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ouiouimochi · 3 months ago

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Rayne, Rayne (Part 2)

Part 1

pairing/s: rayne ames x f!reader, rayne ames x you

genre: childhood friends, self-sacrificing mc, hurt/comfort, resolved misunderstanding, fluff (yay)

wc: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of injuries, violence, human experiments, swearing. there's elements of comedy I think, it's half unserious I'm sorry, semi proof-read

taglist: @kaoiyeva @judithregulus @ctmaw

here's the long awaited part 2, thank you for your patience <33

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

In the meeting room of the Bureau, the Divine Visionaries gathered to discuss Rayne's report on the mission as the said male had just been dismissed to go rest.

“A failed first mission for a Divine Visionary, a reconnaissance at that.” Orter pushed up his glasses as he evaluated the report.

“Failed reconnaissance it may be, all the pertinent information had been gathered for us to finally make a move against the organization. They're using live human test subjects.” Sophina argued, although agreeing that it could've been handled a bit more cleanly.

“I'd say they did more than expected… We also managed to retrieve useful intel. Not only that, they single handedly managed to wipe out their security— elite ones included— as well as handled the executive mostly involved in the suspicious activities. It's quite a surprise to have discovered that the executive used an illegal magic booster, though.“ Kaldo analyzed the results of the mission.

The Light Cane laughed boisterously, before snapping his finger.

“To think young students like them were able to handle the enemies like that before the brilliant me could've arrived to handle it all! Impressive, I must say!” Ryoh approved.

Everyone else followed through after hearing Ryoh’s thoughts. It was due to the blond’s description of the organization as he arrived— it was just more than a mess with unconscious bodies endlessly littering the hallways. He also noted how he did catch the other executives fleeing but unable to locate the head perpetrator. So color him surprised when he discovered said missing perpetrator dealt with and a hauntingly huge rift on the ground being left behind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°

The medical bay of the Bureau was only filled with the sounds of gentle breathing coming from the lone patient resting on one of its hospital beds. Rayne walked in, seating himself on a chair beside the bed.

The male sighed as he observed how peacefully you were breathing as if you didn't exhaust yourself to unconsciousness in his first mission. You definitely gave him something to worry about when you immediately passed out after casting one last support spell on him that ended up turning the tide into his favor.

He wondered how much magic you poured into him that it was just enough for him to activate his Thirds and swiftly defeat that executive— leaving behind a big crater in the process that it was a surprise that the whole building didn't collapse.

The honey eyed male wondered what goes through your brain as you always seemed to follow him around despite his cold demeanor. How you stuck around despite never outwardly acknowledging your presence nor help.

Again, he wondered how much would you be willing to sacrifice for him— just as you always seemed to do ever since meeting him again in Easton. You were so much as ready to let him leave you behind, after all.

He can't help but think you were a huge help as well as a huge headache.

The half blond massaged his temple, having found himself to be slightly angry at your self-sacrificing attitude.

He stops.

He stops to think as to why he'd be angry… to why he cares about your well-being… since when have you managed to worm yourself to a soft spot amidst the steel walls he built up— the same walls that kept away Finn in hopes to protect him.

Just how? It was unfathomable for him. For the first time, he outwardly expressed an emotion on his face.

You stirred in your bed, slowly becoming conscious— registering your surroundings at your own pace.

The smell of antiseptics and medical herbs greeted your senses first. The feeling of the soft blanket that covered you was next. Lastly, your eyes were greeted by an angry Rayne.

You blinked away the dots that slip into your vision— ‘Wait.’ a pause.

You bolted right up and looked at the figure seated on a chair beside your hospital bed. You then held your head as you got slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. Groaning when the ache in your bones finally registered as well.

It was silent. You looked up and confirmed that it was Rayne who was indeed seated there. And he wore an expression of concern.

Well… there wasn't much of a change in his stoic expression from another's perspective. Rather, you noticed the way his eyebrows shift and eyes widen from their previous positions of furrowed and narrowed. To be fair, they were minimal changes that only you can notice at a glance…

The silence hanging in the air was awkward as you two inadvertently engaged in a staring contest.

You broke that silence with an equally awkward, “Hi…?”, you were just hella confused why the dual-colored haired male was angry at you the moment you awoke.

You don't think you've ever seen him this expressive since you reunited with him back in middle school. You panicked and got more confused as his eyebrows twitch further down just by a really barely noticeable bit. You're actually starting to get nervous now.

“Why.” he spoke suddenly— you're just in a spiral of confusion at this point.

“Why… what…?” you respond back with a slight head tilt, absolutely clueless.

“Why would you do that?”

“What exactly????”

Rayne was absolutely getting annoyed at how clueless you were, he sighs before proceeding with what he's gonna say.

“Why were you so willing to just sacrifice your life like that?” He spoke up, eyes fiercely looking into your own. You were astounded, about to respond back, but interrupted by your childhood friend.

“Why do you just… Do all these things for me?”

He never broke eye contact.

“Why… do you accompany me in my tasks, help me out in Fortune Telling class… Why do you even follow me around even though I push you away?”

“Just why… even after all these years… why would you get close?” He ended.

A silence passes over… each second passing by causing Rayne to regret— to think he might've talked too much.

You looked down on your hands that you unconsciously curled together on your lap during the golden-eyed male’s interrogation. Looking solemn, before speaking up.

“It's just… to make it up to you, I guess…”

“You know since you and Finn suddenly disappeared… I've been wondering to myself if I was being too mean… Maybe that one little stupid ‘rayne, rayne, go away’ song I continuously sang might've just actually been the last straw and you left…” You admit…

Rayne was gaping at you—not in the open mouth flabbergasted expression, but gaping as just blankly staring— although you didn't notice it as you continued.

You laugh slightly, although it lacks humor in it. “As I grew up, I had to think back that maybe it was childish to think that was the reason you two left… But I just started thinking more… of how I should have treated you at least a little bit kinder as kids… Given that you and Finn were the only ones who stuck around with my mean self…” You twiddled with your thumbs.

“I changed myself for the better I guess… even my mother was surprised when I told her I wanted to study some subjects at that age..”

“So yeah… I guess it was just pure fate that I managed to meet you again— I felt that I just had to make it up to you…” You look up to the male to gauge his reaction, only to be met with him holding his face in his left hand while the other rests on his hip.

Rayne was absolutely…so dumbfounded that he had to ground himself back to reality by letting things process. He breathed to himself as he pieces together what you told him.

‘So all that kindness and sacrifice despite my treatment… ‘ He started… Rayne Ames was known to be a brilliant character, only having to learn of one thing to know of ten others.

But this took him quite a while to piece together and rationalize.

‘Just to apologize for her childish teasing that doesn't hold much weight to me at all’ If he could facepalm, he would have, but his face was in his hand already.

It's a whole buck wheat of a fucking misunderstanding just because he disappeared after circumstances completely unrelated to the reason you just said.

He can't find himself to be mad at you, not after you basically just… poured your heart out to him— showing your vulnerability… even though your main motivation to help him was… due to a misunderstanding.

This man's smart brain just cannot— absolutely blanks.

Congratulations, you've managed to break THE Rayne Ames.

The half blond inhales deeply, before removing his face from his hand.

“(Y/n). “ He so seriously calls your name after a while.

“...yes?” You respond.

"You're telling me that you stayed despite my constant effort to push you away…” he pauses, having to think about how to word it properly.

"...because you believed that it was your fault that we suddenly disappeared years ago and you felt guilty about it?”

You were worried about how he was reacting.

“...yes…?” You can't understand where he was directing the conversation.

He just looks at you dead in the eye, not knowing what else to say.

Rayne trusted your intellect in multiple things— above the average person’s, even. But this was just… he doesn't know how to bring it up to you since you've been sincere in your actions— he doesn't want to be mean about it.

You just continue to look at him, clueless. That actually sends something to wash over him— similar to the urge he gets when taking care of his rabbits. The feeling of protectiveness and caution from accidentally hurting something cute.

So admittedly, the honey eyed male might've found you cute… especially with how you were focusing on his reaction anxiously.

So he steeled himself to bring his chair closer to your bed, leaning forward with his arms on his knees to be closer to your eye-level.

“(Y/n).” He called your name again— he wondered when he started calling you by your name again, actually. Was it during your third year in middle school? He just noticed.

He actually didn't know where to start, but he had to start somewhere. A silence filled in the pause, you were still anticipating what he was gonna say.

“...Finn and I left due to… certain circumstances…” Rayne finally got out, not going into further detail of said circumstances.

“And we never once thought you were mean when we were kids…”

You blink. Letting the words sink in as you piece together everything else— something finally clicking in that pretty little head of yours.

“Oh.” Was all you can say as you felt the world— your world— stop and crumble.

An existential crisis turns into existential crises.

The monologue about what you strived to be, what you pushed yourself to avoid being… due to a childhood guilt that hung heavy in your heart— and it turns out that it wasn't even the cause of the Ames’ sudden disappearance.

An absolute overshot into outer dimensions. You felt stupid.

You wanted to smack yourself, chuck yourself out the window, have the ground eat you up alive, anything. Just to get out of this very embarrassing situation.

You felt so utterly hot.

Rayne has been observing you all this time, growing more and more concerned due to your reactions— he feels bad that he had to tell it to you.

The honey eyed male may not be the best when it comes to emotions, but he can imagine how it'd be like to have a motivation to strive for something for a long time… only for that motivation to turn out to be misdirected.

You unceremoniously fall back onto the bed, not caring about how you were basically recovering from a back injury. Your companion undoubtedly worried about you.

You then wordlessly wrap yourself up in the blanket despite how hot your face felt. You heard Rayne call your name but you quietly asked him to leave for now.

He does so obediently. The moment he closed the door behind him, he heard muffled screaming.

•°•°•°•°•°•°

The door opens and you think it was the doctor or nurse, but it was Rayne. He wordlessly walks to the chair and seats himself again before carefully placing a wrapped up food box on your lap.

You were going to tell him to go away, but it was interrupted by an audible growl of your stomach— so you just had to accept the food.

You took a bite of the food, relief flooding your system. You continuously eat, actually enjoying the food the half blond brought you.

Speaking of which, you can feel his gaze on you the entire time, awfully sensitively aware of his every movement. He blinked, and you gave in. You turned to him suddenly, breaking the silence first.

“Pretend I didn't say anything earlier…” Your ears turned red at the memory— the embarrassment. So you took another bite of food.

Rayne sighed before speaking.

“If that's what you want.” He sincerely respects your request and you can't help but internally thank him for that.

It might take you a bit to get over the existential crisis but that'll probably be a problem for another time as you allow yourself to be comfortable with the silence now.

Then you got curious.

“So what happened after I blacked out?” Another bite of food.

And so Rayne narrated the events that happened right after you became incapacitated. You learned that the vial that rolled away from the executive contained some sort of magic booster— that explained why the guy was able to stand up and fight again.

You chew some more, listening to the golden eyed male.

“You were able to use your Thirds? How much magic did you even have to do that— heck you had a third line???” you asked, slightly miffed at him.

He shook his head only slightly.

“The spell you casted on me was just enough for me to do a summon. I hid my third line for valid reasons.”

“Fair enough.” You swallowed the last bit of food, fixing the box before putting it aside. You were glad that the last resort spell actually helped a lot.

“Mr. Grantz took a while to meet us since he came across the other executives that fled. He didn't question anything much when he arrived though.” He concluded his story.

“Hmm, is it a mission failure or success? The Bureau had been keeping its eyes on that specific organization after all for suspicious activities…But then again it was only supposed to be recon….” You wondered.

You sighed, remembering how you two got detected and discovered despite your spell and the provided cloaks.

“We wouldn't have been discovered if my stealth spell wasn't imperfect…”

“Stop blaming yourself already.” Rayne speaks up as he takes away the food box and puts it on top of the bedside table.

“The executive was wearing an artifact stolen from the Magical Tools Department that allowed him to detect anything within a certain distance.”

Although he didn't outright say there was nothing wrong with your spell, you felt reassured.

You also realized that this is basically the longest conversation you two held ever since reuniting— somehow makes you nostalgic of how you yapped to him while he talked with you when you were children.

This was Rayne letting you back in through an open door, and you willingly walked inside.

This felt nice.

•°•°•°•°•°•°

“So you're telling me you're not fully ignoring Finn… just making it look like it so that nobody targets him when you reach the top?” You incredulously asked him.

He directed his gaze to you, confirming your question.

So ever since the medbay incident, Rayne had been treating you less coldly now. If anything, we can say that he'd fully let you in. He even let you know about his pet rabbits— which you obsessed over with how cute they were.

You were currently eating lunch with him in the Adler Prefect office— you're unsure why the school decided to add more duties on top of his Divine Visionary ones the moment you two became third years. You had to interrogate him when you remember about Finn moving up to his first year in the highschool department.

“I cover all his school needs and allowances.” He countered.

“Does he know?” He remained silent, causing you to become exasperated.

“Rayne,” you looked at him, “you should seriously talk with him. The poor kid was bullied in middle school and had no one to go to. He turns to me, but I can tell he's hiding some things too.”

He stood his ground on maintaining his distance from his little brother.

You groaned at that.

“You're so intolerable.” The honey eyed male then looks at you with interest.

“You can understand the word now, huh?” Rayne was hinting at something— you realized it was something from your childhood when he insulted you with that but you couldn't understand it anyways.

The male knows how to tease people, apparently— or maybe it was just you… or maybe he learned a few things from you.

You facepalm “Fine, guess I'll continue looking after your younger brother then.” You sighed out.

•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were looking after Rayne's rabbits since he was too busy to do so, and so was his roommate who was apparently the one who suggested rabbit breeding to him in the first place. You gotta wonder how he managed to rope the older Ames into doing it though.

You felt a weight suddenly settle itself on your lap, slightly surprising you before calming down when you noticed it was just a rabbit.

“Usao,” the name of the rabbit, you pat its soft fur carefully as you lightheartedly scold it, “you shouldn't do that so suddenly.”

Nonetheless the affectionate rabbit nestled itself further into your touch as the others also seemed to get the same idea of surrounding you to get the same treatment while staying seated on the soft carpeted floor of the room.

‘The carpet's so soft— most likely for the bunnies to sleep on. ‘

You laughed lightly, bringing out a package of carrot sticks you personally cut earlier to feed the rabbits.

You checked the thermometer mounted on the wall to make sure the temperature was just right. Rayne was pretty particular about his rabbits’ environment and conditions. It was something you found endearing, in a way.

Who knew the cold and stoic Sword Cane was an absolutely rabbit obsessed man? You found it funny how even his comforter and bed sheets were rabbit themed. At least you'd know what to give him for his birthday or the holidays.

You shook away the thoughts, focusing on taking care of his rabbits. The door of the dorm room opened and you turned your head, not expecting anyone else to come in since you were pretty sure Rayne was still out.

‘Maybe he had to get something?’

So a figure emerged and it wasn't Rayne. You and the unknown person froze up upon seeing each other.

The brunette slowly brings his hands up in the air as you quickly point your wand towards him— when and where you pulled it out of, that's a question for another time.

The male was surprised to find someone in his dorm room. What colored him even more surprised was that it was a girl in the men’s dorm.

He racked his brain to try and remember if Rayne said anything about someone else being in the room. Something clicks in his brain.

“Uh… are you the person Rayne mentioned to be the rabbits’ caretaker today…?” He asks, you slightly lower your wand, not fully letting down your guard as the brunette sweats more.

He points to himself, “I'm Max Land, his roommate.”

“Oh.” It clicks, right this is a shared dorm room. You completely lower your wand and tuck it away, careful in not disturbing the rabbits huddled all around you.

“(Y/n) (L/n)... err nice to meet you?” You introduced yourself a bit awkwardly since you kind of just… threatened the poor guy.

Thankfully, the male just laughs, finding the situation a bit funny.

“Nice to meet you. I apologize for interrupting your caretaking time, I just forgot my textbook for my next class.” And so you allowed him to get his things while you wonder why in all your years in Easton, have you never met this guy despite being Rayne’s roommate for all these years too.

“How come we’ve never met each other before despite knowing Rayne for a long time?” You voiced out as the other male paused on his way out.

Max thought about it and you were right. You two shared a look.

Then something clicks in his brain as he brings a fist down into his palm.

“Oh! I think he's mentioned you a few times. Were you the one who helped him out lots of times because you—” The brunette cuts himself off, remembering Rayne’s words about not letting you know that the half blond told him about your… motivations of helping him. The honey eyed male was only asking advice from him on how to make it up to you since he felt bad about it. Rayne probably didn't even mean to expose you since he needed to provide Max with context at least.

He laughs it off, looking at his wrist. “Oh, look at the time! I believe I have to go… Goodluck taking care of the rabbits!” and he disappears.

You raise an eyebrow… He didn't even have a watch on…

More importantly— Rayne definitely told Max about what happened in the medbay. Your eyebrow twitches…

‘I’d have to talk to Rayne later…’

•°•°•°•°•°•°

Rayne comes back to his dorm around sundown— a bit earlier than planned since he managed to finish his business quicker. He opened the door and immediately checked the thermometer on the wall, seeing that it was at the right temperature.

The half blond slipped off his robe as his eyes quickly scanned the room for his pets— finding them huddled in a pile on the carpeted floor. So he trudged over carefully in his socks, having removed his shoes before stepping on the soft carpet.

‘Did she go to the bathroom?’ he thought to himself when he found you nowhere in sight.

