#so he just keeps it a secret while fully intending to reveal it after the war is over and THEN leave

[munsonsmixtapes]

Camping with Tyler and the wranglers and teasing him all day prancing around in a bikini and getting touchy with Boone and then at the end of the night Tyler as punishment Tyler gags you and makes you come over and over until you’re squirming and can’t take anymore and then sweet aftercare and he cuddles you to sleep 🤷‍♀️ just sayin

dom!Tyler x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) choking, fingering, finger sucking

Camping had been your idea. That had been the only reason why Tyler had even agreed to it. He liked it as a whole, but sometimes, spending that much time with his crew was a lot. They were all loud and sometimes it was overstimulating. But since you had suggested it, he was going to go along with it because of how much he loved you. He was always willing to give you whatever you wanted, no questions asked.

That was until he saw you spending a lot of time with Boone. The two of you were laughing and playing in the lake, and even though he knew that neither of you would actually do anything other than be friendly with each other, he couldn't help but feel angry. Jealous. The whole thing upset him to no end and he was taking it out everyone, his happy attitude that he always seemed to have when he was around you had completely turned sour.

But what Tyler didn't know what that you had been wearing that tiny bikini for him. It was his favorite color and everything and you had bought it for the sole purpose of him taking it off. Boone wasn't even supposed to be a pawn in your little game, but when he had been joking around with you, you decided that it was the perfect way to get Tyler's attention.

He had been so busy the past few weeks that you had barely seen him. The two of you were simply friends with benefits, but that didn't mean you weren't allowed to miss him And you had missed him, fully intending on showing him how much.

Tyler was washing dishes from dinner while he angrily watched Boone chase you around the camp site as you held his shirt over your head, giggling as he tried to keep up with you, asking for it back. The two of you weren't together so why did he care if you were hanging out with Boone? All you had been to each other was just another body and he wasn't going to admit that he was kind of hurt by the fact that you had moved on.

And he couldn't even tell anyone why he was upset because you both had decided to keep the whole arrangement between the two of you. It was your little secret and he would have been lying if he had said that he didn't think it was hot.

Tyler managed to wash the dishes without breaking any of them then hurried to his tent to go to bed since you clearly weren't paying him any attention. He knew that he was like a baby, but he couldn't help it. You were supposed to sneak into his tent after everyone went to sleep and he was fully intending on teaching you a lesson.

Unbeknownst to him, you had been keeping an eye on Tyler all day. You didn't realize how easy it was to make him jealous and you fully intended on apologizing, showing him just how sorry you were for hurting his feelings by doing whatever he asked, fully prepared to submit.

Once you were sure that everyone else was asleep, you slowly snuck over to Tyler's tent, unzipping it quickly as to not make any more noise that you needed to. Once the tent was open, you slipped inside, zipping it back before turning to Tyler who was angrily scrolling on his phone.

You took it from him and settled yourself into his lap, moving his hands to your waist before wrapping your arms around his neck. You buried your face into it, pressing kisses to the spot, knowing exactly what to do to get him to forgive you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured against his skin moving up to his lips, giving them a peck. "Really sorry. You're just really hot when you're jealous." Another kiss before you removed your hoodie to reveal your bare chest. "And I've been thinking about fucking you all day," you whined, grinding against him. How was he supposed to be mad at you when you were sitting on his lap looking so pretty, doing that?

You continued to grind on him, but Tyler put it to a stop by pushing you so that your back hit his air mattress. He then pinned you down to it by grabbing hold of your neck as he slid himself inside you, taking no time to pound into you, squeezing your neck as you moaned. Once he saw that he was doing it too tight, he removed his hand and his hands went to his boxers that you had been wearing as sleep shorts.

He removed them then your underwear then raised his middle and ring fingers of his right hand before shoving them inside you, causing you to let out a gasp at the sudden movement. His fingers pumped and he could see how easily they slipped in and out of you, knowing that he needed to say something about it.

"Look how wet you are. Been thinking about me all day, hm?" He asked. "Even when you were with Boone?" His tone was teasing, you you could still hear a hint of jealousy in it.

"I'm always thinking about you," you replied. "About how much I need you."

"Then maybe next time you should tell me instead of trying to make me jealous."

"You're just mad because it worked." He hated how you were always able to read him like a book better than the people he had known for years.

"Getting cocky, hm?" He asked. "You know that I love when you act like a brat, don't you? Gives me a reason to punish you."

His fingers moved harder and faster and you let out a moan as your fingers gripped the sleeping bag underneath you, already feeling yourself getting close.

"Harder," you whined. "Please."

"Alright, but only because you asked nicely." His fingers moved the hardest and fastest they could before they curved, hitting just the right spot to make you come. He kept them there, feeling himself getting even harder as you came, an orgasm coursing through you as you screamed. Normally, he would have been worried about his friends hearing you, but now he kind of liked the idea of them knowing the reason why you weren't able to walk in the morning.

With his free hand, he grabbed a condom from his backpack before handing it to you. You removed his boxers for him then opened the condom before rolling it onto him.

Tyler removed his fingers from you then hovered them over your mouth, wanting to see you lick your slick clean from them.

"Open," he commanded and you did as he asked, opening wide as he pushed them so far down your throat that you began to gag. "C'mon, suck on them."

You did as he asked, sucking on his fingers, closing your eyes as you swirled your tongue around them, making sure to moan dramatically to show him who was really the boss in the situation. You closed your eyes to really drive it home even though you wanted to see him lose his shit over watching you.

"Mmm," you moaned, hoping that he couldn't tell that you weren't faking, getting the very last bit of your slick from his fingers. Apparently he could tell because he shoved his fingers further into your mouth, so far that the tips were almost down your throat, making you gag even more.

He then lined himself up with you before pounding into you, making sure to put all of himself inside you every time. He could hear your muffled moans and that wasn't enough for him. He needed to hear it loud and clear even though he knew exactly what they sounded like even when you weren't fucking.

He took his fingers out of your mouth before pinning your wrists to the air mattress, continuing to pound into you as you cried for him, clenching around his cock as you took all of him, deciding that if this was your punishment, you were going to have to piss him off more often.

"Oh god," you mewled, feeling like you were being ripped apart, but eating up every second. You didn't mind as long as he was going to carry you everywhere the next day. "Tyler, fuck."

"That's right," he replied. "Look how easily you take all of me." His cock slammed into you over and over, watching you come undone underneath him, your back arching, signaling that you were close.

Your vision clouded as you screamed, his name falling from your lips and he fully intended to keep going, wanting to make you come over and over, begging for more until you were limp in his arms, absolutely drunk from his cock.

Tyler kept up his pace, moving to fast that he could his ball slapping against your cunt. He squelching of it because of how wet you were and that mixed with your delicious moans was enough for him to almost come himself. And he finally arrived, something reminiscent of a scream falling from his own lips, but he had no intention of stopping even though you both had come.

He could see it, the hunger in your eyes as he fucked you, wanting more even he was doing the most he could, feeling the sweat dripping down his body because of how much work he had been putting in.

You clenched around him again, your legs pin straight as you stretched them out, your toes curling as your heels dug into the mattress. You hands moved up to his back scratching down it as he continued to slam into you over and over, seeing that you were crying for him again, your third orgasm on the rise.

