jeon Jungkook’s only regret, is knowing her in the first place.

⊱ ┄ Watchdog by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

summary: Being kidnapped, then ‘accidentally’ eavesdropping on a lot of Intel that was specifically not for outside ears, was definitely not your way of being ‘recruited’ into the mafia world. Much less end up with a companion who didn’t seem very fond of you, but stuck guarding and watching you. A Watchdog sort of man he was, and almost entirely too suffocating.

⊱ ┄ Written on the Sky by @inktae

summary: Time is, without a doubt, merciless.

⊱ ┄ What Happened by @bangtanfanfiction

summary: You and Jungkook’s relationship was on the tip of the edge. Is there any possibility to get it back up?

#so basically just read all of inktae's fics lol #bts fic recs #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #yes i wrote 'smutties'#fite me #g recs #anon #f:jjk

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alirhi · 3 years ago

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chapter two :)

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 2/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable.

WARNINGS: m/m, in case that wasn't obvious. probably some swearing. I rarely do explicit sex but it might get to that point, depending on if the mood strikes me. If you're under 18, just go away XD Notes: taking advantage of the muse while I've got it lol. I should be working on actual books but... Loki took over my brain [EDIT] I rewatched CW after writing this chapter and realized there was no snow XD everything was green. Clearly, they were in SoCal, not NY. I'm from the Northeast, so I automatically associate December with snow, ice, and all things evil (I hate extremes lol). My bad.

Loki, you've changed.

"I'm fine."

Loki, you've become so unfocused.

"I'm fine."

Loki, are you alright, dear?

"I'm fine!" Maybe, he'd thought, if he repeated it often enough, it might become true. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. He's gone-I'M FINE!

He'd never told anyone about his soldier boy; Heimdall was the only one who even knew Loki was going to Midgard frequently in the early 1940s, and even he didn't know why. Loki had made sure of it. A handy, if tiring trick, to keep prying all-seeing eyes out of his business. The end result of his desire for privacy, though, the price he paid for being cagey, was that when he went back and found himself alone, he couldn't tell anyone what he'd lost.

Bucky was gone. He was gone, and Loki couldn't even share his grief with his mother, because he'd been so scared to tell her about his unexpected, unorthodox love. For a brief few months, he'd found little stolen moments of bliss; a heartbeat, and barely that. He'd known his fragile human love would one day perish, and that he'd never be ready, but even in his darkest nightmares of the war Bucky was facing, he'd never truly thought it would happen this soon.

He was gone, and Loki was left all alone. He couldn't let anyone see his grief, so he showed them indifference. He showed them callous disregard and a flippant sharp tongue that drove them all mad. He could turn to none of them, so he did all he could to turn them away; maybe if they weren't all looking at him, for just a few minutes, he could let himself break and weep for the love stolen from him too soon.

Eventually, he realized he would never have that moment if he stayed on Asgard. There were simply too many prying eyes, and not enough holes to hide from them in. Though it tore him to shreds to even think it, he snuck away back to Midgard for the first time in decades.

The spot he'd chosen was meant to be deserted. A snowy woodland road in the middle of the night, he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to be there. It was perfect, really. Except that it wasn't actually deserted.

It took him a moment to understand what he was seeing as he approached the two vehicles. One was an automobile, its front end smashed against a tree and in flames, with two silent, unmoving passengers. The other was a motorcycle, and that really confused him. Who would ride around so exposed in this kind of weather?

Movement caught his eye, and for a brief, foolish second he felt relief. Someone was helping the unconscious pair in the car-no. Someone was walking away from them.

Someone unnervingly familiar. "James?" It couldn't be! He'd died in that bloody war! Even if he hadn't, humans aged rapidly; he'd be an old man, barely able to move, much less choke the life out of a woman, which Loki's brain oh-so-helpfully had just processed, belatedly.

This man, who looked like Bucky but wasn't, had just murdered someone right in front of him. Loki wasn't even sure if he cared. He was too stunned and confused to feel much of anything.

The man didn't respond, but he did march straight up to him. At first, Loki thought they might have a conversation – perhaps this was a relative of Bucky's, wondering how Loki knew his great-great Uncle or some such?

No. He was getting rather tired of being wrong. Perhaps Odin was right; he was unfocused, off his game. The man's icy metal fingers were wrapped around his throat before he'd fully processed what was about to happen.