He then realizes that his rabbits wouldn't make that big of a pile even if they all huddled up together. The honey eyed male gently picks up Usatarou, confused as to why the bunny wasn't in his favorite spot at the corner of the room.

Rayne looked down again and his eyes were met with the sleeping figure of you cuddling with all his rabbits while holding Usao in your arms.

An arrow shoots through his heart at the sight.

He pulled out a magical tool from nowhere and snapped a photo.

Click!

You stirred in your sleep. The magical vintage camera had defaulted into using a flash.

The half blond was quick to tuck the device away as you started becoming more conscious.

The room was slightly dark as stray rays of sunlight peeked through the window as it sunk into the horizon. It casted more of a golden tinge in the surroundings.

You squint your eyes as it immediately darted to the figure standing near you. You sat up as the rabbits near your head hopped a little bit away but kept close proximity with you.

“Rayne?” You rubbed your eyes, thinking the golden sun rays were creating a hallucination of some sort.

You blinked and he was still there.

“You came back quite early.” You noted as he only nodded and sat himself beside you. Some of his bunnies immediately flocking to him for affection to which he gave them.

You observed him, the usual cold and stoic demeanor he carries himself as basically melting away as an air of softness surrounded him. You stared and unconsciously smiled at the way he caressed his rabbits with care— a barely noticeable twitch of his lips settling on his features.

‘He looks so… pretty—’

You had to snap out of it— he was your childhood friend nothing more, nothing less. You ears were basically tinged with red.

You shook your head and caught Rayne’s attention. The look in his eyes asking if anything was wrong.

You waved your hands around, “Ah it's nothing! Just an unnecessary thought.” You tried to smile it off.

His honey eyes scan your features, noticing how your ears were slightly tinted. But he made no mention of it as he allows himself to completely lay down on the carpet.

“Whatever you say.” He said, mentally wondering if what you were thinking had something to do with what he was thinking. He closed his eyes.

Until he felt your finger prod at his cheek. The half blond opens his eyes only to be greeted by you overshadowing him from above with narrowed eyes. You were slightly pouting too.

Not gonna lie, he thought you were adorable but he won't admit that.

“So how did your roommate ever know about ‘that’?” you asked passive-aggresively.

He just continues to stare into your eyes, unblinking. A mini staring contest.

Rayne sighs as he folds— knowing it was him who was at fault anyways. He was not one to run away from responsibility either.

“He doesn't know the whole thing…” he started, formulating the correct wording, “but I had to provide him with some context so he can provide me advice.” The male explained.

You retract your finger from his cheek, pausing.

‘Rayne? Asking for advice? Now that's something.’

You thought of how considerate it was of him to ask for advice on how to handle you after ‘the reveal’. You always knew your childhood friend was a little bit lacking in the field of socializing and related gestures despite being so strong.

‘Kind of explains how he treats me more warmly now…’ you noted mentally.

You sighed, unable to be mad at him when it allowed for the two of you to get even closer. You then plop yourself beside him, his rabbits now surrounding you both.

“He better be the only and last person.” You grumbled a bit, basically letting him off the hook this time. The dual-colored haired male nods his head as he maintained eye contact.

You then stare up into the ceiling, noticing how the room was slowly turning dark as the sun disappeared further into the horizons.

“So what was the mission this time?” You asked, falling straight back into the habit of asking about his day.

A comfortable atmosphere curtains over you both the same way the darkness did— you two paying no mind to the creeping shadows while you two chattered away.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

BONUS:

Max Land comes back to the dorm room, hoping to apologize to Rayne for almost exposing what the dual-colored haired male told him not to. He steeled himself before opening the shared dorm room.

He was greeted by darkness.

‘Maybe he's not back yet?’

The brunette turned on the light, his eyes immediately darting to the carpeted floor. There laid his roommate’s bunnies.

As well as the peaceful and slumbering forms of you and Rayne.

Max gapes in surprise, putting up a hand to his face to cover his mouth. He stalks closer very carefully before taking a picture.

He internally screams at how he saw this coming even before he met you. His roommate may rarely talk about you, but the change in his expression as he did so didn't escape his keen eye.

‘Now it's just a waiting game of who does the first move.’

bonus art bc of how long I kept y'all waiting

just to be clear, y'all are free to imagine what and how you look like ^^ just wanted to put in the reader/mc so it's easier for me to draw :>

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

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insightfulllama · 1 year ago

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ANYWAY HERE’S A MASSIVE LIST OF OBSERVATIONS AND THOUGHTS FROM REWATCHING THE CABIN VOD AHAHAHAHA

(Spoilers)

The first thing Ranboo clearly says is, “It wasn’t supposed to…be like this…” They are very disoriented and confused, verging on distress.

When the mask turns on, they panic and yell “no” several times, before standing and going, “Where am I?” and “This place sure looks weird!” in the NPC voice. I believe he knew something was wrong and was able to scream, but not anything more before they took full control.

The NPC behavior isn't as obvious as it is in "Warehouse", but I definitely see it now that I'm looking for it. Pretty unsettling.

Ranboo checks locations they had already looked at before the mask turned on. (The door, the bookshelf, the ashes, etc)

Ranboo can see us, but with the masks influence we appear as a “weird painting”.

When he is flipping through the magazines and waiting for chat to decide where they go, he says, “These are just old pajamas.” I think that’s what they say, I have no idea what it means.

When Ranboo first goes to look at the window, he bends out of frame and messes with something (I think the VHS’s) and says, “Those don’t seem too important.” Pretty interesting considering he later uses a VHS to communicate with the one trying to get him out. (Showfalls influence?)

He’s complained about his head hurting twice now, I think this may become a pattern

They find a set of teeth in the drawer

The red key is IN the red bat- mirroring how the key is in Slimecicle later? Did he have to dig into a dead animal to get it here as well and we just didn’t see it because of the mask?

Ranboo’s spacial awareness seems impaired. He doesn’t know where Slime went because he can’t directly see him. This happens again later with Sneeg, Ranboo looking the entirely wrong way when Sneeg calls out. Both Slime and Sneeg call attention to this- “It’s a house, there’s door frames! How did you get inside if you do not know what a door is?” and “How do you not hear me?...How did you look over there, man?”

JUST realized the key colors match the “characters” we’ve been introduced to. (The Savior, The Taken, The Villain) I don’t know if there’s further symbolism connected to where the keys are found and stuff but it’s pretty neat.

When Slime does the pinkie swear promising that Ranboo can leave after he does the cooking challenge, they have their fingers crossed behind their back.

Slimy Guts is one of the available ingredients, bit sus considering our new knowledge. Also chinese leftovers got 0% of the votes LOL

The random cutaways are kinda strange. Don’t know what to make of them.

Ranboo uses a pretty big knife to open a little package of slime, is instructed to “beat up” the food and call it names, and later he offers to cut Slime off the floor when he gets stuck. I think there’s a good chance ranboo stabbed someone and made a meal with their guts. Or something in that vein. (Several times Ranboo points out that these aren’t REAL ingredients and he doesn’t know how someone could eat it. What’s happening is probably so horrifying that he can’t imagine it as something normal like chicken, so his brain is substituting with stuff that’s weird but TECHNICALLY not morally reprehensible.)

Fridge says “BEHIND YOU” on it

Gummy worm was in the freezer, body parts can be kept in freezers, idk

Someone really likes mayo, cause they stopped it when it was on the turntable and gave the camera a thumbs up

Slime tries the meal but he’s really reluctant and needs specific circumstances to do it. If the theory of the meal being human guts it true, the hesitation probably didn’t have anything to do with airplane noises…

What is in the backgrounds of these cutaways? It’s so blurry idk, I can’t tell. It’s sort of purply.

The dish in the end turns to slime with all the possible ingredients mixed in, even the ones we didn’t pick. In universe it reinforces that our choices don’t really matter, from a meta perspective it’s probably so they only had to make one slime prop.

The timing of the marshmallow string stretching as slime tries to feed ranboo is HYSTERICAL, golden comedic timing

The mask starts blinking when ranboo gets the tape message.

The person on tape instructs Ranboo “not to resist”. I believe this is said in the second message as well. Perhaps they don’t want Ranboo drawing attention to themself

Like in the room they woke up in, Ranboo checks areas multiple times, seemingly with no memory of the first time he checks. He does the exact same “flashlight in the eyes” gag each time he picks it up. It really enforces that in this moment he is a puppet, not making his own choices.

“What’s over here?” NPC!Ranboo back in full swing with this dialogue.

Ranboo did the cooking game, Sneeg didn’t. Sneeg refused to kill? Maybe cause he didn’t have a mask? Hmmm idk

The baby skull on a background shelf has a MASSIVE forehead

Light starts flickering when slime appears

What does the fight between evil sneeg and ranboo mean? Maybe they were both trapped and had a fight?? What does it mean without the obscuring mask?

Ranboo is able to get sneeg out of slimes influence, and sneeg says a few times afterward that he’s immune now. Ranboo can help people get out of Showfalls influence? (The gooey hat does bring Sneeg out of the influence later, extension of that Ranboo effect?)

When Sneeg looks to see if Slime is in the box, there is a “shhhh” sound effect

Sneeg says Frank is his eyes and ears- was Frank a whistleblower, feeding information about Showfall to the outside? Unsure

Goo chest- possibly full of human bits? Corpse in a trunk is a pretty common trope

Jello on the shelves of Slime’s room

Same picture that was on the fridge is in a frame on the table

Ranboo looks at the mirror the same way twice, reinforcing the NPC vibes

Another false choice- the story only progresses if you go to sleep. Talking to Sneeg only gets some more NPC dialogue. Most of sneeg’s other dialogue sounds genuine, so this is strange.

Sneeg seems unable to move or act while ranboo is asleep

Could the eight hours that passed be literal? If things are obstructed by the mask it very well could be

“You would have known had you been awake!” Before the reveal of the mask making things look different I thought the streams were going to be revealed to be a dream. Clearly it’s not entirely a dream, but this dialogue is still fun.

SHARK PICKLE LOBSTER TIME!! What would this be in real life? An actual human experiment? Security dogs? Full on hallucination?

This is a pretty funny way to promote the merch honestly lol (referring to ranboo using his merch to trick the thing into cage)

Ranboo seems baffled by his idle fighting animation for a second. He says, “Why am I just standing here? What’s going…” and when the camera pulls back the mask is flickering.

When Slime sends his ghouls to grab Ranboo I believe he tries to move out of the way. They kind of jerk a bit, like they're trying to move their feet, before saying, “Why can’t I just- get out of here? I just need to get out of here-” The mask is once again flickering during this

After the fight the mask starts flickering a LOT, plus the other lights in the cabin. Tv comes back on.

The TV man is named Hetch? He says, “My name is-” I think he says Hetch? Unsure

Mans gets drugged up at the end, rip

#I was thrown off and not really vibing with genloss cause i went in expecting horror from the start #but now the reveal has happened and my brain is INFECTED with OBSESSION WORMS #generation loss #genlosscabin #generation loss cabin #generation loss warehouse #genlosswarehouse #genloss spoilers #generation loss spoilers #crying and shaking over sneeg actually #ranboo says the ending has the option of being sort of happy please i am BEGGING ya'll to choose good options #might do another of these tomorrow for now i must sleep #I've stayed up way too late already

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princesssmars · 1 year ago

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Hiiii! If you don’t mind could you please do a Sam carpenter x fem/gn!reader, where the reader is just like completely overstimulated and someone from the friend group does something that just makes the reader like get super upset and makes them walk away and sam is kinda confused and goes to asks the reader and comforts them and stuff? If not then that’s okay!

trust me

a sam carpenter x reader

wc : 1533

cw : fluff. angst. reader is stressed. conflict caused by mindy but its justified so don't think i don't love her! italic bit thats readers thoughts. ethan slander fuck that little worm. (f/t) means fave takeout!

an : couldnt think of a title nahh 💀but thank you for the request im happy to do it! i hope you like this even if it might be a bit rushed bc i wanna help add to the sam tag since im obsessed with her rn.

when you first moved to new york city it was a whirlwind. new people, new things to see, great food. granted when you got off of your first subway ride a rat tried to fight you over the grinder you had in your hand, but you still loved it.

but of course, everything didn't stay sunshine and rainbows for long. the big apple was expensive, and finding a job that fit your schedule and was able to pay your side of the rent was tough. but you managed. kind of.

your roommate and close friend convinced you to see a therapist she had heard about from a friend, and you decided it couldn't hurt to try. the guy was helpful if a bit annoying, but it was worth it when you saw her coming out of her session. now NYC was filled with a plethora of hot people, but you swear when she made eye contact with you and gave you a polite smile you felt your brain melting.

you saw her a few more times before you introduced yourself. she seemed wary but told you about herself as well, telling you her name was sam and that she had moved to new york not long ago as well with her sister for college. she seemed nervous, but you were a stranger so you chalked it off as anxiety.

you asked her for her number and did a small mental celebration when she said yes, deciding to text her the next afternoon to not seem too desperate.

luckily your efforts paid off! she was a bit distant the first few times you talked, but after inviting her out for lunch at some new restaurant in brooklyn she warmed up to you quickly, even enough to introduce you to her sister and her friends.

it was only after a few weeks of knowing her that you found out what happened in woodsboro. you had an inkling that something bad had happened, the way sam was hesitant with phsyical affection, the caution they all took when locking their doors and carrying mace and tasers with them to get groceries. when sam had let you in to what happened with ghostface - her ex - and how he had almost killed all of them. you had let her know it didn't make tou think of her any differently, that you still cared about her and her past wouldn't change that. that moment had led to the first kiss between the two of you.

and you had meant what you said to sam, that you would stick beside her no matter what. but it still took a toll on you, that danger was following you and the people you had grown to care about no magter what.

the one thing you didn't expect was for them to expect the danger could be you.

it was supposed to be a normal friday night at sam's apartment, spent talking to each other and her friends and maybe watching a movie with some takeout after her appointment. nice and simple.

the door opens and you turn to see if it's sam, smiling when tara, chad, mindy and anika walked through the door. chad's roommate. ethan, wasn't with them this time and you let out a small sigh of relief. he seemed nerdy enough

"hey guys, everything alright?" you asked the group, noticing the down and wary looks on their faces. tara mumbled something before quickly walking into her room, chad hot on her heels. anika rested on the couch next to yours with a sigh, mindy sitting next to her and farther away from you. a bit odd, but you chalked it up to all of them being tired from school.

"something happened over at fordham. some girl from blackmore was found almost butchered in an alley." anika wrings hers hands together, a nervous habit she told you she picked up as a kid.

"jesus christ, do they have any clue who might have done it?" you ask.

"oh please, how many freaks do you you think like to nearly carve out peoples chest?" mindy scoffed, busying herself with something on her phone.

"you don't think it's ghostface, do you?" your voice was wavering against your will. after sam had told you what happened you did some digging into the masked killer, and its safe to say you were on edge until it eventually showed its face again.

she shrugged. "we all knew they were gonna find us again eventually. nows just a matter of determining who it is." she looked at you, and you felt the strain behind your eyes at how far they widened.

"i hope you're not saying what i think you're saying..."

"dont take it too personally, y/n. she accused me and ethan too." anika waved your worries off, and even though her normally peaceful personality would calm anyone down, it wasn't really working right now.

"i'm just saying, you're also new to the friend group, coincidentally moved here a while before us and had the same therapist as sam? and then started dating her? it's suspicious." mindy lists off the reasons she suspects you, and with each item you feel your chest tighten.

is this really what they think of me? a threat? does sam think of me like this? does she not trust me? does she not love me?

you don't register the sound of mindy's voice or the sound of the front door opening before you hurry from the couch to the bedroom near the back of the apartment - sam's room.

you sit on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, trying to calm the racing negative thoughts in your head. it feels like hours when its probably been a few minutes of you failing to calm yourself down when the door opens slowly and a weight sits down on the bed next to you.

"is it ok if i touch you?" sam ask from next to you, making sure to keep a good distance so as not to overwhelm you. when you nod and whisper out a yes she moves to sit behind your body, wrapping her arms around you and allowing you to fall back and rest on her chest.

"do you wanna tell me what's going on? it's alright if you dont, i'll still be right here."

her soft tone makes you squint your eyes hard, scared that she's trying to get you to let your guard down. but there's a little voice in your head that trusts her more than anything. that desperately wants to let her in. so you do.

"it's just...mindy was talking about ghostface and she was questioning me. i know that you've all been through so much but...if they can't, if you don't trust me then i don't know what i would do."

sam doesn't interrupt while you speak, fully paying attention to your words as you let her know what's bothering you. you're just about to walk back your statement because of her silence when she softly turns your body to sit sideways in her lap, bringing her hand up to cup your face and turn it so you can't look anywhere but her eyes.

"hey, i want you to listen to me, ok? you know mindy. she's just looking out for us, she didn't mean to antagonize you im sure of it. if anything i'm pretty sure if ghostface comes back she's more likely to suspect ethan right away, the kid weirds her out," she says, unable to help herself from smiling when you giggle at her words.

"but more importantly you know me. you know i'd never have anyone around me, my sister or our friends if i didn't trust them, yeah? i trust you and i love you, more than anything."

you cant help but tear up and smile at her words. sam wasn't one for frequent words of affection, so you knew when she said something she meant it. she lets out a small grunt when you throw yourself into a hug in her arms, tackling the both of you onto the bed in a heap of giggles. you spend the next few minutes laughing and sharing small i love you's and sweet kisses.

after you've both calmed down sam asks if you're ready to head into the living room, squeezing your hand when you give a strained little nod. walking together back to the living room, your face lights up at the smell of your favorite takeout, rushing to the couch to see everyone munching down on some food.

mindy turns her head around to see you and purses her lips awkwardly. "uh, i was hungry so i ordered some (f/t). there's enough for the both of you."