You came again and again and as soon as Tyler watched you go limp, your hands slipping from him. He could see that you were goind dumb on him and he decided to pull out.

He disposed of the condom and cleaned the both of you up with the towels that he had brought for just that. Tyler would never admit that he loved the aftercare part of sex. At least, he loved it with you. He loved getting the both of you cleaned up then snuggling with you afterwards, hearing your soft breathing as you fell asleep in his arms.

He helped you get into his sleeping bag, not even caring that you were practically on top of each other as he pulled you into his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you both feel asleep.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Since we had a Bloom post, might as well: what were the reactions to the Icy Reveal from the wider cast, and who learned what and when?

Okay so there's two kinda halves of this which is people learning about her mom vs. people learning about her dad.

Also for simplicity: Mom's name is Blizzeta, Dad's name is Inverno. Also for simplicity is a short rundown on them for anyone who's new/hasn't been down the tags.

Blizzeta kinda replaces the 'Ancestral Witches', as she's not like. Some ancient deity. She's just a normal, though powerful, Witch. And lead a group of other powerful beings in a quest to become even more powerful and rule over everyone.

Inverno is currently King of Dyamond. In my rewrite it's actually not a cursed planet at all, it's just snowy like that. His current wife is Crystal, and they have a daughter named Sapphire.

So who learns what when:

Icy herself always knew about her mother. She's aware of the legacy and was in an environment that made her feel that she had to finish what she started.

Icy tells Darcy and Stormy some time during their years at Cloud Tower. Like when they've bonded and she trusts them enough to let them in on her secrets and plan their future together of finishing what was started.

Most of the Winx and Specialists find out when they take that trip to Domino at the end of Season 1. Because uh. I kinda made this episode very dark in both the fact that I'm keeping most of the population dead, but also because of the eternal winter curse the bodies are still there and preserved quite well.

Anyway they get to see Blizzeta's preserved body and she and Icy look almost just alike so it's easy to connect the dots for them.

Which also kinda connects the dots of 'oh so that's why she's Like That™' even if they don't have the whole picture.

Not sure when the members who weren't in Season 1 find out.

Now there's no reveals up until Season 3 with Inverno.

Because Icy never knew exactly who her father was. She has vague memories of stuff her mom told her when she was very little, but she was literally a toddler it's fuzzy.

Anyway!

During Season 3 the plots include 1.) Bloom trying to figure out ways to fix Domino, and 2.) Icy low-key stalking Bloom to cause problems. So when Bloom goes to Dyamond hoping on a planet of snow and ice would know how to dispel a blizzard, Icy followed.

Icy gets temporarily captured during the events here, which involves her meeting Inverno. He sees her, clocks the whole 'ah shit Blizzeta's her mom...... oh FUCK she's my kid???' thing. Icy is both shocked but also like. It makes enough sense that she doesn't question it. She can see the family resemblance. She remembers some things her mom said that now make sense. She can tell that her mother likely intended to use this connection, but didn't get the chance.

At least Bloom is here during that conversation(idk if the others are or if they're all kinda off on their own more this season.). And she's.... so unsure what to think of it but hey she- she knows what it's like to suddenly find out you have a royal bloodline and all so she Gets It™ in a way. But also like. Girl are you okay?

Sapphire is listening in on the conversation because she's a curious little fucker. While she's not like, a baby. She's still a good bit younger and really is only thinking about the fact that she has a sister now.

The rest of the Winx+ would find out after Bloom reunites with them and updates them on that hot mess. And yeah there's a bit of concern on it because Icy is.... hasn't fully hit the 'dragged to the good side' bit (this is what really kicks it off for her), so they're mostly concerned with what she'll do about it. Also the other Royals are spitballing on what exactly Blizzeta's plan had been re: making Icy.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

morgana finds akechi first huh :eyes: that's an interesting concept! would this be before all the mental shutdowns have taken place? is wakaba a key character? any elaborations would be cool :>

That would be a really interesting and cool way to take the AU (and I think I've seen others with AUs along those lines) but I actually take it in a bit of a different direction. So sadly, no, Morgana doesn't find Goro that early on or stop him from joining Shido/enacting his stupid ass plan to take him down.

Basically, only about six months before the start of the game, Morgana and Goro happen upon each other at some point, most likely in Mementos. Morgana immediately wants to recruit Goro, especially when he learns Goro is relatively popular and can access more of Mementos than he can, which would help him figure out how to regain his true form. Goro is having absolutely none of this, but Morgana helps him out of a difficult fight and actually has some knowledge about the Metaverse that he doesn't (like how he has healing skills and knowledge about infiltration tools, etc) so he reluctantly admits to himself that it might not be a bad idea for him to use Morgana for his own gain too.

When Morgana finds out Goro is killing people he doesn't outright object to it but he does keep going on about how there's a "better way" and he has this idea about creating a team that will change hearts and reform society and Goro is having absolutely none of that shit, he works alone thank you very much (conveniently ignoring the fact that he is currently working with a not-cat-being).

The two keep meeting up in the Metaverse, mostly initiated by Morgana but Goro tolerates it only because he always brings something useful and carries his own weight. Over time a very uneasy alliance forms between Morgana and Goro, who both fully believe they are merely using the other for their own gain but very secretly and slowly getting attached. Goro keeps his true plans a secret from Morgana (he just knows Goro works for Someone and that people keep mysteriously dying or going on rampages after his trips into the Metaverse) and Morgana is also pretty cagey about his own past (not having any memories doesn't exactly help).

After a few months (so around February 2016) Morgana moves in with Goro and slowly starts to get more concerned about him, while Goro starts to grow fond of the cat he's now caring for, but both of them are in deep, deep, deep denial about this. Goro is genuinely intrigued by this change of heart deal but he's not sure about where he stands on it morally, and he doesn't want to work with anyone else or make Shido suspicious. But if what Morgana is saying is true, it could be a very interesting experiment at the very least. But he still refuses to actually suggest they try it out.

One day in the early spring Morgana leaves the house and doesn't come back. He'd told Goro he planned on checking out a new Palace he found in an attempt to experiment with this change of heart idea he has and Goro refused to come along with him. Finally, worried about Morgana's safety, Goro follows him into that Palace, which of course, is Kamoshida's.

Both of them end up captured and Goro is thrown in the same cell alongside Morgana, and Akira and Ryuji find the two of them Very Loudly bickering in the cell over whose fault it is that they ended up here (Morgana argues that Goro shouldn't have gotten reckless and gotten himself captured by confronting Kamoshida's Shadow head-on by himself while Goro argues Morgana shouldn't have come here alone and given Goro no choice but to try to find him, both of them completely ignoring the implications of these arguments and how they reveal their weaknesses and care for each other).

And long story short Goro ends up joining the Thieves from day one by complete accident. He functions as a double agent for the first two Palaces, fully intending to eventually betray them all, but over time he's slowly won over as he forms bonds, and by the time Makoto joins he realizes he's let adults manipulate him too and decides fuck it--his loyalty is with the Thieves after all.

I haven't worked out exactly how it'd go down but eventually he'd stop taking orders from Shido, probably doing something like fake his death somehow, and join the Thieves for real, eventually taking down Shido along with them.

[colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl]

🎉🎊🎁 As a gift Here's some Character Doodle Sketch Art!!!🎁🎉🎊

I haven't outlined it with pen, so it wont be as clear. But heres some sketch concept art I made last week.

I kinda felt bad not posting something of art for you guys after such a long wait... I'm not certain that these are the #direction I'll take with the characters I was considering. It's more concept sketch

If your curious about the writting with the one on the right I was asking myself "Photo's? Instead of Ahhsie? ...or ??? (???=Meaning "someone/Who?)"

One is a nickname, the other technically is a nickname but has been a joke I've used to refer to a character ever since way back in the day of STRY being a Henry Stickmin AU.

No "Ahhsie" isn't a reference to calling someone a Aussie. Although. I've considered it. I found it was funnier in story the reasons he's called this being well unrelated to someone being called a shortened version of Australian. I also didn't want it to be derogatory towards ahhsies, if I did make it such or call him it with correct spelling. I've put alot of thought into thsi nickname with concern on this matter.

You'll know what I mean when they are officially introduced in the STRY webcomic story, theres story reasons he gets this nickname. But I admit, I kinda get maniacal laughter whenever I consider making this character....😅😅😅😏😏😏 for.... no particular reasons...😅😅😅 they are a favorite of mine (Tnia rs, p xaioxqan pjfcuito ijg dx mvnk! Uhqawshn! EBQS UAJYH! RVOT SJUVZ! MNHGPHQAWSHNHGI!!!)... just... 😈 make me so giddy I can't help laughing heavily when thinking of them... it's normal I swear...!😅

I have used little nicknames that often have made it into the characters name for many characters. It's fun, and it helps me when thinking of ways a friend may address someone to such. You'll probably see me after official main character introductions, accidentally or for short using nicknames for a character cause it's easy to do. But I'll try my best to refrain so I don't confuse you guys.

I'm not sure I'm using either of these for the characters I was thinking of. I was playing around with an idea that came to me. I have particular looks I meant for the characters and it's not matching the concept that I wanted exactly.... Its similar just not quiet hitting the notes I'm aiming for. I did have certain concepts here that I think I'm exaggerating more. But this did give me things I liked that may make it into one or both. Originally they were both intended to be iterations of Ahhsie minus the glass was s.... and was Photo's for at least one fo them. I like the glasses for Photos but I cabt be certain. I kinda may play with a few more looks for him. I've got a phew ideas headed in kinda different directions for both. Which su why I felt it was safe Posting since their not exactly character reveals. I may use the faces for background characters on occassion.

Also😅 if you cant tell, this paper I doodled on is like super old. Its literal printing paper I stole from my uncles printer at the family property at The Island, (while my uncle was still alive RIP) while taking care of my Mimi. It sat with a few sketches in it the last few years. Recently I've taken to fully doodling every empty space of it. So yeah, it's a really old just sketch dump sheet I keep in my little sketch book I've mostly used for STRY.

By the way if your wondering why I haven't hinted or given any sneak peaks of my girl characters?

Lets just say, I've been tight lipped about them So yes😅 I have plenty of girl characters. Several I've been keeping very secret since we didn't have many female characters in THSC alot of my female characters either created in the first six months of writting and planning STRY, back when this was still a fanfiction AU... or after that fact... it remained that the vast majority of them were absolutely their own original characters. Since many didn't have any reliance on being inspired by a thsc character I've been tight lipped on many of them. But I really like the designs I have for them. Especially a certain 🦋.🤫🤭😊 Been holding onto her final design since November. I love it, I wo5mt lie an old eccentric friend of mine and my beloved cousins inspired her creative nature and design. She's one I've been itching to show you guys for a while. Can't wait till I do.

[syringia]

Public vs Private Knowledge of Vivian Lilac — Legends / Hisui Verse

Public knowledge — Hisui Things anyone would know about Vivian either by word of mouth or simply asking him. 

Vivian is a traveling pokemon researcher. He tends to be found where there are sightings of rarer pokemon.

He comes from wealth — his family has an established name in Kalos. 

He's on decent terms with Laventon, though his interest in his research seems to be the main reason. It's plainly obvious their personalities don't mesh well. 

While he doesn't settle into an established home or lab in Hisui, he has a traveling case for equipment he claims is his own lab. He hasn't actually opened said case in town. 

Hisui was meant to be a short stop for him, but he hung around after hearing the stories about the deified pokemon. 

Much of his public work that he's published and shared has to deal with the early genetics research of the time. Early works refer to his parents’ talonflame breeding. Later work tends toward wild pokemon.

His ampharos is rather aggressive, so he lets her roam outside of town. The only pokemon he allows to spend time in the pastures is his reuniclus. His chandelure and talonflame stick with him. 

He didn't have many friends during his academy days. Many of his former classmates speak of how he became less social as time went on.

When not in town, he traverses the wilds and sets up camp in remote areas. 

Semi-public information — Hisui  Things he will reveal after some time known, or found by doing some digging. 

He's done quite a bit of research on his own pokemon. His reuniclus is his crowning achievement. While he doesn't fully understand what he did to change his coloration, he wants to recreate the results. 

He will often catch wild pokemon only to let them go after a bit of prodding. Such is how he collects data. 

Many of his peers back home roll their eyes at his research. Some claim it's a waste of time. 

If asked, he will gladly bring out his unpublished papers and journals of research. Some may seem incomplete, as he hides some. 

He hasn't spoken to his family in years, not out of any bad blood, but rather due to his travels. He does intend to head back to Kalos one day. 

Private knowledge — Hisui  Things he keeps private. Good luck getting it out of him. 

His goal is to find mew. As the ancestor to all pokemon, it would be a goldmine for his research. It's why he travels so much.

The main reason he's stayed in Hisui so long has been the rumors of Arceus. While his interest is mainly in mew, the idea of a true creation pokemon has him intrigued. He's not stupid enough to challenge it or outright ask it to sit still for him while he prods it, but just a sighting might be inspiration. 

If given the chance he'd absolutely take samples from Arceus. 

He's scrubbed other people's names from his research findings, if they've offered help. Any research published is solely under his name.

He has burned bridges with some other professors in the past. Thankfully word travels slow in these times, and he's usually able to outpace the warnings sent of him. 

Currently he's banned from an academy in Galar for being part of a major altercation. While he never physically harmed anyone, he allowed Begonia to attack one of the other professors. 

The fight was over being discovered that he'd been stealing research from a fellow professor who he'd been involved with. The almost-relationship was a cover for him to get close.  

He'd willingly do it again. Getting close to someone is just a stepping stone to getting their secrets to him. 

Other — Things people from the future may know.

His lineage is directly linked to Malva of the Elite Four in Kalos. Someone versed in ancestry could probably plot the line and find the exact relation.

The name of Professor Lilac is recorded in books on genetics and biology. 

Much of his private work has been lost to time. There are a few people who'd love to dig it up.

A few of his papers and belongings are in a museum in Kalos. One paper has a sketch of a tablet pertaining to mew. However, most of his mew research is lost. 