Without thinking, Loki smirked and taunted, "Straight to it, then? It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

That voice! "It can't be...!" Eyes wide, Loki broke his own code and slapped a hand onto the man's fluffy head. It couldn't be Bucky, after all, so reading his mind wasn't betraying the man he loved.

The mad, nonsensical scramble that flooded his mind nearly made him faint. It was like a long, distorted scream tearing through his head. They both let go of the other and stumbled back, not-Bucky looking stunned and confused, and Loki barely able to think straight through the pain and confusion.

One word slowly made its way to the surface out of the din: HYDRA.

"What is HYDRA?" He was still clutching his own head, willing the world to stop spinning at such an alarming, nauseating rate, when he heard the other man's voice again.

"Hail HYDRA." It was soft, monotone and automatic, as if he wasn't even fully aware of what he was saying. Even with that haunting lack of emotion, that voice was too familiar.

Loki had to know what was going on. Bracing himself for another onslaught, he gripped the man's head with both hands and focused with all his might. The static nearly overwhelmed him, but the images slowly made their way through. Capture, imprisonment, torture... Trauma and anger and diving right back into the fray. Falling. Pain. Delirium.

"You will be the new fist of HYDRA."

It finally clicked, and he threw his arms around Bucky – yes, Gods, it was Bucky! HYDRA. He knew that name! That was the organization within the Nazi ranks that Bucky had been fighting against.

"Oh, James! What did they do to you?"

He was so caught up in trying to piece it all together from his love's suppressed memories that he was completely unprepared when Bucky shoved him back, and he fell right on his ass in a snow bank. Indignant, he hopped back to his feet and started brushing himself off, but paused when he found the barrel of a gun in his peripheral vision. With his patented arrogant smirk firmly in place, he informed him, "That won't kill me."

Bucky looked confused, and the gun wavered. Then, for a split second, Bucky – his Bucky – was back and Loki was folded tightly in his arms. They held each other like a lifeline, smashing their lips together in a fierce kiss that left them both breathless.

"Loki?"

He smiled through the haze of tears suddenly blurring his vision, a choked laugh that was more than half-sob escaping him as he ran his hands through that ridiculous long hair over and over again. "Yes. I don't know how you're alive, but I am so grateful!"

"Run!" Eyes wild, Bucky pushed him back, more gently this time, but with far more urgency. "'No witnesses.' Loki, you have to run! Now!"

"What?"

"Get out of here, before I figure out what will kill you!"

"I don't understand..." The machine. The final piece fell into place from Bucky's scrambled memories, and filled him with rage. The reason Bucky's mind was so screwed up, the reason he wavered even now and the dull, robotic look returned to his eyes; they'd figured out how to control him. They'd stripped away his free will and left him a shell of himself, able only to obey their orders.

He could see the internal struggle as what was left of his Bucky fought against the mindless soldier. Hoping to mitigate that as much as he could until he could free the other man, he assured him through clenched teeth, "Do what you have to, Sergeant. Survive. I'll take care of the rest."

The look of profound confusion, of a little lost puppy, was heartbreaking. Bucky was trying so hard to stay himself, to not harm him. Watching him suffer was more than Loki could bear.

"I'll return for you," he swore as he slipped back into the shadows. "I'm going to burn it all down."

______________________________________________________

Next Masterlist

#fanfic #loki #bucky barnes #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier #m/m #loki/bucky #sebastian stan #tom hiddleston #winter's frost

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ruination-fangs · 4 years ago

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Tales of Asteria, Chapter 4 Raven’s Scenario: Strands of the Truth Stages 1-3

I am still doing this. very very slowly

Stage 1: Dreams of Empty Space

Scene 1:

In a throne room, a nameless man pledges his sword to the king and the people. The man who appears to be the king recognizes him as a knight and protector of the throne.

Suddenly he finds himself on a battlefield, panting.

Nameless Man: Dammit... Why is this happening... And just when we were finally able to stand together...! We couldn't stop any of it..! Enemy soldiers: There's a survivor! Surround him and kill him! Nameless Man: ...Fine. I'll end it myself. This stupid war... all of it... in exchange for this life. *Shing* Nameless Man: ...Wait for me just a little longer. I'll be there soon. Haaaaaah....!

Raven: That was... ???: What's with you? What happened? You always look so sullen, Raven. Raven: You're...