"she's trying to apologize for calling you ghostface." tara butts in while taking another bite of her food, ignoring when mindy slaps her on the leg.

"aww, it's alright cheeks. i understand." you tease the brunette with the silly nickname you gave her a few weeks ago, reaching over to squish her cheeks together like a kid. she sticks her tounge out at you but doesn't move to stop you, figuring she'll let you have this.

"yeah yeah whatever, sit down and eat your food."

you sit on sams' lap on the squished couch, ignoring the kissing noises and fake gagging sounds of your friends. in this moment, nothing anyone says can get to you.

i believe in the lost art of ending the fic with a cheesy bit. happy pride gaybos.

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #scream x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter fluff

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

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Goo Kim x Reader: Silly questions at bedtime

"Goodnight," and you roll over, letting the darkness and silence lull you to sleep.

Not even 30 seconds later-

"Are you asleep yet?" Goo's voice drifts over in his stupid stage whisper when he absolutely wants your attention but still pretends to be considerate.

You give a noncommittal groan even as you feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

"Babe~" he singsongs, sidling behind you, the menace breathing right down your ear.

Goodbye any chance of sleep. "What."

"Does the brain control the body or the body control the brain?"

Your mind takes a second to process that question, and then you find yourself wide awake. "Goo, I swear to god."

"But babe, if you think about it-"

Your fist clenches around your pillow, "No."

"If you think about what an animal does-"

As Goo starts to ramble, you desperately will his voice to wash over you, but you can pick out clearly every word he says, your mind starting to whir at what the fuck he is talking about.

Ugh. You cut him off, having learnt to quickly nip these train of thoughts in the bud sooner rather than later. "This is the would you love me if I was a worm all over again."

"Would you?"

Even with your back to him and in the dark, you can picture his stupid face clear as day. The glint in his eyes, the smug smirk. Same as when he prodded and probed you enough that you finally gave an answer he was satisfied with.

Gritting your teeth, you tell him "Yes, sure, whatever." Again.

Not missing a beat, "What about if I didn't have skin?"

How does he even come up with this. Incredulous, you turn around. "What?"

"My beautiful flawless skin." Goo emphasises this by rubbing himself up against you, "Would you?"

"You'd be dead."

"Would you though?"

"Goo." you shove him off you, "Go to sleep."

"What if I had feet for hands and hands for feet?"

Silence.

"What if I had no arms or legs?"

More silence.

"What if I was Gun?"

Ok. This one you couldn't resist. There'd be hell to pay, but...

"I'd love you MORE!"

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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bow-of-aros · 2 months ago

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Well if I’m Dead, and You’re Dead, Then Who’s Driving the Bus?!

Edwin's been a little tense and Charles offers to help him relax. (No not like that you freaks)

Hey guys! School's started back up and it's kicking my ass a little, so I decided to write a soft moment to comfort myself. And to also ignore the cancellation because that's just upsetting. I hope that y'all enjoy <33

“I swear on my life, I will kill you.”

Edwin’s craning his neck to look up at Charles from where he’s trapped face down on the couch, threatening tone wobbling dangerously as a smile fought against the stern line of Edwin’s lips.

This had started innocuously enough, Edwin had mentioned that he was stressed and Charles offered a solution from when he’d been alive.

“My mum used to do it when I was little and couldn’t fall asleep,” Charles had explained, a bit of red creeping up into his cheeks, “It always helped calm me down when I had lots of energy, so I’m thinking it might do the same for you, yeah?”

It had been offered so earnestly, a fond memory and a chance at relief, all in one.

So, of course, Edwin had complied when Charles had told him to lie down on the couch. Of course he hadn’t asked questions after Charles insisted on it being a surprise. Of course he had allowed Charles to settle himself over Edwin, welcomed it, even, and had subsequently ignored the fluttering of a no longer beating heart at the warmth of his friend.

The featherlight touch on his back had been a surprise, although not an unwelcome one. It was only after a few seconds that Edwin found himself tensing up rather than relaxing. It was only after Charles strayed too close to his side and he flinched away did both of them realized what was happening.

Which leads them back to, “Well, you don’t have a life anymore. Because you’re dead. And you can’t kill me. Because I’m also dead.”

Edwin buries his head back into the sofa, but he can still hear the shit-eating grin that’s surely found its home on Charles’ face.

“So,” Charles continues, “Why don’t you just sit back, relax, and let me work my magic.”

“Charles, I really don’t think that is necessar—ah!”

The deft fingers return to his back, this time with a mission in mind. They swirl across Edwin’s shoulder blades, eliciting breathy titters before skittering down his spine, prompting clearer, more high-pitched giggles.

It was only when Charles reached his lower back that Edwin put more than a half-hearted effort into his struggles.

“Wahahait! Not there! Charles plehehease!”

“I dunno, mate,” Charles said, although he did move, choosing to instead crawl his fingers up the back of Edwin’s ribs, “Seems like it’s doing its job, yeah?”

The question gave Edwin pause, and after a quick catalogue of his physical and mental faculties, he found that he was feeling much more relaxed. The constant push to be doing something has quieted, replaced by a gentle buzz that’s settled itself under his skin.

He just doesn’t have the room in his brain to worry about anything other than the little zaps of electricity thrumming through his veins.

It’s quite nice, actually.

Then, Charles starts making his way back down and all kind thoughts fly out of his brain and are replaced by, “No! Charles! I’m relaxed I prohohomise!”

Charles, in his infinite generosity, releases Edwin from his clutches.

“See? I can already tell that you’re feeling bet—oof.”

Edwin flipped himself over, tugging Charles down on top of him, and settled his chin atop the mess of curls, letting out a bone-deep sigh. He ensures to wind his arms loosely around Charles, so that he may escape if he wishes to do so, but instead, Charles presses his nose into Edwin’s neck in the way he is so fond of, and worms his arms between Edwin and the sofa in order to hold them tight.

In response, Edwin allows his own arms to tighten as the rest of whatever tension he still held seeps into the sofa.

“See? Look at how relaxed you are! Works every time.”

Edwin feels the words more than he hears them and he scoffs lightly, swiping a thumb across the nape of Charles’ neck just to hear the sharp intake of breath that follows.

“Yes Charles, I’ll be sure to remember then when I decide that you need to wind down, shall I?”

Instead of pushing things any further, Edwin begins playing with the short hairs on the back of Charles’ head and smiles fondly as Charles manages to sag into him even more.

A small grumble sounds from Edwin’s chest and he can’t help but laugh.

“I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating yourself while you’re not practically eating my jacket?”

“Ugh,” Charles turns his head as though it carries the weight of a thousand Suns and says, “I said, I’m proper winded down right now, so we don’t need to worry about all that now do we?”

As Charles settles back into whatever configuration he swears is comfortable, Edwin says, “I suppose you’re correct. It’s best we get some rest, we have a long eternity of solving cases ahead of us.”

“Yeah. Resting was my idea.”

“That makes sense, it is rather brills, as you would say.”

Edwin can feel Charles’ smile, and spares a moment to mourn the fact that he cannot see it before appreciating the fact that he had the privilege to draw it out at all.

“Yeah yeah. G’night Eds. Love you.”

“Yes Charles, I love you too.”

It’s alright, Edwin had the rest of forever to see that smile anyway.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #tickle fic #fanfic #tickling #fluff #ticklish edwin payne #i love them #may i offer some comfort in these trying times?#dbda #dbda fanfic

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bruh-anator3000 · 1 year ago

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To Skrill or Not to Skrill

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

A/n:... drag...nn... OKAY look i KNOW i should finish all my Viktor wips, esp The Lab Inspector's Daughter one BUT... um, well, skrunkly priorities have changed. My skrunkly, babygirl, the blorbo, the boi: the most insane viking in the Archieplego. Dagur the Deranged. He hath eaten the Viktor worms and started writhing on my brain himself. The madlad.

I WILL WRITE FOR VIKTOR AGAIN!! DON'T WORRY!! But Dagur wants to be written for first. For now.

Summary: Dagur didn't just... leave you, right? You led him and the Hunters to the exact spot your calculations had said the beast would be. The further you got into the cave, however, the less the others followed. Leaving you completely alone. Well, besides the dragon.

Pairing: Dagur x GN!Reader

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: 'Trapped' in an ice cave, Hypothermia!! Near death experience? Dragons, Stupid Ryker, insert Micheal Scott's 'you've been di-frib-u-lated!,' Derangedness duh, Dagur refers to himself as 'Daddy' and the deadly dragon as 'baby,' accidental Hiccup/Dragon Riders hate (but for good reason in the story i swear), cringe stuttering, possible part 2 👀? (We all know how good I am at that)

MOST IMPORTANTLY: I haven't written for Dagur before so if he seems OOC, that's on me. Please let me know how I can make Dagur seem more like Dagur, i would love some advice on it.

Okay, that should be it! I hope you enjoy <3

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

"He didn't just abandon me," Your shallow breaths turned to frost in front of your face as you continuously bashed the hilt of your sword against the thinning ice. As much as you wanted to believe your words, he did ignore his father when he went missing and simply took control instead.

"I mean, I'm valuable!" You tried to convince yourself as the ice finally gave in with a sharp crack. Your hilt judded through the hole you made, numb fingers nearly dropping your blade. You couldn't feel the lower part of your body, shivering violently as you awkwardly scuffled your sword on the other side of the ice. Making the weapon parallel to the wall, you began to smash the ice from the other side, trying to pull the sword back towards you.

"I found you, after all." You looked up through your lashes, which were slowly weighing down by snow and ice. The dark purple and grey of the Skrill looked down upon you. His breath fogging the wall of ice separating you two.

He watched you, eyes narrowed but curious. From what you could see, most of his limbs were slowly breaking free of the ice he had been banished to. Wings twitching and claws curling. You hit the icy wall once more. You could feel your fingers lock up around the rod of your sword. The joints in your arms stiffening with the cold. As you yanked your arm back once more, the ice broke. Leaving you to fall on your butt.

Laying on the cold stone of rock-hard ice, you sighed. Your breath turning to ice in front of you. Maybe you should've stayed with the Dragon Riders. With another frozen sigh, you knew that would've led to this exact same situation. Well, not exactly the same.

Hiccup left you to boil and burn in a cavern deep inside an active volcano. Dagur left you to freeze up and become an artifact for the next generation to find. You weren't sure what was worse.

However, Dagur had saved you from combusting into a pile of flame and ash. Maybe Hiccup will turn the tide, and find you, trying to free the Skrill he set into ice. For Dagur.

No, he would probably let you freeze over, too.

You tried to pull yourself up to your feet. You only managed to sit up and rest against the wall. Your bones rattled against each other, you could bite your own tongue off with how hard your teeth clattered. Huddling into yourself, you prayed to Odin someone would find you before you froze to death.

Looking over your arms as you held your knees close, you saw the Skrill ram the horn on his nose against the wall he was sealed behind. You shut your eyes, breathing out once more as you felt ice build around your lungs.

...

Dagur stood before the cave, torch high in his hold as he waited. Eyes narrowed, he held the flame to the dark entrance.

"Where's your little friend, Dagur?" Ryker saddled up beside the Berserker with a dark chuckle. "Think the Dragon Riders finally came back for them?"

Dagur scowled. "They wouldn't do that." He stated simply. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He saved you, after all. You wouldn't just turn on him like that... right?

"Then why are my men back but not them?" Ryker watched the viking from the corner of his eye. Dagur was simply too easy to rile up. And he was waiting for the moment he slipped up, so Viggo would finally see how utterly useless he was to their mission.

"Why can't your men find my Skrilly but they can?" Dagur shot back. You had told him the only information you knew about his Skrill was the fact Hiccup had sealed it away into an iceberg. With that, you had managed to pinpoint the beast's exact location. Which none of Ryker's men seemed to even comprehend.

Ryker let out a hard huff. "You have another hour, then we leave," He leaned in close, breath rotting. "With your friend, or not."

Dagur only glared back, eyes burning in the larger viking's skull. How he wanted to bash Ryker's head open. For more than one reason, but the top contender was how he spoke of you. A Dragon Rider turned hunter wasn't a very trustworthy transformation but Dagur liked you.

The vengeance written on your face when he found you, betrayed by his brother. It reminded him of the rage he felt daily for how Hiccup had thrown him into jail for three long years. You said you were a dragon rider and his first instinct was to grab your dragon and run. But you had no dragon, only a shattered sword and the outlines of welts beginning to bubble up from the heat on your skin.

When he asked if you wanted rescuing, throwing on his best smile and pose, you laid back down and accepted your fate. That's when he knew he'd like you. So stubborn, you'd rather melt than let a devilishly handsome Berserker save you. A sense of humor he enjoyed poking at until it turned into slight aggravation.

Now, he was aggravated. The torch felt so... throwable in his clenching fist. It wasn't you... it's just that you weren't here. He needed you here, wanted you standing besides him with his Skrill in tow.

Glancing back, he watched Ryker and his lousy men riffle around. Some were walking circles around the boats. Others shoved each other around, acting like there was nothing wrong. Like this was all a game to them. Ryker may be able to dispose of his men like day old fish, but Dagur wouldn't do that - not to you, at least.

He could throw Savage overboard any day. Throw him as far as he wanted, deep into the vast blue of the ocean. He would laugh, watching him scramble back on board. But he wouldn't throw you over the deck. He's considered it, he won't lie, but he could only ever bring himself to grab the back of your shirt, threateningly.

You'd just laugh. Everytime he would grumble and yank you around by the sleeve or tunic, you would laugh. It was cute. And it was infectious, too. Whatever he was angry at, Dagur would have to let it go and laugh with you.

But now, you weren't here. He wasn't able to laugh his boiling anger off. You were still somewhere in the icy caves. And Ryker wasn't going to be any help. Like always, it looked like Dagur was going to have to do this himself.

He really hoped his Skrill was in there, or else you'd be making him look like a fool. He also really hoped you were still alive. But he also really didn't want to look like a fool.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ryker's grating voice called out, making Dagur's whole body twitch with annoyance. By the Norns, he hated that man's voice, and endless proding!

"Getting my Skrill back!" He shouted over his shoulder. If it weren't for the iron grip he had on his torch, Dagur would've sent it straight through the Dragon Hunter's head, hearing Ryker laugh at him. If only the Skrill could come barreling out of the cavern just then. Like Hiccup and his stupid Night Fury always seemed to do.

The ice cave was just as expected - long, dark, and very cold. Barely five minutes into his search, Dagur started shaking like a fish out of water. Violently trembling from the cold. He debated on turning back. Let go of this Skrill dream entirely, that perhaps it was an unhealthy obsession he developed and would benefit him in letting it go.

The thought made him laugh. Loudly and sporadically, his hysteria bounced off the endless tunnel walls. He giggled to himself when he heard his laugh come back to him. Sounded just as insane as he remembered.

Another sound followed the dying echoes of his laugh. One that sent a full body shiver through the Deranged. That same howl, like a screech of home. A dragon's. His dragon.

Bursting into a full on sprint, Dagur ran down the cave, guffawing with excitement. He's dreamt of this day for years, the situation of reuniting with his dearest Skrill playing over in his head like a bard who only knew how to play one song. He would soon use his beloved beast to destroy little Hiccup in a blast of pure lightning. Another drool-worthy ideal that he never stopped wishing for.

Dagur turned the last twist of the tunnel before the beast of royal purple and toned grey became visible. Wide mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth bared before him. The metallic spiky crown the dragon wore was even more daunting in the unusual lighting of fire reflected against frozen water. A sight so enthralling, Dagur's mind went blank.

Mind flooded with excitement, Dagur broke out into a large smile and simply gawked. The cold didn't exist in this moment as he stared at his precious baby. So giddy that he raised both his hands up with a loud, concerning cry and spun in a circle.

"That's right!" He hollered to no one in particular. "Dagur and Skrilly, reunited once more! Ohohoho!" He laughed with his entire body, moving wildly in his joy.

The ripple of dark scales had Dagur turning back around. The Skrill curled into itself as a bright white hue began to glow from his mouth. Drawing his sword, he held it pointed to the beast.

"It's alright, baby." He tried shushing the Skrill, cooing in his gravelly voice. "Daddy Dagur's here for you."

The Skrill had better ideas. He shot a bolt of lightning barely a foot away from Dagur.

He was about to shout. Ready to lose his temper that his own darling would try to hurt him, but that sharp green gaze caught on something beneath those steely purple legs. A figure lumped under the dragon. It seemed like sweet Skrilly was protecting this nearly dead thing.

As another blast of lightning began to charge in the dragon's mouth, Dagur dropped his stance for a moment. His eyes fell to a sword that was laying far from the other two. The same sword he often sparred with. Grabbed along with his own, to hand to his partner in battle. The same sword he's had to help rewrap over 10 times because, for whatever reason, you couldn't keep the yak leather tight around the hilt.

Your sword.

Wait a second. That's you?

He tried to get a better look but the Skrill opened his mouth even wider, ready to blast again. Thank Odin he was a Berserker. Directing Skrills was in his blood.

Dagur waved his sword back and forth until the Skrill could only focus on it. Making sure those slitted pupils were trained on his blade, he lowered the sword and threw it across the ice. Away from you. Unfortunately, the beast stayed put, but his eyes were trained on the sword Dagur had to sacrifice. Skrill's are painfully loyal to those who treat them well. And saving them from an icy prison would be a perfect reason why the dragon refused to move.