[queeniecook]

"Beyond The Sea" - Part 3

We arrived in Sulani and relaxed by the beach for a bit. I ended up taking a short nap. I couldn't help it, it's so peaceful there.

Then we had a snack. I love the grilled fruit. It's become one of my favorite things to eat.

After we waited a little bit to get into the water, I jumped on a jet ski. It was just floating in the water. I wasn't going to steal it. Just borrow it. Even if I had never driven one before, I felt like going for it.

It was actually fun. I drove around on it for about fifteen minutes, before getting off of it because Pak wanted to go swimming together.

I was still curious what he wanted to show me. But I hadn't pestered him about it. Luckily, I wouldn't have to wait long from that moment.

"Okay, just a little deeper and I'll show you." He said. I could tell he was getting nervous. That made me nervous. What did he want to show me in the middle of the ocean? I was confused.

Then Pak motioned for me to stop. He moved out in front of me and dived into the water. I floated there, staring at the water. Confused.

When he came back up, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Pak had a tail. A colorful tail. And he was able to dive in and out of the water quickly. Not something an ordinary human could do.

I was stunned. My brain was going faster than the rest of me could keep track of.

Pak swam back by me and made a noise that sound like, well. A dolphin. And then a actual dolphin came up out of the water and Pak was playing with it. I watched in awe.

"This is my friend Shimmer. I've known him since he was a baby." Pak explained.

After Pak gave Shimmer a fish, the dolphin swam away to join some other dolphins.

"I'm a mermaid, Evie. Well. Merman to be more specific." Pak told me. "I'm the one you saw on my Birthday. I guess. I wanted to see how you'd react to any of us in general." He admitted. "And for the record, you actually did very well."

I nodded, letting things sink in fully. It had to take a lot for him to reveal what he is to me. I also wondered if in some places, it was dangerous for him to be made known.

Pak swam closer to me and pulled me close, kissing me slowly. The kiss was different. Almost, magical in a way. Pak pulled away and looked at me. "I've wanted to tell you for a while. We really aren't supposed to tell humans, unless we truly trust them and intend to become mates with them."

Mates? I blushed. It was also touching to hear that he trusts me. He had to, to reveal his true nature to me.

"I won't tell anyone." I assured him. And I wouldn't. Maybe I'd tell my cats, but who would they tell? No one.

We got out of the water and hung out around the bonfire someone built on the beach.

"Pak." I said, softly. I looked over at him. "I want you to know that this doesn't scare me off. It changes the way I feel about you." I said and I could see the look in his eyes, he was worried. "Not in a bad way though. It's in a good way. It makes me feel closer to you."

It really did. He trusted me with his secret. I wasn't going to let him down.

We spent a few more hours on the beach, building sandcastles and watching the fire until we went back to my house. He fell asleep on my couch and I, in my bed.

I woke up the next morning, happy to see him still there.

Evie." Pak said, taking my hand. He was reminding me of a gentleman from old England.

I loved it. I giggled and I wasn't one of those women who go around giggling all the time.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" Pak asked me, looking into my eyes while still holding my hand.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. I didn't have to think about it.

I pulled him close to me and kissed him. I was so happy. I never thought I would find someone. I never believed it would happen.

We posed for a picture, but it wasn't for my social media account. It wasn't to get me attention. It was for us. For our memories. It was just ours.

<-previous

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

[animeomegas]

Omega!Kaidou Headcanons

Anon:  Ooooh can you do omega kaido hcs?

(Aww, I love Kaidou, he is baby. I just finished all my uni work for the week so I jumped to write this! Enjoy!)

Warnings: N-sfw under cut, mpreg, talk of insecurities.

General:

Kaidou is quite an insecure omega. Especially as a teenager.

Honestly, he has probably tried to masquerade as a beta before, and wished many times that he was an alpha like his younger brother and sister.

A lot of his façade as the ‘Jet Black Wings’ is a defence mechanism because of his insecurities and him being an omega fuels that.

Kaidou can be wary around alphas he doesn’t know, so it’s likely that you were friends first and romantic a long time afterwards.

When you are finally mates/almost mates, you see a completely different side to Kaidou.

He is incredibly touch starved. He loves cuddles and pets. He’ll take any affection you dish out. He especially loves resting his head on your lap or on your shoulder.

Kaidou wants to be an author when he’s older, and he has never had anyone support his dream. When you offer your support for him, he falls in love with you right then and there. That’s when he knew he wanted you to be his alpha.

His scent is light and flowery, with a hint of citrus.

Kaidou purrs a lot without realising and it always embarrasses him when you point it out. He purrs everytime you scent him, croon, cuddle him, etc. 

Kaidou is a very sweet omega who is a dedicated and loving mate and parent. 

Nesting:

As a teenager, Kaidou never gets to the point where he likes his nest. 

He wants a super cool nest! A combo between a ‘secret lair’ style and a ‘pinterest’ style nest.

He wants a room dedicated to his nest, preferably with a hidden entrance. He wants a super powerful colour scheme with cool posters but he also wants fairy lights and pastel blankets.

Kaidou has lots of cuddly toys but he gets embarrassed about it and won’t admit it. 

In fact, cuddly toys are his favourite courting gifts to receive, but he will always pretend that he think toys are for little kids, but you can see how tightly he cradles the toy, and if you scent the teddy first, you can even hear him purring. 

As an adult, Kaidou really wants his dream nest, but he feels guilty spending so much money on it. It’s up to his alpha to encourage him. 

When he has pups, they think his nest is the coolest thing ever, and they tell all the other kids at school because it has a hidden door! And beanbags! And a mini fridge! And it’s way better than your omega parent’s nest!!

Kaidou is very protective of his nest. He only lets you and his pups inside. No one else. He doesn’t even like when someone figures out where it is in his home.

This causes some conflict because he would love to give birth in his nest, but he would never be able to invite a midwife or doctor inside. 

You clutched a small bat plushie in you hands as you walked into your classroom. You had bought it for Kaidou on a whim yesterday on your way home from school. This was hardly the first time you had given him a courting gift, but this was the first one that had your scent on it. 

“Holy shit.” You whispered to yourself. “You can do this, don’t be nervous.” 

You saw Kaidou immediately. He was sitting on top of his desk, chatting with Hairo and Nendou. You huffed. You would have preferred him to be alone but you guess that couldn’t be helped now.

“Hey, Shun...” You started, awkwardly sliding up beside him.

He startled slightly, a blush settling on his cheeks.

 “Oh! Hey... Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I, um.” You pulled the bat toy out of your pocket, shoving it vaguely in his direction. “This is for you.”

Kaidou gently took it from your hands, eyes wide. He turned it over, running a finger over the fake fangs. You saw the moment he realised you had scented it. He looked up at you in shock before turning and sniffing absentmindedly at the toy, purrs beginning to sneak out. 

You puffed up in pride. Watching your intended mate accept and enjoy your gift with such fervour filled your heart with joy. 

“HA HA!” Interrupted Nedou. “Kaidou’s purring!”

The purrs stopped immediately, Kaidou turned bright red, shoving the toy into his bag. 

“I AM NOT! Shut up!”

The two began to bicker, Nedou laughing over Kaidou’s agressive denial. 