Raven wakes up, and realizes it was a dream - an odd dream he keeps having lately. The person on the throne isn't Lazarus, but he doesn't know who it is. He's never seen a war like that, either, but it feels strangely real - especially the voice at the end. He can't recall where he's heard it before, or whether it was recently or a long time ago. Thinking about it makes him tired.

He notices that it's raining now. He has to go out to work on a case, but he doesn't want to end up with a cold. He wishes he could just quit, though he knows he can't.

There's a knock at the door. Assuming it’s a customer, he welcomes the guest in.

???: I'd say I'm sorry to intrude... but you sure don't look busy in here. Raven: My apologies, we... Oh, it's you. Claw: ...Yeah. Long time no see, Raven.

Scene 2:

Raven remarks that it's rare to see Claw there, to which Claw replies he has little reason to visit. Even so, he tells Raven not to look so sullen. It's the same words from Raven's dream, and Raven visibly reacts. When Claw notices, Raven says he's just disappointed because he thought he finally had a customer. Claw suggests he's more like a colleague, even though Raven describes himself as just as lousy old shopkeeper - ostensibly.

As expected, Claw came to ask about a fugitive. He wants to know if Raven has heard anything about a supposed accomplice of the person they're after. Raven guesses he means the "cool beauty" who disrupted the recent festival, and wonders why Claw is asking, because he heard that the White Lions were already on the trail. Claw explains that they lost the criminal when she fell off a cliff in the Gahram Mountains, and somehow there was no trace of her to be found at the bottom. It's no longer a straightforward case, and they're seeking information about the accomplice because they need a new clue.

Unfortunately, Raven has nothing to offer, though he's doing all he can to look into it. Claw gets snippy about how Raven isn't as good as he thought he was then, but Raven just remarks that it's rare to see him so tired. Claw points out that not only do they have someone on the run, the prime minister's sister was kidnapped, and apparently a new criminal showed up in the city yesterday. They can't search for all of them at the same time.

Raven wishes him good luck; that's the White Lions' jurisdiction, after all, not his. Exasperated, Claw requests that Raven let him know if he finds anything, and Raven agrees. He has a responsibility in this case too. Claw also offers a reward of a good meal for good info, which catches Raven's attention. He thanks Raven before he leaves.

Once he's gone, Raven thinks on the fact that he'd like to help the White Lions, but, things being what they are, it's out of the question right now. He apologizes to Claw and goes outside, where it's still raining. He'd rather stay inside, but he has to hurry and find the "target" before the White Lions' investigation drives them into hiding.

Stage 2: Frightened Girl in a Rainy City

Scene 1:

A young girl runs down a city street in the pouring rain. Her doll-like companion is worried she'll catch a cold, and when she pauses, a woman approaches, concerned. The woman insists the girl come to her house and dry off, but before they get there, they're stopped by a knight asking what's going on. Seeing that the knight is with the White Lions, the doll tells the girl to run. She apologizes and takes off.

Elsewhere, an information broker tells Raven about a girl wandering around in the rain, sticking to the back alleys. When a knight tried to speak to her, she got scared and ran away. Raven thanks the informant and leaves.

This is the only useful information he's gotten from asking around. Still, having met Velvet, he's pretty sure she wouldn't have left the chancellor's sister in the city. He doesn't know what Lady Lazarus is up to, but he's good at simply following along with whatever happens.

With no time to waste and no other leads, he decides to investigate the back alleys the informant mentioned.

When he gets there, he sees White Lions here and there, probably keeping an eye out for the escaped criminal. Suddenly the little girl appears, and Raven realizes she's the one the informant was talking about.

Scene 2:

Raven wants to talk to the girl, but she won't let him close to her. When Raven reassures her that she doesn't have to be scared - he's surprisingly gentlemanly for an old man - the floating doll tells him not to touch her. Raven is surprised, but he's not intending to follow them or anything. He just wants to talk. Still, the doll insists he stay away.

Suddenly the girl starts gasping for breath and staggering around. She says she's okay, but she immediately collapses and cries for help. Exasperated, Raven decides it'll cause problems if she dies, and picks her up. The doll stays quiet. Raven mutters that there certainly does seem to be something going on here, and it's turned into quite a mess.

Stage 3: The Pair at the Anything Agency

Scene 1:

Raven watches the girl sleep on the couch in his quarters. She's really out of it, but she doesn't seem to be hurt, just completely exhausted. Suddenly she starts groaning in her sleep as if she's having a bad dream.