Dagur made a mental note to yell at you for gaining his Skrilly's trust before him. After he saved you, of course.

"Come on, baby, work with me here." Dagur tried to reason as he lowered himself closer to the ground. "They're with me. And you like them, right? So you'll like me, too."

The fire-lightning sparked back up in his mouth the second Dagur tried to take another step. He gritted his teeth, trying to think of another way to get to you. They both looked at the torch he held.

Dagur wasn't about to burn the Skrill but he desperately needed to get to you. You had been in here for hours. How long have you been unconscious for? The next place he might see you is in Valhalla. He really didn't want to risk death in order to see you again.

Waving his torch around like he'd done his sword, Dagur began to walk around his Skrill. Every time the dragon tried to lunge forward, he would jump right back at him. The fire discouraging the Skrill just enough to push him away from you. Only the strong and unbelievably gorgeous wing of him hovered above you. Dagur could work with that.

"Hey, wakey wakey!" Dagur dropped to his knees beside you, his free hand reaching for your wrist. His hands always felt so rough compared to your skin. It made him feel... embarrassed that his hold could grate on yours.

As he ran his hand down your arm, panic started seeping in. You were as cold as the floor beneath the two of you. Your fingers were beginning to turn blue. He couldn't see you breathing, not when you were so curled in on yourself.

"Hey," He set his torch on the ground. He didn't care if it was burning out, he needed you alive. "Stay with me." His voice started to raise in tone as he softly grabbed your shoulders. Rolling you on your back, you moved far too loosely. He could tell you no longer had control of your limbs.

Eyes growing wide, Dagur cupped your face with one of his hands. The apple of your cheeks - where pretty freckles, often paired with a slight red the sun always burned onto your skin - was tinting blue. And so was your precious nose. That wasn't good.

Oh Thor, this wasn't good.

Dagur pressed his ear to your chest, silently begging for a breath. He could settle for a heartbeat, a faint one, even! He just needed to know you were still alive!

His search was interrupted when he was scooped into the air. He scrambled to grab you, holding you close to his chest as he started to raise and slide backwards. Letting out an uneasy laugh, his back hit a rod that winded him.

Keeping his arms tight around your freezing torso, Dagur looked down. Sitting on purple scales against dark spikes, he realized all too late what was happening.

"Easy, dragon!" He pleaded with a yelp. The Skrill roared and stood on his hind legs. He scrambled to seat you in front of him, awkwardly sliding behind your limp self and reaching around to grab the crown of the dragon. His left hand barely gripped onto a spike when the Skrill took off with a gut-deep growl.

Dagur's screams came out like his laughs, sporadic and changing in tone. And frantic. Very- extremely frantic. The light blue colors of ice blurred past him, cold wind whipping through his red hair. Cold quickly shifted into warmer air. Ice no longer surrounding him, turning into the sand of the beach outside.

He could barely make out the shouts of the hunters over his own. His next sight was crashing face first into sand. Tumbling further until he hit one of the ship posts. Taking at least one other man down with him.

"What in Thor's name-?" Ryker ran out from his ship. He was ready to shout and yell at the morons he was given to work with for being so idiotic. His loud voice died deep in his throat when his eyes landed on the beast. He was certain Dagur had gone insane, far more insane than normal when he trusted an ex Dragon Rider to lead him to the rarest dragon besides the Night Fury.

Purple and grey scales glimmered in the sun. Sharp teeth nearly chomping one of his hunters in half for getting too close. Metallic spikes running down the dragon's back. Ryker gawked with a dropped jaw.

"It's the Skrill!" One of the hunters called out. "Chain him!" Some screamed. "Cage him!" Yelled another. But Dagur beat them all.

"No one touches MY Skrill!" He bellowed, running back over to 'his skrill.'

Instead of throwing the nets over the dragon, Ryker watched with a scowl as Dagur skidded to a stop in front of the beast. His eyebrows shot up with surprise as the Berserker pulled you off the Skrill's back. Maybe having a Dragon Rider on the team wasn't such a bad idea.

Or maybe it was, since you flopped over into Dagur's hold like a ragdoll. You didn't ride that dragon! You were simply stuck on its back.

"Come on, please." Dagur set you on the sand gently, keeping your head steady. The words stumbled past his lips before he could reign in his emotions. "I need you." His voice was barely a whisper but it still cracked with pain. He didn't want to lose you. He couldn't.

His hand rested on your chest, still desperate to find a sign of life. Yet again, the Skrill had a better idea and knocked Dagur backwards. Falling on his butt, Dagur wanted to kick the beast in the snout. He was trying to make sure you were alive! What did the dragon think it was doing?!

The sun blacked out as clouds began to accumulate above the docks. The back of the Skrill began to arch, the metal rods on his back starting to vibrate. Bright and blinding, sparking lightning burned in his mouth.

Dagur watched in horror as the Skrill roared. His eyes nearly shot out of his head when the Skrill let his head drop onto your chest. Sending a Thor's worthy amount of electricity right through your body.

Static cracked the air, loud enough to leave everyone's ears ringing. As soon as they appeared, the dark storm clouds dispersed and the Skrill stepped back. Bursts of lightning still danced on the beast, weaving between the tall stakes of metal on his back. He watched you, eyes narrowed, and the tip of his nose brushing up your legs.

A scream of pure rage began to bubble in Dagur's throat. His beast, his Skrill, had just killed you!? Sending a bolt through you and probably charing your body inside and out?! Like yak on a stick!?

The sand crunched in between his fists, arms twitching with restrained anger. His two favorite things combined, resulting in one of them dead. He was going to wear that Skrill's skull as a helmet!

The silent building tension between the hunters, Dagur, and the dragon was interrupted by a violent choke.

You sat up abruptly, gasping and choking on nothing. Your arms locked around your knees, still shivering from the ice you once laid on. Whether you were deep in shock, too literally shocked, or far too cold, you failed to realize that you were out of the cave.

It took Dagur three seconds before he was bolting to your side. He was trying to be gentle, but his desperation seemed to make his movements too rigid. You saw him from the corner of your eye, and in a blind panic, smacked the ever loving Odin out of him.

A gasp went around the surronding hunters as Dagur stood back, still facing the way you hit him with his cheek beginning redden. You blinked a couple of times before letting out a relieved cry and jumped up to hug him.

"By Thor, I thou- thought you ha- ad left m- me!" Your words were skewered by your clattering teeth. He felt far warmer in your hold than you remembered. Not that you were complaining, you simply dug yourself into him even further.

Dagur stood still for a few more moments, emerald eyes glaring at you through the corners. It was then you realized what you had just done. You let your hold on him slip as you stared up at him, trembling from the cold - and new-found fear.

Two steps back was all you made it before Dagur's thick arms caught around you. Pulling you into his chest, he squeezed you tight enough to practically crush you. With this confirmation, you wrapped your own arms around him and sighed shakily.

"I wouldn't have left you." His breath tickled your ear, beard scratching against your cheek as he spoke low enough so only you could hear. He pulled back, and set you in front of him with a firm grip on your shoulders. "Let's get you into warmer clothes, especially out of that armour." He declared with a flick to your bracers.

You glanced down at your outfit. Your arms seemed to only grow colder if you held them around your chestplate. Nodding, you fell into his side. He wrapped an arm over your shoulders and helped you move towards the boats.

A sharp poke hit you in the back, followed by a low growl. Turning around, you saw the beast you had been chasing all week.

"Is th- that the Sk- skrill?" Your eyes went wide as you stared back at the dragon. Dagur nodded.

"He likes you," He pinched your ear lightly, making you pull away slightly. He always loved your little reactions. "You were supposed to just free it, not bond with it." The red head stuck his lower lip out in a pout.

"I fr- reed it-z?" Your tongue stiffened on the last syllable, making it sound like a buzz. He laughed and patted your back, urging you to keep walking.

"Yup. He flew you out here." You looked around with new eyes, the earlier shock beginning to fade.

"We're outside?"

"ENOUGH-" You flinched at Dagur's outburst. He held his other hand out, and took a breath. "Enough questions. Just- back to the boat."

You nodded and accepted his unofficial apology by continuing to lean into him. He was so muscular, it felt like you were walking alongside a tree. A very intimidating, genuine, and passionate tree log. Dagur was far more handsome than a log, too.

Your hazy gaze stared up at him from under his arm. If he could tell you were staring, he didn't show it. He wore his usual smug smirk, a gentle squeeze around you, but nothing more.

"The Skrill comes with us." Dagur held out his hand to the oncoming hunters. They slowed to a stop, green axes and chains in their lowered hands. Sharing a confused look, they turned to Ryker, who finally got off from his post on his ship.

"What makes you think that, exactly?" Ryker asked, eyes falling behind you to the beast.

Dagur hemmed and hawed as he removed his arm from you, guiding you to rest on the Skrill for support. The dragon purred, rough and deep, as you rested your hand on his neck.

"Oh I don't know," Dagur tapped his chin, his other hand counting something on his fingers. "Maybe because, well," He chuckled. "I FOUND IT?!" He shouted in Ryker's face, green eyes bugging out of his head. His nostrils flaring in his face.

Ryker stared down at him with a bored brow. Dagur glared right back, breathing heavily. With a roll of his eyes, Ryker backed up with a raised hand. His men backed off as well.

Dagur turned back to you, nodding to the large boat. He hit Ryker's shoulder as you three passed. The Skrill bared his teeth at the lead Dragon Hunter, sensing the discomfort he was causing. Growl vibrating his throat as you patted the dragon, a gentle reminder that you were fine.

You followed Dagur to the ship with small steps. Your tremors made it hard to stay upright, and the Skrill could only help you so much. Dagur threw his head back with a sigh when he noticed the distance between you two.

He trotted back and pulled you into his side once again, keeping an arm around your shoulders. The Skrill walked along your other side, offering more support, if you needed it. Together, they helped you to the ship and into Dagur's quarters.

#dagur x reader #dagur rtte #dagur the deranged #the skrill #httyd rtte #dragons #httyd fanfiction #dagur fanfic #bruhwrites

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dw-writes · 1 year ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Angry - Miguel O'Hara x Anti Hero!Reader

So. This isnt planned to be a fic - in fact Im writing it on my phone (which is something I NEVER do). But the idea came to me today and its itching the inside of my skull so I decided to write it down. Its silly - just an thought experiment to get the Across the Spiderverse brain worms out.

This isnt intended to be a romantic fic, either. At the point of writing this author blurb, i dont even know how Miguel fits into it beyond the main idea of him being venomous.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think

This isnt edited, and was typed out pretty quickly on a phone. I apologize ;;

WARNINGS: Swearing; Violence

"I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here." The bank robber - his name was Ryan, you remembered, and he was a pretty decent guy, just down on his luck too many times - nodded and mumbled behind the collect of irridecent that coated his mouth. You propped your foot on the side of another robber - Julian, Julius, Juli-something, he never really talked that much to you - as he tried to squirm towards his fallen weapon. "It's weird, right?" you mused, "One day, I'm the Black Cat, Nueva York's greatest burglar, the next I'm--" you cut yourself off as you hooked a foot around Juli-such-and-such's hip and tossed him across the bank floor. He released a muffled shout.

"Okay, so, what do you think of Moon Weaver?" you asked, "Too much?"

"Ain't there a Moon Knight?" someone in the bank quipped.

You twisted around, snapping your fingers down on your new, and very much stolen, web shooter. The man crumbled back against a cabinet. He was a banker, and annoying during robberies.

"I didn't ask you? I still don't know if you're gonna be saved by me yet," you replied. You turned back to Ryan. "No Moon Weaver?" you asked.

He shook his head.

"Damn," you sighed, "Anyway, I was telling this to my therapist up on the seventh floor - you should see her by the way, she's great - and we were going over how this started, but since you so rudely interrupted my therapy session, you get to hear it." You crouched in front of him. "Don't worry, you're not gonna remember a thing anyway. I'll make sure of it."

Ryan didn't reply.

You stood back up. "So, let's start at the beginning." You waved your hand as you paced away to another bank robber, kneeling to scoop up his limp ankle. "Remember that heist I was doing a few months ago? Priceless heirloom, lots of money, you know how it is. I was on the job, like normal, when that fucking Spiderman shows up." You dropped the man's ankle and crouched in front of Ryan again. "Have you ever seen him without his mask? He's kinda hot, but in that infuriating "I really wanna punch you" kinda way?"

Ryan merely stared at you. He wasn't a very good audience.

You huffed. "Anyway. He showed up, we did the whole song and dance - the chase, the quips, the obvious flirting with a good layer of sexual tension - and I give him the slip." You frowned at your own memory of that night, planting your fists on your hips. "Except, I didn't. He caught me around the corner, and we went down, grappling. I think I hit him a little too hard in a place that I shouldn't've - that's rude in a fight, you know - because he yelled and suddenly bit my shoulder." You turned back around. "He bit me! Like a four year old!"

You thought Ryan mumbled something that sounded like, "Seriously?" but it was too hard to make out.

So, you replied with, "Yeah! And I went home, and I started feeling weird." Then, you crouched again, your fingers dancing over your knees. "And you know how we all kinda know that he's a weird little freak that's, like, part spider, or werewolf, or vampire, or something freaky? Yeah, I think whatever it is gave me powers," you whispered.

Ryan's eyes went wide.

You shrugged and stood, cupping your fingers around his head. "Yeah, it was weird. And now, here we are!" Your fingers tickled as a surge of electricity arched away from them and through his skull. "Not that you'll remember it," you mumbled.

The robber thrashed as you stepped away, then slumped to the ground. You watch him for a moment, frowning, waiting to make sure he was still breathing. When he groaned, you stepped back.

Then, you snapped your fingers, turning around to face the whole group of thieves you had piled in a corner. "Oh, what about Night Spider? That's pretty cool!" you asked.

"It's pretty," came a delayed reply. You looked over your shoulder. It was a customer, one of the few that was still curled up on the floor.

You smiled, and bowed at the waist. "Why thank you," you preened, standing, and waving your arm towards the door, "What're you all still waiting around here for? Get outta here!" You watched as the customers scrambled to their feet. "And tell the cops it was Night Spider that helped you!" You backed away, eyeing an exit you normally took to escape a bank with a similar layout. "Not Spiderman."

You bolted as the cops rushed into the building.

Miguel watched from atop the roof across the street, an annoyed scowl etched deep into his face. He knew he shouldn't have bitten you that night - but how could he have known you'd have such a reaction?!

And now, you went from being a pain in his side to a fucking problem.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, swearing under his breath.

Lyla would never let him live it down.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderverse #marvel

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 11 months ago

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Hand.

Word Count: 800

Characters: Shanks, Benn

Warnings: Brief talking of phantom limb syndrome.

Author's Notes: @/huyandere posted This Amazing Art earlier and it gave me brain worms about Shanks and his arm. Thanks. <3

Shanks lost his dominant hand.

That’s the first thing that he has to come to terms with, really. That he did, indeed, lose his dominant hand. Arm, really- not just the hand. The Neptunian did a number on him, but then again, he’s lucky, isn’t he? To have just lost the arm, not the side of his torso, nor the child who he had foolishly protected because for one reason or another, he liked Luffy. This scrappy, chaotic child who had survived so much already, who he saw so much promise in even if it scared him half to death to imagine him on the seas one day.

He lost his dominant arm.

The healing process was difficult. Hell, having a limb suddenly amputated wasn’t something you did every day, after all. The poor village doctor nearly had a damn heart attack looking at his arm. Benn had cried- shed actual tears over his arm in private, holding him close to his chest, whispering about how he’d failed him as a first mate.

(He hadn’t failed. Shanks just acted without thinking. That was his fault; he had always been a touch too impulsive, even as a kid).

So he’d lost his arm.

It took months of healing before even thinking about leaving. An open wound like that on the sea was simply asking for gangrene to set in, or for the flesh to grow infected with Gods know what, for him to take ill suddenly and oh, Gods, he couldn’t imagine how bad that could be! He loved his former captain, but he didn’t want to follow in his footsteps of getting sick.

He had to learn how to use his right arm.

His sword had been a custom, made for him to wield it left-handed. Gryphon was the blade’s name. A strong saber, custom made to have a longer than average blade length to it. Green hilt; beige guard. The weight was off for his right arm, he was sloppy with the way he waved it about. For a while, he thought that he was simply doomed to never wield a sword again.

(He couldn’t fight Mihawk like this, couldn’t even think about looking him in the eyes after this accident. How could he take him, now? Not one handed, not like this.)

Practice. Stamina training. Relearning how to draw his blade without cutting into his own hip. (And oh, the scars that lay on his right hip now from countless injuries done by practicing with Gryphon rather than a wooden blade at first, like an idiot.) It took well into a year before he was able to keep his balance again. Able to walk across the ship while waves rocked against the hull and not tip himself over with his inability to hold himself up.

The worst part was the phantom pains. Not the training- no, Benn and Yasopp kept him on his toes with their training. Soon enough, they were working together once more without issue. The phantom pains are what kept him awake in the night, biting down on his hand or his pillow to muffle the sobs of pain that tore from his throat. It burned, it ached. He could still feel his arm. He could still feel it reaching out. Could swear it was touching his blankets- but no, it wasn’t there. It isn’t there. It will never be there again.

He had to relearn how to write.

He’d had remarkable penmanship prior to this, something that Rayleigh had forced both himself and Buggy to learn. Something about a good pirate had good penmanship? He wasn’t sure; Roger was never bothered with it, his own writing had been chicken scratch. But he had good handwriting.