You were vaguely embarrassed that Kaidou’s friends had seen you give him a courting gift, but mostly you were pleased by his acceptance of your first serious courting gift. Giving someone your scent to put in their nest was a big deal after all.

Family + pups

When you decide to court Kaidou, he will try and keep you as far away from his mother as he can. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long, because his mother just orders him to bring you over and he can’t say no to his terrifying alpha mother.

Kaidou is unbelievably nervous throughout the whole meeting. He knows his mother will order him to end the courtship if she doesn’t approve.

His mother’s opinion depends a lot of how well spoken, intelligent and ambitious Kaidou’s intended alpha is.

If you have good grades, can match her successfully in conversation, and are preparing to apply to a good university, she will adore you. 

(it’s best just to lie if you aren’t those things).

Kaidou’s mother is a very hands on grandparent when the time comes. She always take your pup(s) when Kaidou is in heat and you in rut. She also helps pay for tutors and arranges academic help for all her grandchildren.

Kaidou wants at least one pup but no more than three pups. 

He is such a sweet parent. 

He never, ever makes fun of his pups. He always treats their problems seriously and loves them for who they are.

He’s the kind of parent who jumps at the opportunity to support his kids hobbies. Writing, martial arts, painting, cooking, whatever they love, he makes sure they can do it. 

Kaidou makes an excellent stay-at-home parent. He loves spending time with his pup(s) and working on writing the book he wants to write.

Family cuddles are a scheduled weekly event. He is distraught if, when his pups get older, they don’t partake in the family cuddles every week.

It took Kaidou quite a few tries to get pregnant, and he ended up getting very stressed about it, thinking something was wrong with him. Luckily, it eventually happened for you both. 

When he was pregnant, Kaidou didn’t have many symptoms, but he was very tired and hungry all the time. 

He needed help to do most things because he was so tired, but he felt like a burden, so didn’t ask for help. This changes in his second pregnancy (if he has one). He needs to have help with your other pup(s) when he’s pregnant because he’s too tired to look after them fulltime.

It would make more sense for you to wait until your first pup was in school before trying for a second one, just to take the pressure off of Kaidou somewhat.

The night’s peace was broken by a tentative knock at your bedroom door. You startled slightly, starting to sit up, Kaidou also stirring in your arms. The door handle turned slowly, the silhouette of you oldest son was revealed, along with the quiet sound of sniffling.

Before you could even process what you were seeing, Kaidou had yanked himself out of your arms and thrown himself towards your crying pup. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Kaidou panicked, hands flitting over your pup as if to check for injuries. 

“Nightmare.” Your pup whined, beginning to sob and he held his arms out for a hug. 

Kaidou whined with him, quickly and firmly pulling him into his embrace. Kaidou then stood up, cradling your pup in his arms, rocking him back and forth. 

“Why don’t you sleep with us tonight, pup?” You said, voice still heavy with sleep, gesturing for Kaidou to get back into bed. It was freezing after all.

Kaidou didn’t need any more prompting and slipped back under the covers you were holding up for him. As he settled down, your pup quickly grabbed at your shirt, holding it tightly in his fist. You brushed your hand over his tiny one before settling your hand on his back, rubbing up and down to help soothe him. You could no longer see his face (it was buried in your mate’s chest), but you could still hear his sniffling. 

“What was your nightmare about, sweetheart? Must have been scary, huh?” You asked as Kaidou began scenting the top of your son’s head. 

“Yeah. W’s scary.” Came the muffled voice of your pup. 

In lieu of a reply, you pulled both him and Kaidou more closely against your chest. 

“Nothing can happen while you’re here with us, okay. You’re safe.” You kept rubbing his back as he finally started to settle. Eventually, his breathing evened out and he relaxed fully against you and Kaidou, his grip on your shirt loosening. 

“I feel so useless when he has nightmares.” Kaidou admitted, breaking the hush. “I can’t protect him from them.”

You shifted slightly to look him in the eye. 

“You’re protecting him right now, my love. This is what he needs from you and you’re so good at it. You’re such a good parent, Shun.” Kaidou blushed faintly.  “I fall in love with you all over again everytime I see you with our pups.”

Kaidou smiled slightly, resting his head against your shoulder. 

“I just want him to be happy.” 

“I know.” You replied, placing a kiss on his head. “Me too.” 

You started to drift off to sleep as silence descended on the room. 

“Thanks.” Kaidou murmured. 

Too tired to reply, you squeezed him lightly with your arms. It saddened you that your amazing parent of a mate still felt insecure four years into parenthood, but you were just going to have to keep telling him otherwise until he started to see himself as you saw him. 

N-SFW under cut (ft. Slightly!Older!Kaidou)

Kaidou always, always needs after sex cuddles. It helps relax him, quiet his insecurities and is equally as enjoyable as the sex in his opinion.

Kaidou is a big subby baby, and he needs cuddles for his aftercare or he can feel very rejected.

Do you remember the episode where Kaidou came last in every event of the physical fitness test, but came first in flexibility? Kaidou is extremely flexible and he loves to show it off in bed. He’s very proud of all the positions he can bend into. 

Kaidou loves dressing up in lingerie. He feels pretty and confident when he’s wearing lace lingerie. He looks best in pastel blue (it matches his hair), but honestly, he pulls off all pastel shades very well.

Along a similar vein, Kaidou finds it very embarrasing but very hot to look at himself in the mirror while you have sex. It requires a lot of praise though, as he can be quite insecure.

In heat, Kaidou is absolutely shameless. He will beg and plead and whine and nuzzle you to get you into his nest with him. 

Kaidou is weak to hickeys on his neck, especially around his scent glands. He doesn’t give many hickeys, but he is prone to leaving scratch marks on your back and shoulders. 

This man is very sensitive in a lot of areas. His nipples and the inside of his thighs are very soft and particularly sensitive.

He hates pain though. He is neither a masochist nor a sadist and thinks that pain has no place in love making. 

Kaidou likes a little bit of roleplay but he’s way to embarrassed to bring it up. You have to wait until you’ve been in a relationship with him for years before he feels comfortable enough to bring it up. He is interested in teacher/student and master/slave style roleplays. He enjoys playing the part of someone else, because it makes him feel more comfortable in embracing his sexuality outside his heat. 

“I’m-I’m coming out now. Don’t laugh, okay?”

You shook you head fondly. 

“I’m not going to laugh at you, baby. You always look gorgeous, don’t forget that.”

The bathroom door opened and Kaidou shuffled out, clad in the new pastel blue lingerie set you had ordered for him last week. 

You lost your breath just looking at him. 

He was wearing sheer knee socks with little bows, held up by the garter belt sitting snugly on his waist. On top, he was wearing a lacy bralette, completely see through of course. Your favourite piece however, was undoubtedly the little blue panties. You could see the fabric bulging, straining against his erection. Looking a little closer, you noticed a small damp spot. You grinned. For all his complaining, he certainly enjoyed this a lot. You haven’t even touched him yet. 

Kaidou shifted under your hungry gaze, feeling a little like your prey. He shivered at the thought. 

You moved to kneel on the ground before him, pressing wet, open mouth kisses over his thighs and tummy. Kaidou steadied himself by gripping onto your shoulders. You could feel his nails making small grooves in your skin. 