???: Lady Lazarus... why... I didn't see... anything...

Her sleeptalking alarms Raven, but at that moment a voice screams "divine punishment!!" and a young woman bursts in.

???: Rayray! I thought you were better than this! Raven: Ow ow ow... What are you doing back so suddenly, little Norma? What did I do? Norma: What did you do!? How could you bring such an innocent girl back here!?

Raven insists she's misunderstood and he's just trying to help the girl. Norma is upset, both about their lack of work recently, and how Raven is always so cryptic. She believed better of him, and demands an explanation.

When Raven can finally get a word in, he tells her that he found the girl in the alleys. She seemed to be lost, and it was a sad sight, watching her running around in the pouring rain. So the gentlemanly old man who just so happened to be there brought her to shelter. Norma is skeptical, both of his story and his assertion that he would never lie to her.

While they're arguing, Teepo wakes up, and Norma freaks out about the talking doll. Raven says he was surprised too at first, though he tabled the issue because he had bigger problems to deal with. Elize is awake too now, and is alarmed when Norma and Raven notice her.

Scene 2:

Elize is silent. Raven is glad she's awake, but he would prefer she speak up. Norma tells him to be quiet and let her handle things.

Norma: Hello! I'm Norma Beatty. This guy with the messy hair is Raven. This is our agency, The Office of Beatty and Beatty. Raven: "The Office of Beatty and Beatty"? I don't remember agreeing to that. Seriously, Beatty and Beatty? Those are both your- Norma: So, what happened to you? Would you mind telling me? Raven: Wh- Don't ignore me!

The girl haltingly tells them that she’s a student, but she was running away because she got caught up in something scary. Raven mentions that while she was sleeping, she was very restless and muttered something about Lady Lazarus. He'd be willing to chalk it up to delirium, but she seemed terrified.

Elize doesn't respond. Norma chides Raven because whatever happened might be hard for her to talk about, and Raven shuts up again.

When Norma asks again, the girl says that since she couldn't go home, she stayed in the city. She remembers feeling overwhelmed, but nothing after that is clear. Raven informs her that she collapsed right in front of him. He uses her noncommittal affirmative as proof that what he told Norma was true, though Norma remains unconvinced. In any case, she doesn't think the girl is lying.

She then asks for the girl's name. She introduces herself as Elize Lutus, and her friend is Teepo. Norma immediately calls them Lil E and Teepon, and Raven explains that she gives nicknames to everyone she meets.

Raven asks Elize what she wants to do now, but Norma stops him and scolds him for letting Elize stay in her soaking wet clothes for so long. Even though he couldn’t change them himself, he could have called her for help. She decides they need to get Elize's clothes fixed up first, and they can talk after.

She shoos Raven out, and then suggests that he might as well go get them something to eat. Elize must be starving, and also, she is too. Raven suspects that's her real motivation, but he grudgingly goes. Watching them, Elize and Teepo comment that they seem like nice people.

Some time later, Norma gives Elize her dried out clothes back and asks how she's feeling. Elize says she’s much better, and she's sorry for making them feed her and everything. Norma doesn't want her to worry about it; of course she would help someone in need. (Even though Raven was the one who bought the food, he mutters.)

Norma then asks what she's going to do now. Elize wants to go back to her hometown, the city of Almeria. But that's pretty far away, and Raven has heard that recently monsters have been appearing on the roads between towns, so it’s too dangerous for Elize, even with Teepo.

Nevertheless, Elize doesn't want to stay in the city. Raven then slyly suggests that it would be another story if she had an escort, and Norma praises him for having a good idea for once. This is exactly the kind of thing their business is for, after all.

They explain to a confused Elize that they'll go with her. They can't just kick her out and leave her by herself. When Elize confesses that she has no money to pay them, Norma just says they couldn't possibly take anything from her. (They can always bill the household instead! Raven tells her not to act like it's free, then.)

Norma wants to leave right away, until Teepo complains that she's being kind of pushy. She amends that they'll leave once Elize is ready. Elize says she's fine; she wants to hurry, if they can. With everything decided, they head out.

Raven lingers behind, wondering what they'll find.

#tales of asteria #raven (tov)#elize lutus #norma beatty #translations #still don't know how to tag the white lions

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