Not anymore.

Looking at the parchment, he felt a wave of anger crash over him. He almost- almost- swept the contents of his desk to the floor before he caught himself. No use in that, really. Ink was expensive. Parchment- good parchment at that- even more so. So, he sat down, and started once again. A, B, C, D- the entire alphabet. His hand shook as he held the quill; it ached in his fingers, this odd form of writing. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t do it- he would do it, Benn reminded him, leaning his hip against his desk. He would do it, because he needed to. He would do it, because he wanted to. He would do it.

He did.

The first letter was wobbly written, looking more apt for a ten year old rather than a man who had just turned thirty-two. The lines weren’t straight, the script tilting down towards the right side of the paper despite his best efforts.

“Dear Buggy,

ㅤ⠀I am writing to you

ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀once again.

ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀Hope this letter

ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀ㅤ⠀Finds you well…”

#one piece #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #buggy the clown #benn beckman #shuggy #listen Benn makes like two appearances okay #but also their shuggy art gives me fucking life and I adore it so much & their art style #I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND PEOPLE WRIITNG FICS BASED ON YOUR ART AAAAAAAAAA-

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smallpeniscollective · 1 year ago

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In the Woods

(Eddie Munson x Reader) (18+)

Summary: this was supposed to be from a longer fic that’s been brewing in the pot for a long while, but I got that worm in my brain that doesn’t let me finish things, and I haven’t posted in forever so you guys can have the porn scenes. if I ever finish it u can have the full fic as a treat <3

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: swearing, sexual content, protected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, slight edging

A/N: (this takes place at skull rock, also there are some things that reference the plot of the fic or moments within the full fic, ignore those <3)

Minors DNI please !!!

*~*~*

“So, did you do anything with your art, back in the city?” he asked, pondering if she was planning to be some snooty big-shot in an art gallery, or if she was aiming to be the next Van Gogh or Monet. He couldn’t help but picture the scene of her, scantily clad in nothing but an oversized button-up shirt, paint all over her but so focused on her work that she didn’t even care, the sun beaming through her studio space. God, she was so hot.

“Yeah, actually, I was training as a tattoo apprentice after school back in the city before I needed my, uh... little break,” she answered, flipping open her sketchbook to the first empty page she could find. She grabbed one of her sharpened number two pencils and placed the tip of it to the paper, beginning a doodle unrelated to their plans of DnD-related art.

“A tattoo artist, huh? I’ve actually got some tatties of my own,” he said, hoping that she’d ask to see them.

She waited a moment, the silence stilling the air between them. After a pause so long that he feared he had dismantled their conversational flow, she finally looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, are you gonna show me them?”

“Oh, r-right,” he stammered, immediately pulling himself from his spot against the boulder and shedding his layers of his denim vest and leather jacket, revealing tatted forearms. He stepped away from the boulder, closer to her, and held his arms out for her to see his sweet ol’ tatties.

She took one of his forearms in her hands, one hand holding his wrist and one hand propping his arm underneath, and he hoped that she didn’t notice the immediate goosebumps that raised on his skin. She did notice, but chose to say nothing, basking in the idea that she could set off his nerves like that. She slowly rotated his arm, studying the bats decorating his pale skin. “That’s so sick,” she said, looking all the way up at him from the forest floor.

In this moment, he realized she was face-level to his crotch, and sitting in front of it too. He tried not to picture her with her mouth on him, so that he wouldn’t pop a boner right in front of her face. Flustered and breathless, he airily chuckled, stepping back and saying, “Y-yeah, I really like that one.”

She gave him a look that asked, You okay? before asking aloud, “You got any others that you’re hiding from me?”

Remembering the one on his chest, he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing a hint of the one that rested below the right side of his collarbone. “This one, too.”

“I can’t see it from over there, dummy,” she giggled, climbing to her feet with a small grunt.

She approached him, eyes fixated on the hint of a tattoo. Taking the reins, she pulled his collar down further, brushing her fingers against his. His breath hitched as he felt her fingers against his hot skin, feeling like his heart was audibly pounding out of his chest. She seemed so calm and collected, using her other finger to softly trace over the inked skin on his chest, the contact making him suck in a breath through his teeth.

The tension in the air was thick like a fog, and she felt like every cell in her body was being drawn to him in a magnetic pull. She felt her own breathing speed up in their proximity, and she looked away from his chest tattoo and into his eyes to find he had been staring hard at her with blown pupils and flushed cheeks. She released the collar of his shirt, not moving her hand from its spot on his chest, not saying a word or breaking eye contact. The air around them felt electric, like lightning was about to strike them both down right here, right now.

She parted her lips to say something, anything, but no words came to mind. All she could focus on was the buzzing in her core and the heat in her face. He glanced down at her parted lips, letting his imagination roam wildly with fantasies of those lips on his, those lips all over him, and his lips all over her. She noticed this, subtly gripping his shirt in her hand. Deciding that she couldn’t take any more of this tension that choked her like a warm hand wrapped around her throat, she yanked, aggressively pulling him into her and smashed her mouth against his.

His hands flew to her face instantly, cupping her cheeks strongly as she sucked on his bottom lip, running her tongue across it gently as an inquiry. He invited her in, and they did the dance of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. She reveled in his taste and smell, the cigarettes and the hint of weed from a while ago, and the sound of his labored breathing from his nose against her face. She even liked the way his large nose pushed into her cheek, and she let her arms wrap around his neck in a tight embrace.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hands to her waist, pushing softly and leading her backwards until she felt herself bump up against a large surface, making her gasp against his lips. She let him pin her to the boulder, pulling him in closer and pressing her chest into his. When his abdomen pressed into hers, she could feel him already hard, making her whimper softly into his mouth. He took it as an opportunity to go farther, nestling his thigh in between her legs and resting his knee against the boulder, feeling the absolute heat radiating from her.

Her fingers dug into his hair, accidentally scratching at his scalp and eliciting a groan from him, which ignited her core like a fire. Without realizing it, she had let herself drop onto his thigh, pressing the seam of her jeans up against her clothed heat and rubbing against her covered clit. He felt her slight grind against his leg, letting himself grind his own arousal against her. He lowered one of his hands from her waist to her inner thigh, stroking it with his thumb and eliciting a full-on moan out of her with how close he was to touching her where she needed him most.

Upon hearing herself moan like that, she pulled back, panting. “Wait,” she breathed out, “we’re just friends… we shouldn’t—”

“This is what friends do, right? They help each other out?” he asked lowly, dipping his head to skim his lips against her neck in a ghost of a kiss in an attempt to tease her into wanting more. And, boy, did it work. He could see the goosebumps appearing all over her body.

She shivered before she responded with a meek, “Y-yeah, friends can do this...” He noticed the way her thighs clenched together against his thigh, and stroked her thigh again, even closer to her core that was now damp and getting damper by the second, making her suck in a quick breath through her teeth.

“Just friends,” he agreed, finally placing his lips against her skin and nipping at her neck. She was like putty in his big, warm hands, leaning into his touch and digging her fingers further into his hair, which made him smile against her skin. She could feel the outline of his lips moving against the warmth of her neck as he murmured, “Ugh, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this so bad, ever since I fucking laid eyes on you in the school parking lot.”

“M-me too,” she stammered, pulling him impossibly closer to where he just had to nestle entirely between her thighs. His hands climbed further down, sweeping underneath the curve of her ass to lift her, and she willingly obliged, letting herself be lifted and pressed against the boulder with her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. “I even asked Dustin who the hottie in the jacket was,” she whispered in admittance, and he bit down hard on her neck, eliciting a shocked whimper out of her.

“God, you’re so fucking cute,” he groaned before deftly licking the purple skin where he had bit down on, making her release short, panting breaths and grip his hair harder. “And so fucking pretty.”

He pressed his hard, denim-clad crotch into her, the pressure against her driving her insane. He gently ground into her, one hand holding her up by the ass and the other hand dipping underneath her shirt to feel her hot skin. She mewled like a kitten, needing more friction, not even caring about the rough surface against her back. He broke from the kiss to look at her in her desperate state, seeing her pleading eyes and tousled hair. He smirked, leaning down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You want it, baby?”

“Please,” she whimpered, and he chuckled darkly.

“Already begging for it? Aw, how could I deny such a pretty girl what she wants,” he teased, pulling back and letting her down. She wobbled on weak legs, and he softly pushed her back to lean against the boulder so that he could undo her pants, kneeling down to slip off her shoes and slide her pants off, revealing her legs to the chilly open air, already acquiring goosebumps. Her breath hitched at his own desperation, although a more dominant and demanding desperation.

He gazed down at her underwear with absolute adoration in his eyes. “Jesus, even your panties are so fuckin’ pretty,” he whispered to himself, still kneeling before her. She couldn’t deny the wetness that had pooled in her underwear, feeling her excited walls clench around nothing. This was really happening.

He placed his large, hot hands on her upper thighs, his cool rings contrasting the heat of his hands. He gently spread her thighs, sweeping a hand underneath one to lift it over his shoulder, his eyes locked on the sopping wet patch in the crotch of her panties.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” was all he could say, swiping over he drenched, clothed slit with his thumb to gently rub her sensitive nub over the fabric. Her breathing quickened, and she almost dropped her body weight on him, making him tense up his strong arms to stay put in their position. He looked up at her, her pupils blown and her face red, before asking quietly, “May I?”

“Y-yes,” she breathed out, and that was all it took for him to pull the crotch of her panties to the side and slide two thick fingers through her slick folds.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he whispered, pulling his hand back to watch in awe as the slick covering his fingers stringed as he separated his fingers. She whined pitifully, hoping it would bring his touch back to her.

Instead, he stood up, leaving her legs trembling and her half-exposed heat dripping down her thigh. When she saw him begin to undo his own jeans, her eyes were glued to his bulge, the zipper coming down to reveal a large tent in his plaid boxers. Before she let herself get carried away, she pulled herself back to reality for long enough to ask, “You got a rubber?”

“Oh! Yes, I do,” he chirped, leaving his clothed erection hanging out of his black jeans while he reached in his back pocket to pull out his wallet, an old leathery thing, and pulled out a silver packet. “Bingo,” he said, holding it up.

“Did you plan this?” she asked, wondering why he had brought along a condom in the first place.

“Not this specifically,” he admitted with a smirk, “but I did put this in my wallet right after we met.”

“You cheeseball,” she teased, taking the condom wrapper out of his hands. “Can I put it on you?” she asked, gazing into his eyes to find a glimmer of adoration in his.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed, looking down and pulling himself out of his boxers.

She couldn’t help but ogle at it; it was long but also quite girthy. She would have called it impressive if she didn’t want to give him any more of an ego that he already had. She settled for mouthing the word, Wow.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, she ripped the edge of the wrapper off with her teeth, ignoring the smidge of package lubricant that touched her tongue. He stepped up close to her again, his length brushing against the belly of her shirt. Taking the rolled up rubber, she touched it to his tip, that already had a small bead of pre-cum leaking. He hissed at the contact as she rolled the condom down his length, gripping it and shimmying the latex down as far as it would go, her band brushing against the mound of dark brown hair at his base, which tickled her hand.

He watched her do this, his stare morphing from awestruck to almost predatory as he thought about all of the things he could do to her, anything to get her to make those beautiful noises for him again. As soon as the condom was on, he swooped her up once more, lifting her to pin her between the boulder and himself with the only barrier between them being the thin, soaked fabric of her underwear.

She wanted to kiss him again so bad, but she just couldn’t look away from his intense eye contact. She wrapped her arms lazily around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair strands at the nape of his neck. His eyes bored into her soul as he reached down in between them, pulling her underwear to the side, and sliding himself up and down her wet slit, gathering her slick and bumping the sensitive nub that made her gasp and wrap her legs around him tighter. She tried to look down in between them, so that she could watch him, but his other hand grabbed her jaw, holding her face so that she had no choice to but to hold his stare.

His member prodded her dripping hole, and he leaned in to finally kiss her again, pressing into her and pushing himself in at the same time. The sensation of him ever so slowly stretching her out made her moan into his mouth, and she pulled him harder into the kiss, her hands buried at their rightful place in his hair.

Once he was buried to the hilt, she adjusted to his size, feeling herself relax around his member, and she broke their kiss to bury her face in his neck, his hair sticking to her face. She felt her walls clench down on him from his lack of movement and her need for just that. He leaned his head against hers, nuzzling her for a moment before whispering in her ear, “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered out, feeling her own hips stutter against his body at the thought of him pounding into her.

“Yes, what, baby?” Chills ran down her spine. She never pictured herself enjoying being dominated, but with Eddie, she wanted nothing more for him to do whatever he wanted with her.

“Please!” she squeaked out, whimpering against his neck.

And that was all it took for him to give her exactly what she wanted, what she craved so desperately. He thrusted into her, against the huge rock, at a leisurely pace, and the drag of his thick length continuously stretching her from the inside had her already quaking. She was a mess, whimpering and whining into the crook of his neck, feeling the pleasurable burn of her tightness being filled out so completely. “Eddie, that feels so good,” she whined.

When he began to pound harder, he pulled her head away from his neck and cradled the back of her head to keep it from banging against the solid rock behind her. He wanted to watch the pleasure in her face. He listened to her whines turn into moans, he watched her jaw go lax and her brows knit together.

“Fuck, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he groaned in between his own grunts, one hand behind her head and one digging into the side of her hip so hard that he was almost worried he’d leave a bruise.

He slid his hand down from her hip, down in between their bodies, down past her pretty panties, and landed on her sweet, throbbing cunt that was taking him in so well. She whined at the contact, thrusting her hips out for him, and he absolutely ate it up, using two fingers to rub soft, slow circles around her aching clit.

At this, her legs were tensing up, squeezing around his waist hard. To him, she sounded like an angel, moaning and whimpering so beautifully just for him. He let himself speed up his pace, slamming into her ferociously while keeping his fingers slow and steady.

Her whole body was shaking as she felt that string inside of her wind tightly, begging to snap, and Eddie knew. He could feel her tightening up around his cock, and he wanted to give her something she’d never forget.

He slowed down his thrusts into an agonizing pace, slowly sliding in and out with ease, his fingers taking their time on her overstimulated bundle of nerves, prolonging the build-up to her orgasm. She was downright trembling against him, and her eyes fluttered open to look at him, her eyes welling with hot tears of pleasure. She needed more, needed him faster and harder. All she could do was beg pitifully, whimpering strings of “please, please, please,” with her moans.

“Please?” he groaned, taking in the sight of her writhing before him. “Oh, baby… you don’t need to ask, you’re almost there,” he teased, adding his thumb to swipe up and down her drenched slit while he kept his fingers on her clit.

She let her hips chase the feeling, rutting up against him as the overstimulation from his the slow push and pull of his cock, the attention to her slit, and the touches around her clit gathered up inside of her, tightening up in her core until she felt like she was about to burst. She squeezed her eyes, her chin wobbling as she began to feel that white hot pleasure sear through her.

Just as she felt herself slowly begin to let go, he felt the first tight clench and smirked. He suddenly began pounding harder once more, feeling her walls flutter around him so tightly he thought it would project him out of her. Her moans were more like quick, high-pitched squeals as that string inside of her finally snapped and she came harder than she ever had in her life around Eddie’s cock.

He rode her through her orgasm, continuing her pleasure as he chased his own, listening to her incoherent babbling as she let her lips loose on his neck, mindlessly licking and sucking at it as she held him so tightly that her nails dug into the back of his neck. His grunts became his own soft moans as his hips stuttered into hers, and he came with a soft, “Oh, fuck, baby,” cooed in her ear, spilling himself into the condom but wishing he could just paint her insides with his seed. He dropped his head against hers and they stayed there like that for a good, long moment, basking in post-coital bliss.

Both panting and sweaty messes, he pulled back and she looked at him, a wide smile blossoming on her face. They both couldn’t help it, and they laughed hard at the irreversible choice they just made. She winced as he pulled out, and in consolation, he kissed her sweaty forehead.

He slid the condom off, tying the end of it into a knot like the world’s wimpiest water balloon, while she put her put her pants back on, swiping off the dirt it had gathered from sitting on the forest floor, and slipped her shoes back on.

She watched as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his jeans, filled condom still in hand. He took a second to look at it wonderingly, before suddenly turning to throw it as hard as he could up towards the huge boulder above them that was shaped like a skull. They both watched as it disappeared above the head of the boulder, not hearing it land on the other side, leaving them both to assume he had managed to throw it on top of the boulder, to sit there until somebody was bold enough to climb it and discover a nasty, used condom.

He released a content sigh, stretching his back backwards before joking, “So, ‘hottie with the jacket’, huh?”

“Shut up,” she retorted, slinking back down with shaky legs to sit on the ground. “So, you wanna talk art?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things volume 4

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lilithaban · 2 years ago

Text

books and kisses

pairings: wonwoo x female reader

— filo setting

🖋️: smut, crack!

warning: 🔞, mature content, profanities, dick riding, unprotected s!x, dry humping, d! riding, bl!wj!b, multiple org!sm

— dni minors!

posted: february 14, 2023

happy reading!

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

“That wasn't the case AJ,”

I rolled my eyes and tried not to argue with these four eyes on my side. Yes, I'm with Jeon fucking Wonwoo. The astute fuckass.

"Nye nye nye, I stand for what I speak for 'no!'" "I know I'm right," I said confidently.

"Oh my, you're not just looking at the slides that Sir Fernando gave us, it said that coagulation is a natural mechanism that acts to reduce blood loss from hemorrhage,"

Him and his smartass brain.