When you reached his chest, you began to suck and bite at his nipples through the lacey fabric, delighting in his moans and whimpers. He was always so sensitive for you. 

“So beautiful.” You panted, breathing heavily against him. 

“M’ not. Not beautiful.” Kaidou denied, eyes clenched shut.

You growled in response, biting him lightly on the shoulder. 

“Don’t you dare. You’re breath-taking, Shun. Stunning. Gorgeous. Perfect.” You emphasised every word with a suck or a bit on his neck. You wouldn’t stop until he learnt to love himself as much as you loved him. 

“Okay, baby, get on the bed. We have a long night ahead.” You made a point to crash your hips into his.  “I’m going to show you how beautiful you are.”

[sumsebien]

Your Highness pt.5// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: Y/N and Friedrich are still very much in the fairytale stage of their engagement. Of course, that is before the Queen gives her verdict on this match.

warnings: none

a/n: final part of your highness. the next part is “i’ll be in ruins for you” and it’s already up so check that out. oh and here is the duclaux piece i've been writing about. okayyy i’m too excited i am posting this right now :))))

When you and Anthony told Lord Wilson of your decision, he was happy for you and even invited you to visit his cottage should you ever find yoursef in Scotland. That alleviated parts of the guilt you felt for having strung him along. You wished him all the happiness and fortune before he bid you goodbye and left for his home. After that, you and the Prince had your last dance of the night, both of you trying to keep your giddiness to an absolute minimum as you spun around the room in each other’s arms.

It was utter bliss.

You hadn’t announced the news to the world just yet. So far, the only people who knew of your engagement were your family and Friedrich. And you intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Everyone was happy. Mama and Daphne were on board the moment they learned that you would remain close, most of the time, for them to visit. Benedict was just glad you had found your match and that you were generous enough to lend him that oil set. Colin was slightly sad that you’d not be living in a splendid castle in Prussia and allow him a tour whenever he made a stop on one of his continental tours. Little Hyacinth was most excited of all, always wondering what you were going to do the moment you became a Princess. Gregory usually answered before you could, resulting in a chase around the house.

As for you, you found yourself singing alone as you sketched in your notebook all the things that reminded you of Friedrich. And it had only been the morning after the engagement. You could not wait for noon to arrive so that you may see him again for the private tour of Somerset.

“Someone’s happy,” Benedict remarked, falling against the empty seat next to you.

“She has been singing all morning!” Eloise said, looking up from her book.

You smiled, ignoring them and went on with your humming.

“Miss Bridgerton?” Humbolt appeared at the entrance to the drawing room. “From Prince Friedrich, my Lady.”

“Yes?” You stood, leaving your notebook behind on the couch.

From behind him, Humbolt picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers, almost as tall as he was. You hadn’t even fully registered the impressive stature of it yet and Mama was already touching the flowers and sniffing them.

“Darling, this must be very expensive,” she said, pointing at the two-toned roses in white and pink, along with the vibrant pops of blue from the cornflowers. The bouquet was finished with gardenias, adding a wonderful aroma to the room almost immediately.

“But why cornflowers and roses?” Eloise asked and all of you turned to Mama for an answer.

“Roses are the national flower of England as cornflowers are to Prussia.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth just looking at him like so. You decided to sit down on the bench behind you and began to sketch him, “after that day, I went to the library and did my reasearch. Antoine Jean Duclaux, at the time he painted this, was only a student accompanying a more famous artist. While his teacher painted a Queen playing music, Duclaux made a portrait of her from the back. Perhaps so grief-stricken by the recent loss of her dear friend that she could not show her face.” The graphite version of Friedrich was coming to life and you had all the intentions of repainting it onto a canvas. You tried to capture his gentleness with the way his fingers curled ever so gently as well as his strength held mainly in his shoulders. The Friedrich before you had caught onto what you were doing by now. “You’re supposed to draw something that inspires you! That’s the only reason why we are here, my dear!” “I know! And I am doing just that!” He had no objections to remaining still and allowing you to complete your sketch. It didn’t take as long as you made him believe it would. The last five minutes you spent admiring him but he did not have to know that. After you were done, your family arrived to the Duclaux piece. Friedrich joined Hyacinth and Gregory and messed about in the room while you stood next to Benedict. “I don’t have favorites but if I did, you would be my favorite sister, you know that?” Benedict whispered to you when you came to stand by his side. “Do you love me? Or do you love him?” You motioned towards Friedrich who was now helping Hyacinth with her revenge. “Both of you I adore. For you have such fine taste in arts and in people,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You chuckled, about to tease him further when the your guide stopped talking. Through the door came a guard who cleared his voice, looking to Friedrich, “your Royal Highness, the Queen has requested your presence at once.” Before he turned to you, “And yours, Miss Bridgerton.” Dear readers, This Author believes she has uncovered a royal engagement made in secret. It is not hard to guess who the two lovebirds might be in this town. This morning a large bouquet of flowers was sent to the Bridgerton House. Large enough to mean more than just courting. Should the Prince have found himself a Princess so soon? And in someone other than the Diamond of the Season, as well. How very scandalous!

You remembered the nerves you felt waiting behind the tall white ornate doors with Mama and Daphne. You had tried your best not to mess up and in doing so, you paid no mind to your footing which resulted in you almost falling to the ground in front of her Majesty. It wasn’t as much of a disaster as Miss Featherington who fainted at her feet but it was enough to make a terrible and no doubt, lasting impression on her.

You just didn’t expect yourself to be here again. Behind those white doors, engaged to her nephew, you were going to go in and explain yourself to her the reason why you two had hid the engagement from her and have her found out through reading Whistledown. No amount of sophistication and elegance could save you now.

Before you were due inside, you tugged at Friedrich’s hand. He, for one, was not nervous at all, still smiling. The crinkles by his eyes and the dimples by his cheeks offered you a moment of peace. “And what would your mother say? When the Queen tells her that we hid an engagement from her?” you asked quietly. At this point, anything that could delay the possibility of losing Friedrich was good enough.

“She is in Prussia and should not be here until I ask her to. When she does, she will love you. And,” he gave your hand a final kiss, “we did not hide anything. I would never hide my love for you. Not from the Queen, not from anyone.”

You nodded before turning to Anthony who gave you a small smile. “It’s going to be alright, sister.” But you could tell he was nervous too from the ways he kept fidgeting with his fingers behind his back.

Echoing from inside the throne room were your names and suddenly the doors swung open, revealing the longest walk you’d ever taken leading up to the throne. The Queen sat leaning back, her watchful eyes burning into you three, but especially you. Beside her was an army of lady’s maids in extravagant gowns, Pomeranians in their arms. You kept your gaze low and made sure that you did not trip and that your curtsy was perfect.

So far, everything went swimmingly. Up until she opened her mouth. “Care to explain what this is, Friedrich?” She snapped her fingers and one of the servants brought forth a copy of Whistledown on a tray.

Friedrich held up his hand to stop the servant from moving any further. “Lady Whistledown was correct to assume we were engaged.”

She laughed, “You are engaged? To her?”

“I asked Miss Bridgerton to marry me last night and she has accepted. We were going to tell you very soon.”