Gusto ko na lang siyang sapakin

“Basically, coagulation's role is to diminish blood ha not to remove the blood,”

Sa sobrang inis ko sa kayabangan niya nagbasa na lang ako ng book ni Murakami. Mas naiintindihan ko pa 'to kesa sa nirereview namin.

“Nakikinig ka ba, Aj?” I heard him called me but I refuse to response kasi nga fuck you siya.

Hinablot niya naman sakin yung librong binabasa ko at pinagtaasam niya ako ng kilay. “Paano mo naman ako matatalo niyan sa anaphy kung iba binabasa mo”

Sinapak ko siya sa braso at inirapan. “Ang yabang mo talaga! wala naman akong pake sa rankings na yan. Wala naman na akong will para mag-aral,” walang gana kong sinabi at inagaw sa kamay niya yung libro.

“Well if you say so. suit yourself then”

Konti na lang tatadyakan ko na to nakakainis yung tono ng pananalita eh.

I'm not sure how long it's been, but we're still studying for midterms in anatomy and physiology. He's teaching me the terminology that I've missed upon when I've been away. I'm bored, but all I can do is stare at him as he flexes how much his brain can store. And I find him very attractive, no, he is really attractive I'm not gonna lie about that but whenever he is serious and talking things like this make me feel things.

He's just Jeon Wonwoo, a man with black glasses. A man wearing plain black shirt almost everyday. A man with monolid eyes.

Simple lang naman 'tong hayop na to pero parang ang extra pogi niya ngayon?!

As I stared intently at him I feel something down there. I'm starting to move like a fucking worm because I feel tingling sensation down there. And I'm not that noob to know.

I'm fucking turn on pero nagsasalita lang naman siya dyan, nagrereview para sa midterms namin pero shet tangina

Kantutin mo ako naman ako Wons!

Syempre sinabi ko lang yan sa utak ko medyo nerd 'tong mayabang na 'to eh. Pero dahil hindi ako pinalaking duwag ng mama ko tinanong ko siya.

“Wons,” tawag ko sa kanya at kinalabit siya

“Hmm”

“I want to have sex with you”

Siguro kung may iniinom tong kape mabibilaukan to. Sa gulat niya eh nawala siya sa balanse kahit na nakaupo lang siya kaya nahulog yung mga libro na nakapatong sa tabi niya.

“What?!”

Lumapit ako sakanya at dahan-dahan inalis yung mga reviewer sa hita niya at kumandong sa kanya saka pinuwesto ang dalawang kamay ko sa balikat niya.

Tinitigan ko muna siya nang mabuti bago nagsalita. Tanginang to ang pogi talaga

Taena ano bang nangyayari sakin ngayon?!

“I said wanna have sex with you,”

I slowly grind on his lap. Good thing I wore skirt today so ramdam na ramdam ko yung bukol sa jeans niya. I'm starting to feel things right now. Alam kong basang-basa na ako down there.

"I hate to admit this, but you're really attractive, you know, but today?! I'm not sure what kind of potion you did drank, but I see you extra fucking hot today, and your stupid mouth teaching me terms made me feel a tingling sensation,"

I'm still grinding on his lap, and I can already hear his heavy breathing. I swear his piercing stares can kill me in an instant! He looks like a tiger about to devour his prey. His already turn on but he's not saying anything.

Fucking shit, I'm only grinding at him but I can feel liquid flowing from my hole. What the fuck I already did cum but this bitch still staring at me I mean more likely glaring!

“Oh my god wons, aren't you gonna response? I already cum and you're still an ass—” hindi ko na natuloy sasabihin ko nang bigla niya akong sinunggaban ng halik.

Para akong mababaliw sa paraan niya ng paghalik. He's kissing me, but it's sloppy. He never let any part of my lips dry. His lips are devouring my lips. Oh my god, he is such a good fucking kisser.

The kiss progressed from sloppy to aggressive and deeper. Our tongues are already fighting when he breaks off to remove his glasses before kissing me again.

Oh my fuck ang hot ng pagkakatanggal niya ng glasses!

He quickly kissed me again after removing the major obstacle to our make out session. Habang bumaba labi niya sa leeg ko naramdaman ko ang paglakbay ng kamay nito magmula sa bewang ko patungo sa skirt ko.

“Mhhmmm” napaungol ako ng bigla kong naramdaman kamay nitong hinihimas puke ko kahit na may suot pa akong underwear. Nakakabaliw. Ang sarap.

Hinihimas niya palang naman yung puke ko pero para na akong lalabasan or did I cum again...already?

Naggrind ulit ako sa ibabaw niya habang patuloy ang pagpapak ng mga lab nito sa leeg ko. “Ay putangina ka” napasigaw ako ng warakin niya ang damit ko, revealing my mounds since I'm not wearing anything underneath that top.

Ramdam ko ang diin ng mga titig ni Wons sakin. “Hoy wala talaga akong suot na bra since ikaw lang naman yan. And besides I have my cardigan with me 'no”

Totoo naman! siya lang naman kasama ko kaya hindi na rin ako nagbra atsaka may dala akong cardigan. Malay ko bang hindi niya napansin utong ko kanina. “Damn, you are fucking hot” napamura pa ito bago nilamas at nilamon nito ang dibdib ko.

Napapa-arko na yung katawan ko sa sensasyong dulot ni Wons sakin. I just know na nilabasan na ako for the third time. Wala na akong pake na sabihin pa iyon sa kanya.

Umalis ako sa kandungan niya at hinubad lahat ng natitirang saplot sa katawan ko. Tinaasan ko ng kilay ang lalaki sa harapan ko habang yung gago...

Naka manspread may diin yung mga titig niya parang kinikiliti yung tinggil ko. Halos mapamura na ako nang kagatin nito ang labi niya at hinila ulit ako pa-upo sa kandungan niya. Kinurot ko ang tagiliran niya pero hindi pa rin siya natinag.

"Why don't you take off your damn clothes?” kahit na gumigiling pagkakasabi ko nun eh marahan pa rin akong gumigilinh sa ibabaw niya. Hindi pa rin siya nagsasalita at habang ako mas lalong naging magaslaw yung paggiling ko dahil ramdam ko na nalalabasan na naman ako.

And at this point, I'm going to lose my shit. I've already cum multiple times and don't want to cum again without him fucking my hole!

“Oh my god wons. I'm don already”

Sa inis ko ako na lang nag initiate. Nagmamadali kong kinalas ang belt niya. Binaba ang zipper ng jeans niya sabay binaba ito kasama ng underwear niya.

Napalunok ako sa nakita ko. I mean I know he's big alright! but I didn't expect him to be this BIG.

Hindi na ako nagsayang ng oras pa at walang pasabing sinubo ang ari nito. Tangina sa laki ng ari niya halos mabilaukan na ako kahit na hindi ko pa naman sinusubo ng buo ito.

“Fuck”

“Damn baby I like how dominant you are”

“Fuck you, yes right there”

“You are taking me so well baby”

“Aaaahhh- mmhhmm”

Dahil sa nga narinig ko mas lalo pa akong ginanahan na chupain siya. Naka tingin lamang ako sakanya habang pinapaligaya ito. Nakapikit ba nga mata nito at mahigpit ang hawak sa buhok ko habang nakaawang ang bibig niya.

Mayamaya pa ay napadaing siya dahil tuluyan na siyang nilabasan. At dahil hindi ako pinalaking mahina ni mama nilunok ko lahat ng nilabas nito.

“Hmm you taste so good. I'd like to taste that lollipop again” I said with my flirty voice

Nagulat na lamang ako dahil bigla ako nitong inangat at biglang binagsak sa hita niya. Napahiyaw ako dahil walang pasabing pinasok nito ang ari niya sakin.

“Aj, I'm sorry but I cannot eat you now because the library is about to close and I need to fuck with you right now,”

After hearing that I slowly move on his lap. Adjusting myself on how big he is. Mayamaya pa ay bumibilis na ang pagtaas-baba ko sa kandungan niya.

“Putangina ang laki mo wons”

“Shit ang sarap sarap mo, Aj”

“A-aaahh fuck”

Sumabay na rin sa ritmo si wons kaya rinig na rinig pagsasallukan ng mga balat namin na siyang nagdagdag lamang ng libog sa aming mga katawan.

Umaarko na ang likod ko at mga mata ko'yo papikt-pikit na dahil sa sobrang sarap ng pagkantot nito sakin sabayan pa ng pagbigay ng mga malalagkit na halik sa dibdib ko.

“Ooh my shit I'm cuming”

“Fuck you, let's cum together”

Napahawak ako ng mahigipit sa balikat niya ng labasan na kami parehas. Ramdam ko ang pag-puno ng katas nito sa puke ko.

Pagod na pagod akong yumakap sakanya. Naghahabol ng hininga habang nakapasok pa rin ang ari nito sa butas ko.

“I don't know that you are this naughty.”

Natawa na lamang ako sa sinabi nito dahil wala na akong lakas para magsalita pa.

“Mmhmm let's go. We'll continue this to my condo,”

"And you'll still need to recite what I taught you today baby. Well after all anaphy is your mortal enemy”

#svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt wonwoo #svt smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #filo au #filipino author #filipino #smut #spg #svt filo au

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foxholewriting · 3 months ago

Text

Hunter

Black/Male Reader - Slice of life/Fluff - Words/ 728

Pronouns - He/Him ; Pet Name(s) - None

Mention - Murder (light murder), Zombie being a zombie

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

“I’m not doing this Black.” Y/N glared at Black and then looked at the poor dude that was tied up with rope, he had appeared a few days previous causing havoc on everyone most recently committing armed robbery. He seemed to have a particular target for younger women.

“Why not?” He looked down at the man who was worming and wriggling around like a pathetic worm dirt was stirring up making Y/N cough, he was sure that Black would do what he wanted with this man either way but making Y/N watch wasn’t fair.

“So what you want me to do is release this man so you can hunt him down? Why do you need me here to do that, your arms stop working? Oh wait, maybe they fell off? I was having a cozy night with Grete watching a very strange version of the price is right where people had to fist fight to get to guess the price. I just saw two old ladies dook it out but now i’m out here feeding you like my pet zombie.” Black stared at him as if to say “Are you done yet?” Y/N rolled his eyes and took Black’s pocket knife.

“Wait until i’m-” Y/N raised his hand to flip him off, this is the same song and dance they’ve had for the last few weeks.

“I know I know, you need to get into position while I interrogate the guy to find out whatever scraps of information he could possibly have. I swear your brain has rotted through.” Black huffed walking away into the factory already done with Y/N, it’s become a ritual, a silent agreement that not even Crux intrudes on.

It took several attempts to pin the man down and cut the ropes that were gagging his mouth, he looked at Y/N panicked then looked around as if this was the first time he’s ever been here.

“Where the hell am I? Where’s my daughter?” Y/N let him panic and get it out of their system, usually when they panic they don’t give clear answers or even a worthy hunt for Black making it a lose lose situation. After a few minutes the man seemed to calm down enough to answer Y/N’s questions.

“I don’t know where your daughter is, do you know what happened to you?” The man, admitting his name is Colin, had a puzzled look on his face.

“What happened to me? All I can remember is me having an argument with my daughter over her boyfriend, her screaming at me to turn around seeing her boyfriend carrying something then everything went dark.” Colin didn’t give any answers beyond that, why he was stealing or why he didn’t even try to look for his daughter. The story didn’t add up, there wasn’t a way to cross reference any news or articles in his past universe to compare notes.

“What are you? A fucking detective?” Y/N rolled his eyes, okay time to cut this dude loose he was causing a headache and he was giving him the creeps. The ropes gave way easily with small sounds of ripping, Y/N stepped back running somewhere to hide. It took several minutes before the man got up and moved around, he was looking for Y/N but it was hard to coordinate the factory yard to even try to find him.

This part was usually the more grotesque part of the event, not that Black was grotesque but the act of him feeding was grotesque since he still hadn’t mastered a more neat approach to it. It was like he didn’t act human, it was primal and raw which made it so much harder to stomach. An hour passed before Black came to find Y/N who was currently writing in his journal.

“Ready?” Y/N looked up and grimaced before using a washed rag to wipe his face, careful to not be too rough as he washed away whatever human by product was stuck to his skin.

“Feeling better?” Black smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I don’t think I’ll need to eat for a while.” They both laughed as they walked back to Grete’s house, without either of them saying anything they linked hands and for a moment everything felt okay. Everything felt human again.

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

@kiiyoooo & @doubledeadstudio

If you want to be tagged in anything please let me know

#male reader #x male reader #reanimated heart #male! reader #reanimated heart black #black x male reader #black x male! reader

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sarahowritesostucky · 10 months ago

Text

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 4 - Package Deal

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kids/domestic, fingering, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, Voicing, claiming bites, D/s elements, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression, postpartum, body insecurity, breastfeeding, mpreg, pet names

Word Count: ~7000 (I'm sorry, okay?!😫)

Summary: Steve and Bucky make love for the first time since the birth of their son.

(Or: a prime example of how even my sincere attempts at g-rated domestic kid fics devolve into 6000+ words of smut 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.”]

(Wait! I haven't read part 1, 2, 3 yet!)

Steve appears in the doorway to their bedroom after putting the girls to bed. “ ‘And the children were nestled all snug in their beds’ ,” he recites, making Bucky chuckle softly.

“ 'blah blah, something about a long winter’s nap' .” (Which doesn’t sound bad at all to him right about now.) “That took a while," he says, stifling a yawn against the top of Gabe’s head. “They didn’t get their hands on any sugarplums at that party, did they?”

Steve shakes his head. “Naw. Crackers and juice.”

“Juice has sugar.”

“They’re fine. Reading got ‘em down.”

“We still on Stuart Little?”

“Becs begged for an extra chapter,” Steve confirms, smiling from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes full of affection as he watches Bucky feeding their son. “Did you have a nice time tonight, babe?”

Bucky winces first and lies second, so of course his ever-perceptive husband raises an eyebrow and waits him out for the truth. Bucky recounts the encounter with Karen and the other moms. “They wear me out,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed and his head dig back into the pillow that he’s got propped against the headboard. “Even when I promise myself I’m just gonna eat the food and not engage, somehow they draw me in. They have that knack.”

“Eh. They’re just a bunch’a cotton-headed ninny muggins.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah well I’m not too far off from ‘em.” He feels Gabe slowing down and trails his fingers through the boy’s wispy hair. “Here I thought it was last week instead of this week. Seven full calendar days off track.”

“Babe, it happens.”

“Hm. No it doesn’t. But you’re sweet for saying so.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Neurologist said I’ve got too much white matter, now.”

“Yeah, and he also said it isn’t getting any worse. Lots’a people have brain injuries and manage to live perfectly fine lives.”

Bucky doesn’t miss how Steve substitutes the word ‘fine’ for ‘normal’, and his lips twist wryly. “I know. It’s just, all this time I’ve been blaming it on pregnancy brain, but that'd be wearing off by now.” He groans with his eyes still closed. “Swiss cheese for brains, Stevie, I swear.”

Steve makes a sad tut of disapproval from the doorway. Bucky stubbornly doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear the soft sounds of Steve padding across the room, then the bed dipping by his side as he slides in next to him. “You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he encourages.

Despite how much Bucky disagrees with that assessment, he can still hear all the love and warmth in Steve’s voice, can tell that his husband sincerely means it when he leans in and kisses his ear, lips and breath lingering at the craggy, mutilated top. It’s one of the ways that Steve has always silently said ‘I love you’ to Bucky when he knows the omega is in a bad mood, and it somehow manages to worm its way past his churlishness each and every time. “Thanks, Babe,” he mutters.

Steve wiggles in to sit beside him, hip to hip, mindful of Bucky and the baby and not upsetting Gabe’s feeding time. “... Did something else happen today? You seem, I dunno, burdened.”

“I am. I mean I’m just fucking tired, but yeah.”

His hand appears on top of Bucky's thigh. “Tell me?”

Bucky sighs. “Just my emotions goin’ haywire. Hormones. I went jogging and cried in the park.”

“Baby,”

Steve never likes to hear that Bucky’s unhappy, which is the main reason why Bucky avoids mentioning it. He’s got a therapist for that shit, after all. “Eh, it was brief. I got over it. But then I realized the play was tonight and I had to scramble to get the girls' costumes together; and right before that, I had to do battle with this snotty little beta at the pharmacy just to try and get my prescription filled, so that didn’t help.”

“What?”

Bucky ruefully recounts the incident with his birth control medication and the new FDA regulations, and Steve starts to rumble angrily in his chest before the story is halfway through. Bucky opens his eyes to see his Alpha looking all indignant on his behalf. His lips quirk. “Easy there, Big guy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve growls. “I didn’t know there was any kind of legislation like that being considered.”

Steve’s unhappy scent is making Gabe start to pull away, and Bucky rubs the infant’s back. “Calm down. You’re making him squirm.” Steve grumbles but tries to obey, and Bucky relaxes when he feels Gabe go searching for another latch. “I dunno Steve. Things are changing, and I see the signs and it just scares the crap outta me.”

“What do you mean, ‘changing’?”

“Just ... the little things," he mumbles, knowing that there's a chapter in his book called that, and that Steve probably remembers it, too. Bucky shrugs, avoiding Steve's concerned stare. "A couple of years ago, people weren’t talking so much about church. Now everybody’s back to talking about gender roles all the time.”

“People are allowed to have religion, Buck.”

“It’s not just that. It’s people’s attitudes changing, their whole approach. It scares me. People didn’t used to always be talking about what was ‘decent’ or what was ‘allowed’ on this platform or that. Purity culture, moral absolutism; those things were on the decline, ya know? People didn’t criticize working mothers as much. Omegas didn’t wear their collars in public like it's some sort of fashion statement. 'Tradwives' weren’t trending on TikTok. … Abortion was protected.”

“It’s still protected,” Steve argues.

“Here it is,” Bucky says peevishly, because they both know about each and every issue that’s been kicked back to the states in recent years. “It’s how fast everybody forgets. Now those bumper stickers are coming back in vogue again, Jesus fish lapel pins. Hell, it’s even normal to launch a friendly chat with a chipper little ‘where do you fellowship?’ They’re banning books all the time—”

“In schools, not public libraries,” Steve interrupts, then hurriedly adds, “I’m not defending it, Buck. I’m just saying there’s a difference.”

“There’s a difference until there’s not a difference,” he snaps. Then, after a beat of fraught silence between them, he whispers, “Please tell me it’s not happening again, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve shifts beside him, putting an arm behind his back to pull him closer against his side. He kisses the top of his head. “No, Buck. We’ve got intelligence agencies to fight against that, now. That’s what Shield is for. It’s what I do. You’ve gotta know I’d never let you or the girls—the kids,” he hurriedly amends, not yet used to “the girls” no longer being an apt descriptor of their children, “get drawn into a situation like that again. I’d never let it happen, baby, never. You know we have an exit plan if things get bad.”

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it. “Yeah,” he whispers against Gabe’s head. He knows that Steve only put that plan together to help assuage Bucky’s lingering fears, his anxiety that never quite goes away completely. “Yeah. We can get out. We have a plan.” He’s whispering it to himself, vaguely recognizes the beginning feelings of a spiral, how his pulse is faster than it should be, audible in his ears, with dread pooling low in his gut like spoiled food.

He whimpers and pushes his nose against Gabe’s hair to soothe himself, inhaling the new baby smell that he still has. “We have a private jet,” he whispers, reminding himself, trying not to let his thoughts flash back to the memory of the retreating rear window of his mom’s car at a border crossing, his sisters’ faces pressed against the glass as they leave him behind in a country where he's not safe anymore …

“Untrackable Quinjet, fly to Canada,” he murmurs, trying to focus on five things that he can see, smell, feel, taste and hear … about Gabe, his son, his—

“Baby,” Steve is mourning by his side. He grips Bucky’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze, which pulls Bucky’s vision back into focus from the panic attack he’d been about to fall into. Steve seems unaware of it. He’s still just cuddling him and talking platitudes in a low voice. “That’s not happening, okay? Things are fine, I promise you.”

Bucky nods, even though he can’t help but to worry, “Then why are people giving up their rights again?” he asks. “You know they’re expanding the Fertility Care Act.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take anyone’s rights away.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“I know. I know babe. ‘Incentiv—”

“Incentivization is the first step to coercion!” Bucky finishes for him. “Yes. They’re prioritizing citizens who can have kids over ones who can't. How is that fair?!”

Steve lowers his head. “It’s not.”

“And passing all these restrictive laws? Requiring my Alpha to cosign on my birth control? How can they do that?”

Steve sighs. “We’re still a democracy,” he says sadly. “People still have the right to vote for the policies they want, even if they’re not the same things that you and I want. We’re a self-determining society, babe. If they get enough support for it, enough votes … People still get to make these decisions.”

Bucky grunts. “Well they're making the wrong ones.”

Steve hums in agreement, giving him another squeeze. “Hey now, don’t think about that stuff. Relax with me tonight, that’s what I want.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re gonna turn the milk sour, you keep worrying like that,” he teases. “C’mere, grumpy.” He dips in and nuzzles against Bucky’s face to try and get a small smile out of him. It kind of works, and Steve hums happily when he feels him soften. “How’s Little man?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s temple and looking down at their son.

“Pretty sure he’s eating in his sleep,” Bucky murmurs. “And I’m about to be too.”

“Mm. But you’re not eating.”

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

Steve leans in and noses at his neck, scenting him affectionately. “You smell so good, momma. Smell like home, like mate.” Bucky makes a grumbling sound of complaint at the “momma” and Steve snickers and kisses him in apology. He cups his hand behind Bucky’s flesh one, intimately joining him in cradling their infant son’s head against Bucky’s chest. “Lookit that,” he purrs, and it’s not all innocence to his tone, as he stares at where Gabe is suckling. “I love to see you like this,” he murmurs. “Seeing you feeding him, giving him what he needs. Using that part of yourself for this.”

Bucky groans and lets his eyes fall closed again in mortification. “Steeve.” He feels Steve’s thumb start swiping back and forth on the back of his hand that's cupping Gabe's head.

“Shh. It’s true, momma.” Steve starts peppering kisses against the top of his shoulder as he watches Gabe nursing and Bucky blushing. He speaks softly between the kisses, murmuring intimate words of love against Bucky’s skin: “Love it. Love you. You don’t know what it does to me, to see you with him like this. Watching you takin’ care of him. Knowing that your gorgeous body can do this, can nourish him. The baby you made for me, my son.” His voice is rumbling again by the time he finishes, possessive, and he laces their fingers together and ducks in close to start mouthing at Bucky’s bonding glands—something which he knows turns Bucky on to no end, goddamn him.

Bucky groans and whines. “Are you serious right now?” Steve’s laugh puffs out against his skin, warm and affectionate, and Bucky drops his head to try and hide the smile he can’t keep off his own face. “Damn you, Rogers.”

“Language, momma Rogers,” Steve purrs, which only serves to make the heat in Bucky’s face worse. “Let me put him down,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s neck one last time before moving forward to take Gabe. Bucky hands him over with a tired hum, letting his eyes slip closed again while Steve is gone.

He’s surprised when he drifts off to sleep and the next thing he’s aware of is Steve crawling back into the bed with him. “Mmhh, I fell asleep.”

“I can see that.”

“He go down okay?”

“Yep.” Steve pulls him into his arms and lies down with him, kissing his forehead. “You make me so happy, Buck,” he whispers. He trails kisses down his face until he reaches his lips, then presses gentle pecks there until he’s able to coax his way inside for more. He makes out with him lazily, humming in pleasure as Bucky softens and starts to respond to it. He lets one hand roam his body, trailing up and down the omega’s side, then squeezing his waist. “You tired?” he whispers.

Bucky smirks with his eyes closed. “M’ always tired.”

Steve hums in agreement and kisses him some more. “He slept through the night last night.”

“Yeah. Don’t jinx it. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“Want to fool around?” Steve murmurs, already kissing along his jaw towards his neck again. His big hands roam Bucky’s body, caressing his waist and circling behind to grab at his ass. “I miss you.”

Bucky sighs in pleasure, nodding. “I’m fucking tired,” he murmurs—very pointedly not a ‘no’—then shivers when Steve rolls over to cover him with his body, pressing one firm, thick thigh up between his legs. Bucky groans tiredly. “Ohh, Honey.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Steve promises, whispering the words against his neck in a conspiratorial way that makes Bucky chuckle. Steve kisses his bonding gland again. “Mmm, promise. You can just lie here and feel good.”

“Or fall asleep,” Bucky mutters, though as Steve presses his thigh down and rolls his hips, the odds of that happening significantly diminish. Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed and digs his skull back into the pillow, shivering full-body as he feels his dick waking up. “Mm, Stevie. Yeah. Make me feel good?”

“Course,” Steve whispers, before sealing his mouth over the sensitive tissue of Bucky’s bond scar. He hums in pleasure as he sucks hard, coaxing the gland underneath to swell and grow closer to the skin with arousal. He fits his teeth to the shape of it, biting in a quick, sharp nip that makes Bucky gasp.

“Oh! Steve …”

“You remember what the doctor said,” he teases, scraping his teeth over the spit-wet skin. “Hm? ‘Bout the ways Alpha can help you feel good?”

“Ohh, mm hm.” Bucky’s O.B. and his therapist have told them that stimulation of the glands can help relieve some of the effects of postpartum depression—including regular sex and penetrating bites from a bondmate. They've tried the latter but not the former, but Steve has been more than keen on the idea of helping his omega in both ways.

“What do you say, baby?” he asks, licking and kissing all over his bond scar. “Hm? It's all healed up from last time. Can I?”

Bucky whimpers, weak from the rush of arousal that always comes at hearing Steve ask for this. “Nnn,” he whines uselessly, rolling his body up against the alpha’s bulk. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Nnn, don’t.”

“Aw, why not?” he coos lazily, still mouthing at that spot. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He moves up to whisper in Bucky’s ear: “I know how hard it makes you cum when I time it just right.”

Bucky moans pitifully. He tries to remember what his reason for protesting it is, but it’s hard. “It’s almost—oh! mmm—s’almost Thanksgiving. W-we, um … T-tony’s parties, n’ the Turkey Trot …”

Steve lets his teeth drag over the glands again. “Fuck the Turkey Trot. So what? I love seeing you fresh with my mark. And this way everyone else will too. They’ll see it and they’ll know you’re mine. Know I was probably fucking you while I did it, claimin’ you all over again.” His voice is rough and gravelly by the end, full of heat and possession. “You got any idea how much I like that?”

“Hnhh,” Bucky breathes, unable to argue against that reasoning. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Steve purrs, eliciting another pathetic whine from his mate. Bucky can practically feel Steve’s satisfied grin as he continues to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mouth never leaving his bonding glands for long. “Smell so fuckin’ good, momma,” he groans, and this time rather than protest the endearment, Bucky keens at the way Steve says it: like Bucky being the mother of his children is the sexiest, most wonderful thing imaginable. Steve keeps kissing a path down his neck and shoulder, over his collarbone and chest, stopping when he reaches the level of his pecs and sealing his mouth to a nipple—the same place where their baby was nursing not even ten minutes ago.

Bucky shivers in sensitivity and blushes like a madman, his hands flying up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “Nnh, Steve, wait, oh …”

Steve groans and rubs his cheek against his chest, the drag of his facial hair and his hot breath making Bucky’s nipples harden into tight nubs. He brings a hand up to cup one swollen pec and mouths openly at the other, groaning as he stares greedily. “Fuck, baby, look at you.”

“Steve,” Bucky pants. “Nnn,”

“Mm mn, no. Hush. Just let me play with ‘em.”

Bucky continues to whine about it, but a hardening dick and a leaking asshole don’t lie, and Steve knows him too well to let him get away with such shallow evasion at this point in their marriage.

He settles in for the long feast, humming and grunting in pleasure between kisses and sucks to Bucky’s chest, alternating sides and squeezing whatever he isn’t mouthing over at the moment. “God, baby,” he says between one kiss and the next. “Wish you’d stay like this. Love your body like this. So soft, just for me.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Mmhm. Could keep you like this forever. All needy and sensitive.” He traps Bucky’s nipple between his lips and sucks, hard, and Bucky feels that tingly sensation and knows what’s going to happen a second before it does. His hands fly to Steve’s head and he cries out, but there’s no time for him to warn his husband before his body lets out a tiny spurt of breastmilk. Steve only pauses for a second, his mouth still on him, and then he groans loudly against Bucky’s chest. He sucks again, huffing in enjoyment, then lifts up and meets Bucky’s gaze with lust-blown eyes. “Oh honey,” he whispers, sounding devastated. “I almost forgot how sweet you are.”

Bucky’s brain is kind of short circuiting at the sheen on Steve’s lips, wet from his very own breast milk. “Shit,” he exhales shakily. “Alpha.”

Steve growls and drops back down to suck on him some more. Bucky can only lie there and take it, his head tossing on the pillow and hands gripping Steve’s hair as the alpha makes a playground of his chest. Bucky whines and complains, but truth be told there’s something small and squirmy inside of him that secretly loves it when his husband indulges in his body this way. It makes him feel wanted and beautiful, reminds him that Steve loves every part of him, even when Bucky himself doesn’t. “Leave—aah—leave some for the baby,” he eventually manages to say, laughing between pleasured groans and gasps.

Steve pulls off and comes up to kiss him, tongue swiping past Bucky’s lips and leaving the taste of himself behind. Bucky’s breathing shakily by the time they part, and Steve’s eyes flit over his face. “You okay?” he asks, so sincere in his care for Bucky that it makes Bucky want to give him everything.

“Yes Alpha,” he whispers, reaching up with his flesh hand and cupping Steve’s jaw with it. “I just love you stupid-much, is all.”

“Stupid much?”

“Mm, yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

Steve surges down to kiss him thoroughly once more “See?” he teases, knocking their foreheads together. “All that moping didn’t curdle the milk after all.” Bucky huffs and swats at him, and Steve grins and rolls away. “Hang on one sec.” He gets up to undress, and by the time he’s crawling back into bed naked, Bucky’s kicked off his pajama pants as well. Steve slides right back into the cradle of his hips. Between their bellies, his cock is hard, but he makes no move to address it, focused on his mate instead. “What do you want tonight?” he asks gently, tracing Bucky's face on one side and then the other. “Hm? We can do anything you want. Whatever makes you feel good.”

Bucky softens, in love. That’s how it’s been these past four months: Steve being careful, trying so hard to respect any boundaries, to let Bucky take the lead as they find their way back to intimacy as husbands. Problem is, most days Bucky doesn’t know what he wants. He swallows thickly and rasps out a quiet, “I just wanna feel you.”

Steve hums. He tucks the recently-shortened strands of Bucky’s hair aside, eyes flicking from one ruined ear to the other, amazing Bucky with how his gaze never waivers with any hint of distaste at the mutilated flesh. It’s just love he sees in him. “I think that can be arranged.”

He kisses him, long and languid and indulgent, the kind of kiss that takes its time and never really escalates, more intimate than it has any right to be. By the time he’s kissing down Bucky’s body to put his mouth on his prick, Bucky’s a leaking, mewling mess.

“Ssteve,” he slurs as he watches his husband’s blond head of hair dip down between his legs and feels his mouth engulf him in sudden, overwhelming warmth. “Oh God.” Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he digs his skull back into the pillow, exhaling through clenched teeth at how good it feels. Steve hums from around his mouthful and Bucky hurriedly grasps at his hair. “Nnn, don’t,” he hisses, trying to calm down even as his hips are shoving up at Steve’s face. “Don’t hum like that, Jesus Christ.”

Steve laughs and pulls off to look up at him. He kisses Bucky’s cockhead and winks. “Sorry. I was just enjoying myself.” Keeping eye contact, he suckles and laves over just the head of Bucky’s dick, then uses his hold at the base to tap it against the flat of his tongue several times.

“Fuck.” Bucky pants and screws his eyes shut. “It’s been too long. I can’t hold it.”

“Who says you need to hold it?” Steve kisses his hipbone. “Cum as many times as you want to, Sweetheart. As many times as you need.”

Bucky groans. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” He goes back to Bucky’s cock, pushing hard at one of his thighs to force him to widen his legs even further. “There we go, good boy. Keep ‘em spread.”

Bucky peeks down at Steve and sees him staring at … everything.

Oh. … Oh.

He swallows nervously. It’s been over four months now, and he’s had the go-ahead from the doctor since all the way back at his six-week checkup, but Bucky’s still been self-conscious. They've resumed some recreational activities, but Steve still hasn’t asked to have sex yet. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s waiting for him to initiate. “H-how’s it looking down there?” he asks, trying to insert levity into his tone and failing pretty spectacularly. “Everything … everything good?”

“Mmm.” Steve caresses his balls, pushing them up and out of the way, feasibly so that he can stare at his perineum and further back to his weeping, clenching hole. “It’s winking at me,” he says, making Bucky’s face go red hot.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs, knocking his heel against Steve’s back halfheartedly. “How’s it … how’s it look?”

Steve hums and pretends to consider it very seriously, moving in even closer. “Looks perfect,” he says, a touch more arousal in his voice this time. And he’s so close now that Bucky can feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Steve’s finger touches just behind his balls and glides all the way back along his taint, up and down, tracing the line of where Bucky knows the stitches were. “All healed up,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “Pretty and pink.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry Steve, I’ve read all the reality check articles.”

“The what?”

“Stuff on the internet for new mothers. On how wrecked you are after giving birth. They say it’s especially rough on male O’s, and I’ve popped two of these things out, so.” He grimaces. “I think they have like, lasers or something that they can use to try and fix it, or at least make it look nicer.”

“What?” Steve sounds shocked. “Babe. What are you talking about?”

Bucky huffs, not wanting Steve’s false platitudes. “I’m just trying to be realistic, okay?” He squirms impatiently and refuses to look down at the alpha between his legs. “So? Does it look like … ya know, very messed up?”

Steve’s tensing shoulders and his low growl are the only warnings Bucky gets before his husband’s mouth is sealing itself straight over his taint and sucking ferociously, the accompanying rumble of his growl only intensifying the feeling.

Bucky yelps. “Holy fuck!” His body jolts in place, trying to bow off the bed, but Steve holds him still with strong arms wrapped around his thighs. “Sh-hit,” he gasps, “Steve!”

“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.” He surges back in, taking turns between tongue-fucking his hole and sucking on his rim as brutally as he can, making loud grunts and groans in the process that are very clearly meant to drive a point home. “Mmph, mmm, hhmph!”

Bucky gasps and keens, overwrought by Steve’s words just as much as he is by the feeling of his mouth. He doesn’t even consciously think about it as he grabs his cock and starts jerking off, Steve groaning loudly against his ass when he realizes what Bucky’s doing. It only takes another minute of that before he’s coming, riding Steve’s face as his cock pulses in his hand and wets up his belly in spurts of clear omega cum.