“You proposed last night?” The Queen sat up in her seat, about to storm forward but stopped herself and slumped back, throwing a hand over her forehead, “do my opinions mean so little to you?”

Anyone in their right mind would be scared out of their wits by now. You were sure Friedrich was the only one you had ever met who wasn’t terrified of the Queen. You glanced to him briefly. He kept his gaze steady on her, still calm and collected. “I love her very much. As she loves me. She may not be what you are looking for in a wife for me but she is what I am looking for. I hope we may have your blessing.”

The Queen did not seem like she was listening or like she cared at all. You knew this was headed. Your hand brushed his, knowing the inevitable was on the horizon. He didn’t look at you, his eyes burning into the Queen.

“No. And you,” she looked to you and Anthony. Contempt in her gaze and venom in her words, “you shall leave.”

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer ❤️

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the replies or through messages. love you.

[mithrilwren]

echoes

or, some angsty Shadowgast in honour of Caleb’s new telepathy powers

There was a time when a voice from the darkness was comforting. Hearing his own name in the moments between rest and wakefulness – sleepy recognition and then the warmth of fond annoyance as Jester poured her unfiltered thoughts into his mind, so loud and bright that none of the anxietyfearshame could force its way through. In the moments when Essek was most alone, he used to crave it – that too-brief cacophony of words, that intrusion without intent to coerce, or harm. A brief reprieve from the solitude of a lonely mind.

Unbelievable, isn’t it?

Why then, when Caleb’s soft accent finds its way into his head for the first time, does his heart clench instead of calm?

Perhaps it is unfamiliarity, he almost manages to convince himself by the time they find their battered, bleeding way to rest, tucked amidst the vacant streets of the floating city of Aeor. He has grown accustomed to Jester’s voice, to its unpredictable cadence and pitch. While Caleb’s measured tone, his soft accent and carefully chosen words, are not new to his ears, they are new in their closeness: a touch without touch, below the skin, so desired and feared that the thought of it makes him dizzy. 

Essek pulls a blanket over his knees, preparing to meditate and wincing as the bruises of the day make themselves known. Caleb is on first watch. He sits crosslegged, staring out past the broken walls of the Cognouza Ward towards the curtain of endless night, but he looks up at the sharp intake of breath Essek can’t quite manage to hold in. His eyes soften in sympathy, and the words come so softly Essek can imagine them as a whisper drifting across the dome – only Caleb’s lips do not move.

We wizards are made too fragile, ja?

Should he respond? Can he respond? It makes Essek unexpectedly nervous, to realize he does not know the answer. How far can this new ability take Caleb? Can he only plant words in Essek’s mind, or can he reach beyond and pluck the thoughts from Essek just as easily? A slow, sickening curl forms in the pit of his stomach, and for a moment he sees yellowed teeth and cruel grey eyes, laying words he had not spoken down on the table between them like so many sharpened knives. A name, a fear, a secret longing laid bare, all in service of obtaining so-called loyalty...

But Caleb is not Ikithon. This, above all else, he knows. He trusts Caleb. He will be cautious, but he will not question that certainty. No matter what these mysterious eyes are, no matter what powers they lend, he trusts Caleb to know the limit. Gods know how little he deserves the same trust in return. 

And so he inclines his head with a small smile, to show he’s heard and understood, and returns his gaze to his lap, and reminds himself to be grateful that he is cared for, by whatever method that care comes.

---

They risk the tower the second night of hunting, exhausted after spending the day dodging architecture that seems determined to divide their party in two, or failing that, their heads from their bodies. Nobody is eager to chance the cobblestone collapsing out from under the dome for a second night.

Caleb and Beau each have two new eyes. If they’ve informed anyone in the group about any new powers, no one has passed the information along to Essek, and he is not certain he wants to ask. The thought of any further changes makes him queasy, though Caleb and Beau themselves seem in good spirits, apart from complaints of headaches and phantom voices. A smile through gritted teeth is still a smile, and he tries to accept the reassurance for what it is, without letting instinctual suspicion sour whatever tenuous bonds he’s formed with the others. 

Essek completes his meditation with four hours left over before the rest of the Nein will awake. He leaves his room, intending to peruse the star chamber that Caleb showed to him on his last visit, and hoping the quiet space will be a good place to think. As much as he cares for the Nein, he is still at his heart a solitary creature, and it has been a long while since he has spent so many nights in the company of others. The black emptiness of the expanse will be a welcome comfort.

The solitude does indeed do him good, and he is feeling measurably more level-headed when the sound of footsteps interrupts his quiet contemplation. He turns to see Caleb on the threshold, tired-eyed but smiling softly.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he says, and at the time, Essek has no reason to question what intuition brought Caleb to his location so easily. 

“Trouble sleeping?” he asks, and Caleb huffs a small laugh.

“More often than not… but not tonight,” he says before walking forward. To Essek’s surprise, he sits down on the floor, with every appearance of making himself comfortable there for a long while. After a moment, Essek follows his lead and lowers himself down as well, robes spilling out over his own feet and just brushing the edge of Caleb’s. Essek reaches a hand out to pull the fabric back into his lap, but the sound of Caleb’s voice catches him unawares, and his hand stutters to a stop in midair.

Do you see that constellation? 

Essek’s head whips towards Caleb, smile still in place and splayed across unmoving lips. Caleb cocks his head, eyes crinkling in confusion as Essek stares, and stares.

“We are alone,” Essek reminds him at last. “Is there a reason not to speak aloud?”

Caleb hesitates just a moment too long for Essek’s comfort before responding. He ducks his head, auburn hair falling away to reveal the slightest sliver of red on the inside of his jaw. “No. No reason,” he says, and when he looks back up at Essek, his look is mischievous enough to startle the lingering unease out of Essek’s chest. Involuntarily, he finds his own lips quirking up at the twinkle in Caleb’s eye. 

“What?” he asks.

Caleb reaches out and taps the back of his hand with a finger, and a familiar magical lightness fills Essek’s chest, as the legs that were resting against the floor begin to float. Then Caleb’s fingers find his, pulling him away into the air, and speechless, he lets himself be pulled up – up, up – until the two of them are floating so high above that the floor is nothing but a dull sheen amid the endless stars. 

“We are alone,” Caleb echoes, low and dark, and Essek’s stomach swoops with a vertigo that has nothing to do with their height. “So, shall we dance? Here, at the end of the world?”

Yet again, Essek is caught speechless, but when Caleb’s other hand lands gently on his waist, he manages a nod. And in the silence of starlight, they begin to spin.

Essek cannot say when he closes his eyes, or why – whether the motion of the light and dark becomes too much, or if it’s the look in Caleb’s eyes: too warm, too close to bear. There are so few inches between them that when the words come – those soft, terrible, wonderful words, that leave his face hot and hands cold – it’s impossible to tell whether they were spoken aloud, or merely heard. And in the darkness, he finds he does not care. 

It is Caleb’s voice that envelops him, as they drift together among the stars, and that is all he needs to know.