“Oh God, oh, ohh …” His breath hitches in broken moans as he rides the orgasm out. Then the pleasure wanes and he slowly comes back down to earth, panting and dazed, blinking up at nothing but the blank plaster of their bedroom ceiling …

Until Steve reappears in his field of vision, having climbed back up to lie over him once again. Bucky welcomes the press of his alpha’s heavy body on top of him, accepts the slick-tinged flavor of Steve’s tongue when he slots their mouths together and shoves inside, demanding and harsh. “That was number one,” he says, when he’s pulled back and is looking down at Bucky with a satisfied expression. “How many more you gonna give me tonight?”

Internally, Bucky curses. He curses, dies a little bit, and falls deeper in love all at the same time. Meanwhile, externally, he regains his breath and meets Steve’s hungry stare. “I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna wear me out more than the baby,” he says, aiming for a wry drawl but only achieving something that sounds breathless and wrecked instead. He sees Steve’s eyes darken the way they do whenever he’s issued a challenge, and knows he’s in for a hell of a night. “What’re you thinking?” he whispers.

“I’m thinking: I want to see that again, and again,” Steve rasps, voice gone to gravel. “Thinking I want to watch you lose control like that all the goddamn time. For the rest of my life.”

Bucky flushes. “Steve …”

“I’m thinking: that I want to make you feel good in every possible way there is to feel good.” His lips ghost over Bucky’s as he murmurs, “So that you know. Because you clearly don’t—”

“Steve …”

“And so that you never feel like you need to ask me a question about what you ‘look like’ ever again. Not on any part of your beautiful body.”

Bucky groans and tries to turn his face away, But Steve catches him and guides him back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Uh uh, Sweetheart. You listen to me. I want to make love to you. Until you can’t take it anymore, until you go soft and weak and cryin’ with it.” His hands start wandering over the peaks and valleys of Bucky’s body, caressing his skin. One hand moulds itself to the side of his neck, fingers playing over the texture of his bondmark, while the other glides down, pausing to stop and tweak a nipple, squeeze his waist, grab the fleshy curve of a hip. Very purposefully, he slides his hand to settle into place over his lower belly, hushing him when he feels him start to tense up. “Shh sh sh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Steve, I’m … it’s —”

“Shhh.” He nudges their noses together, chiding and affectionate all at once, because he knows which parts of his body Bucky is most self-conscious of. But he doesn’t move his hand from the territory it’s claimed. “I know,” he whispers. “I know how you feel. But that’s all wrong, baby. And I want to show you.” He kisses him again, only this time it’s tender, almost achingly so. He relents and pulls back. “That’s all, Honey. I just want to make you feel new things, good things. I want to show you. I need to show you.”

“Show me what?” Bucky whispers, but then Steve stares down at him in that dark and private way that he deeply, intimately recognizes, and he regrets having asked. Bucky trembles and closes his eyes. “Steve, please. You don’t have to …”

“Look at me,” Steve murmurs. He rests their foreheads together. “I just want you to understand, baby. That when I touch you here,"—his fingers curl possessively into the too-soft flesh of Bucky’s stomach—“I feel something so profound, so far beyond just love or arousal … that I don’t even know what to say to you. You understand? It hurts. I don’t have words for it.” He looks at him imploringly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful than you are to me right now.”

Bucky’s heart beats faster at the intimate confession. He tries to suck his stomach in, tries to tense his abdominals and make himself firm, but Steve tuts at him and pinches the side of his neck, right over his swollen glands. Bucky gasps, eyes shooting back up from where he’d been starting to look down between their bodies at Steve’s hand on him. “I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Steve says, and this time it’s in his Voice, the sound of it sending an instant shot of arousal down Bucky’s spine and into his core. His eyes must show it, too, because Steve smiles and purrs deep in his chest. “Yeah,” he encourages, still in the Voice that he so rarely uses with Bucky. “That’s right. Look up here at Alpha. Do as you’re told.”

Bucky licks his lips, aware that his cock is rapidly hardening again. “Steve,” he breathes shakily. “I —”

“Pull your knees up,” he murmurs, and Bucky obeys without a second thought. “Good boy.”

A chirp erupts from Bucky’s throat, unbidden, and he colors in surprise at the sound. “Alpha,” he says, because it’s the only word he can think to say.

Steve smiles and strokes over his bond mark with the roughened pad of a thumb. “Does it feel nice? Want more?”

Bucky nods, blinking, the effects of Steve’s Voice still singing in his veins like a drug. “Yeah.”

They hardly ever engage in Voiceplay. It’s something Bucky enjoys with his husband, but he’s had bad experiences with other alphas in the past; times when men who weren't Steve assaulted him with what should only ever be used as a tool of lovemaking. Steve knows this, and so he usually avoids Voicing with Bucky unless he knows that the circumstances are just right.

The circumstances are just right.

Bucky whimpers and reaches down impulsively to cover Steve’s hand where it rests on his belly, but not to pull it away. “Alpha,” he chirps again, fingers curling over Steve’s larger ones.

“This okay?” Steve checks, his eyes scanning his face for even a hint of discomfort.

But he finds none, and Bucky nods his head in fast approval. “Yeah, yes.”

It’s still achingly vulnerable, having Steve touching this soft, imperfect part of him; but it’s intimate, too, and Bucky wants more of that. He wants Steve to make love to him this way, an Alpha with his omega—capital A, lowercase o.

“S’been so long,” he breathes, his voice hitching as his emotions finally catch up with him. Ridiculously, he starts to feel tearful. He’s missed having this with his mate so much. “So long, Stevie.”

“Baby,” Steve coos. “Don’t cry.”

Bucky sniffles shyly and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, feeling stupid. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles.

Steve’s fingers massage his bond mark and he kisses his temple soothingly. The hand that was on his stomach snakes around, dipping underneath his lower back and tugging them even closer together. “You gonna let me?” he asks. “Gonna let Alpha make you cum again and again?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me give you another bite, make it a good one? Mark you up again for everybody to see?”

Bucky whines and nods, drawing his knees up, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips and tilting his pelvis to make himself available to his mate. “Please,” he begs. “Please, yes, Steve. I want it, please.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest and slots their mouths together in a brief, aggressive kiss, then pulls back swiftly and manhandles him onto his belly, pulling him up by the hips into presenting. Bucky cries out in surprise but goes willingly, widening his knees on the bed and pushing his ass back into Steve’s groping hands. “Good boy,” Steve praises, Voice dipping down into that register that’s low and rumbly and lets Bucky know that his Alpha is very pleased with him.

Bucky grunts and wiggles happily until Steve’s hand appears at the back of his neck and pushes down: a wordless, forceful ‘Stay’ that makes him shiver and whine with impatience. “Nnnh.”

The hand flattens at his nape and slowly drags down the length of his spine, appreciative and greedy. “Aw, Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, hips rocking forward. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect, y’hear me?” He curses quietly as he digs his fingers into the fat of Bucky’s hips, watches his cock dragging through the wet valley of his ass. “Jesus wept, Honey. Lookit you. Wet dream come to fucking life, I swear.”

Steve only curses this much when he’s incredibly turned on, and the knowledge that it’s his doing has Bucky slicking up even worse than before. He whines and scrubs his face against the bedding as he feels his hole pulse and leak, the slick tickling as it trails down his taint and balls. “Steve,” he pleads, relieved when Steve grabs his hips and continues to take control.

“Shh, s’okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Gonna take it slow.” His fingers appear at his backside, slipping through all the slick, wetting them up in him. He starts to press in with one finger. “Real slow,” he murmurs. He fucks him on just that one finger, for far longer than he would normally do, taking his time in Bucky’s body, in relearning this touch with him. Bucky makes a miserable noise against the bedsheets and Steve hums, pleased. “Yeah? How’s that feel, Sweetheart?”

Bucky whines and nods, his cheek dragging on the sheets. He feels Steve curling over him, his chest pressing up against his back and then the finger sliding deeper. Bucky moans as it grazes over his prostate. “Oh, God.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s breath hits right at his ear. He plants his left forearm alongside Bucky’s, holding himself up as he fingers him. Right next to Bucky’s face, their pinky fingers hook together, flesh over metal. Steve kisses the shell of his ear and whispers, “Bucky, honey. You’re so swollen inside, I can feel it.” He strokes his finger, curling gently over that spot that makes Bucky’s vision go blotchy. “I want you to cum like this first,” he whispers. “On my hand a couple’a times. Right on Alpha’s fingers. Okay?”

Bucky sobs and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Steve, please.” He can feel the orgasm coalescing already, the pleasure of Steve’s finger pulling him closer on every pass. “Please, please.”

“Shhh. Remember: slow,” he reminds him, and Bucky’s guts twist up in further delicious arousal and frustration. Steve doesn’t try to edge him, though. He lets him have it, working him up to it steadily, not rushing, kissing his neck again and again as he fucks him on one finger and then two.

That added fullness is what makes Bucky unravel, his body pulsing as he gasps and suddenly falls into his second orgasm.

Steve talks him through it, never stopping the whispered encouragements against his ear: “There we go. That’s it, baby, that’s it. So good.”

Bucky collapses to his stomach, and Steve follows him down, gently nudging his knees inside of Bucky’s to make a space for himself. Bucky complies, boneless from his climax. “Stevie,” he slurs.

“Right here, baby.” He presses up all along his back, covering him with warmth. “I’m right here.” His hands slide up Bucky’s arms and cover his hands at either side of his head. Bucky moans quietly as Steve laces their fingers together and gives a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He rolls his hips, cock slotting into place. “You’re so wet.”

“Y-yeah.”

Steve rocks leisurely against him and Bucky hums at how slick it is, enjoying the intimacy of rubbing together full-body. He lets his eyes slip closed as he soaks it all in: Steve’s heavy weight, his scent, the scratch of his beard and the heat of his breath in the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” Steve drags his lips over the sensitive skin of his bondmark. “Can I fuck you, baby?” he asks softly. “You want that, hm? Want Alpha inside of you?”

Bucky is glad that Steve can’t see his face, because his eyes are wet from pleasured, overly-emotional tears, and this way he doesn’t have to bother being embarrassed over what a sap this pregnancy has turned him into. He nods and scrubs his cheek against the bedcovers. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, Steve. Please.”

Steve hums and kisses him once more, before he reaches down and lines his cock up, dragging the head wetly across his rim a few times with increasing pressure, until it catches. Bucky tenses, because it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and because the last event of real significance that involved his asshole had been childbirth, but Steve soothes him with a sucking kiss to his bondmark. “Relax,” he murmurs, pushing in at the same time and making Bucky gasp softly. “Shh, there you go. See?”

“Ohh.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he’s slowly filled. “Steve.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s hips kiss his ass as he sinks home all the way. “Juust like that,” he purrs, grinding against him and staying deep inside. “S’it feel nice?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky breathes, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed at how full he is. “Yeah, Stevie … oh …”

Steve chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he whispers, before he experiments with moving a little more. He keeps pulsing his hips, rocking languidly, gradually building up to a slow pace.

He fucks him gently then, not pulling back to get on his knees or gain any kind of leverage. Instead he stays close, deep; plastered to his back and dragging his cock against his sensitive insides over and over so perfectly. When it pulls a tortured moan from Bucky's throat, Steve encourages him with soft, sucking kisses against his glands. “S’okay.”

“God, Steve.”

“Uh huh. Juust like that. I remember how you like it. Alpha's got you, baby.” Steve sounds like he’s getting close, too, voice laboured as he grunts against Bucky’s neck. “You gonna, ugh, gonna cum again, mamma?”

Bucky whines and nods. “This time,” he begs. “Please, please. Do it.”

The two of them share a bond, and that’s probably the main reason why Steve’s able to tell what he means.

He doesn’t disappoint, either, fucking him smoothly right into another orgasm and timing it perfectly. As soon as Bucky’s body goes rigid and his breath stutters in his throat, Steve’s biting down hard over his bondmark, breaking the skin and piercing the swollen glands beneath. Bucky sobs and comes harder and longer than he has in a long time, crying from how impossibly good it feels.

It’s compounded by the sudden groan that Steve lets out and the rapid inflation of his knot, as the bite sets him off as well: “Nngh!”

While Steve is stuck inside him and lost to his own pleasure, Bucky’s able to rock himself to one more, toe-curlingly delicious orgasm before he finally lets himself go boneless on the bed, fully sated. He knows when Steve is done coming, because the alpha becomes more attentive again, his hands running over Bucky like he’s checking him for injuries sustained. If Bucky hadn’t just come four times, he might've been able to spare a chuckle over it. “Hey,” he says instead. “M’fine, babe.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds pleased. He gives his hips a lazy roll against Bucky’s ass and nuzzles his freshly-bitten bondmark, groaning at the pheromones that hit him. He licks a big, fat swipe over it with his tongue, groaning and making Bucky hiss. “Mmm," he murmurs. "You’re bleeding."

“Duh.”

Steve growls. “Be nice to your Alpha,” he Voices, and Bucky shivers pleasantly. Steve notices the reaction and gloats. “Hmm. Maybe we should start biting more often.”

“How often?” Bucky’s halfway through a yawn as he says it, and he feels Steve shrug against his back.

“Once a month?”

He chokes. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve’s snickering. “I like a well-scarred bondmark. S’romantic.”

“It’s fucking primeval is what it is, you caveman.” Bucky scolds, rolling his eyes. He clenches down purposefully hard on Steve’s knot, smiling at the surprised—Hngnn!—he gets for it. “We already do it on our anniversary every year.”

“And sometimes on Valentine’s,” Steve supplies.

“Exactly. Any more than that and people’ll think we have a fetish.”

“Well, maybe we do,” he purrs, kissing the bite. “And it is what the medical professionals are recommending, after all.”

“Ha, yeah.”

“... You’re really okay though?” Steve checks. “None of that bothered you? The Voicing, or the—”

“Shh. No. I loved it.” Bucky lets his eyes fall closed. He can still feel his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, bringing the delicious ache and throb of his glands to the forefront. “Every part of it,” he sighs.

Steve laces their fingers together. “Good. ‘Cause I take doctor's orders very seriously, you know.” He rumbles deep in his chest and gives a dirty grind against their tie. “We gotta keep you healthy, Buck. Gotta make sure you’re properly … stimulated.”

“You suck so bad,” Bucky groans. “Your permission to know my medical information is rescinded.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I can dick you down again in like, an hour, if you want? Probably. Two hours, tops.”

Bucky yawns, humming as he pretends to consider it. “Tempting offer, but how ‘bout you cuddle me ‘till I pass out, instead?” he says, because he really does think the other night was a fluke, and that he’s destined to be awakened by a baby monitor within the next few hours. Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls them to lie on their sides. They spoon like that and enjoy the closeness while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down. Bucky gets goosebumps when Steve starts caressing lazily up and down his side. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Mmhm.” Steve slots his fingers into the trigger points for the prosthetic. “Let’s take this off,” he whispers, kissing the shell of his ear.

It’s Bucky’s fucked up ear—a place where he’s usually squirmy and uncomfortable about Steve touching, let alone kissing, but right now it doesn’t bother him at all. Too many endorphins surging through his system, he supposes.

“Okay,” he agrees, since he doesn’t really love sleeping with the arm on anyway (he’s got this paranoia that one day he’ll sleep-punch Steve in the middle of a nightmare or something), and then lies there and listens to the sounds that the arm makes as it’s triggered to disengage from his body. He can’t actually feel anything other than some vague, mechanical movements deep in the arm’s very internal workings. It doesn’t hurt. And then it comes off, a sudden release of weight and tension that Bucky hadn’t even realized was there. He moans quietly at the feeling. “Nnh. Thanks Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve sets the arm out of the way and resumes his gentle stroking and caressing along Bucky's side, venturing up higher to where the anchor site for the arm begins, implanted permanently into his body.

Bucky can sense his husband looking down at it, can feel the pads of his fingers exploring thoughtfully over the texture of scars and metal edging. He sighs, feeling wistful. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like, if we’d met before?”

Behind him, Steve stills. He’s quiet for a long moment, and just when Bucky thinks he’s not going to answer at all, his caressing starts back up again and he hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sometimes, in a general way," he admits. "But then ... it wouldn't be the you I fell in love with, would it? We wouldn’t be us.” He worms his other arm under his waist and hugs them closer together. “Maybe we’d have less nightmares between the two of us, less therapy,"

Bucky snorts.

"But I wouldn’t choose anything but this. Nothing would be the same if we hadn't met the way we did, y'know? You probably would’ve stayed in college, focused on your career, maybe put off kids too long. I wouldn't have joined Shield, Peggy wouldn't have moved away.” He kisses the ruined edge of Bucky’s ear again, so tender and slow that Bucky knows he’s doing it intentionally. “Just think: Becca wouldn’t exist. And we wouldn’t have Sarah or Gabe, 'cause you and I never would’ve met.”

“We might’ve.”

“Mm, doubtful.”

Bucky grumbles, displeased at that hypothetical, and Steve hugs him and coos in agreement, “Shh. I know, I know. That would be awful. I’m just saying: you can’t trade the good for the bad. It’s a package deal. And you know what? I’m happy with my package.” He seals his mouth to the fresh bite wound and gives a powerful suck, popping off with a wet sound and a pleased growl. “Very very happy with my package.”

Bucky’s too gooey and in love and fucked out to get the delivery just right, but he at least manages to wiggle his butt against their tie and mutter out a tired but saucy little, “Mmm, yeah. I like your package, too.”

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