---

The trail never quite grows cold, and yet Lucien and Cree remain elusive. Frustration turns to despair and back to frustration again, as each time they seem on the precipice of catching their prey, another obstacle springs up in their path: a cosmic creature, a horde of spirits, an unscalable spire that wasn’t there the night before. Essek begins to lose track of the days they’ve spent wandering the city. The hours bleed together, and it’s only Caleb’s clockwork reminders that keep them bedding down at the right intervals. Every day feels shorter than the next, and more than once Essek bites his tongue, wanting to ask if Caleb is sure the time is right, if they really have been wandering for as long as he says. 

But every time, he stops himself. His body must be confused, or perhaps time works strangely in this immortal city. Caleb would have no reason to lie. And once they are safe in the tower, he cannot bring himself to complain about the energy that still thrums, unspent, beneath his skin. Not when the others sleep, and Caleb and Essek have the nights to themselves.

And yes, Essek is concerned that he and Beau have stopped sleeping. Of course he is. He is concerned about the eyes, and the faraway look that Caleb gets when he stares too long at a window, or an empty doorframe. But when they are together, Caleb is never far away. He is here, unmistakably present, for the hours that Essek is awake while the others sleep, and he has never imagined- could never have imagined how incredible that could be. How much he would give up, to not surrender this.

Caleb knocks on his door, and he answers without any hesitation.

“Join me,” Caleb says, a half-smile still playing over his lips – just formal enough for plausible deniability, if anyone was to hear. They might be going to do research, or discuss battle strategy. But instead, Caleb leads him to his own room, and they are barely through the door before Essek’s back is pressed to it, Caleb’s breath hot against his throat, and he has swiftly learned to love the racing chill of being held beneath a weight greater than his own. 

They stay there a moment, Caleb’s eyes searching for permission before he leans in, a question held and asked before anything is taken. Essek never imagined that being trapped could feel so... safe.

“Join me,” Caleb’s lips say again, before they press themselves to Essek, and Essek swallows the words away, lets heavy breath suffocate the mismatched sounds that pass out of reach before he can fully grasp their shape: the words Caleb didn’t say, but that Essek hears, or thinks he does, or maybe has been imagining all along. 

An echo, in the corner of his mind. Nothing more. 

Join us.

(Join us)

(Join us)

[shameonmeeguiltypleasure]

Seducing Mr Bridgerton Author rambles: 04.08.2022

Hi guys 👋

So I'm sick and I have to take a few days off from work. But I feel soooo guilty about taking sick leave I've been typing away at my laptop as if to play pretend like I'm still working 😂😅

What does this mean? Well it means I've been doing aloooooot of thinking for SMB and it's future plot events.

And y'all don't even get how much more is left to be written!!

I think all that's left from book Canon is the Cressida lie, Church scene, carriage ride, engagement party, then Daphne's party (I think).

Chp 9-10 of SMB is defs the kiss and the aftermath that follows.

But I've decided to ignore the 'Colin insecure bout his writing' thing. I think the whole Sir Lee thing is a bigger aspect to my Colin. And a whole lot more interesting to write and explore. I mean he still writes.... He's just not insecure about it. (I have plans. I will explain it eventually 😂)

I very much feel like we are entering the second half of SMB once Chapters 9 & 10 are posted.

And I intend for chapters 11 onwards to focus more on Lady Whistledowns persona, My version of the Featheringtons, and Colin and Penelope fully embracing their true selves without care for the opinion of others.... It's gonna be glorious 🤩 Like take all the tension between Colin and Penelope now, then make it LW & Sir Lee. 💥🤯💥

Secrets will be revealed, confessions will be made and dares will be issued. I can't wait to share it all!!!

In saying that... I am confirming the next fic for this series will be 'To Sir Phillip with Pleasure'. Once SMB is finished I want to leave my Polin characters to marinate in their ending for a bit.

Also, with how many Eloise scenes I've been cutting out of SMB I think she's due some major attention.

My Eloise is nowhere similar to Canon Eloise. And in her prologue you're gonna really get to know how she became so different from canon and really get to see SMB Colin's influence on her growing up.

I will say that I'm using Marina from the show' characteristics. I think I already mentioned it in SMB. But Marina is Penelope's cousin, and Eloise and Phillip met a little differently than canon.

First half of Eloise's book will mostly be letters between her and Phillip and her POV on SMB Polin events. Second Half is her running away and how she and Phillip get on.

Only once Eloise's book is finished will i return to writing SMB's direct sequel "Loving Mrs Bridgerton".

LMB will follow my version of Polin after Eloise's wedding. As I won't be using any canon sources as references this entire plot is going to be completely original. Despite the title, the story is gonna be more adventure, thriller and action then it will be romance. Let's just say....

Colin has some unfinished business to properly wrap up before he can officially retire his alter Sir Lee. With his beloved wife along for the journey, Colin is determined to see it done swiftly & properly. Having successfully retired Lady Whistledown and no longer being a spinster , Penelope is all for the new adventure. But only time will tell if she'll be able to handle the danger Colin has been risking as Sir Lee while traveling all these years. He's terrified the truth of his travels will cause him to lose her. She's not sure what to expect... But from the way her silly husband is acting, Penelope's determined to overcome it all...so long as she gets to keep him.

.... So yeah.... I'm suuuuuuuuuuper excited!!!!

I've got 1000 something words done for Chapter 9 and estimate a final word count of 5-7000. I will be leaving you readers on a cliffhanger BUT I fully intend on posting chapter 10 a week or so after. Chapter 10 is estimated to be about 7-9000 words long because there are lot of things to happen.

But Chapters 11 is currently planned to focus on the Featheringtons.

Honestly!!! I'm super excited so for all of this to get done 😆😆🤩🤩

It's exhausting but I love it!!

Anyway, hope everyone stays healthy,safe and strong ✨💪😘

[kumaradosha]

I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:

Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.

Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.

Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.

When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...

Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.

Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.

“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.

If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.

Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.

The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.

I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.

Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.

Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.

Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.

And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.

Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.

Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.

It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?

Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.

[ruinaimagines]

May I have some headcanons of male!reader comforting Maxim after they had to go through the repeated horrors of R Corp?

Sure thing, R Corp sure is something else. The whole concept of hatcheries is interesting, and I hope to get expanded on more in the future. Also these came out a bit on the angstier side just cause R Corp is (in my opinion) one of the more disturbing corporations. The reader is intended to be male but for anyone else reading you should still be able to enjoy it anyways.

Male!Reader Comforting Maxim Through R Corp Trauma:

On the surface it’s easy to interpret that Maxim is the type of guy who’s not impacted at all by the violent cycles of cloning in R Corp. I mean, he seems to be pretty unbothered by it, even making lighthearted comments and betting on who will be victorious coming out of his colleague’s cloning sessions.

But it does affect him greatly, whether he really acknowledges it or not. It might come in brief sessions where he’s going about his day as he usually would, and the reality of this vicious process hits him. Death may not be a fear anymore, that is until the hatcheries run out of energy, but is that truly something to be glad about?

An eternal life seems like an incredibly powerful feature, but could you even begin to consider this ‘eternal’ life? You die, and a clone fulfills your spot. Does that really seem like a single lifetime?

While he seems to keep quiet about these moments where things seem to settle in, that’s not always a choice for him. You can tell something is off when he doesn’t seem as lively as before, instead a sort of dazed look overtaking his face.

He might be a bit unresponsive, stuck inside his mind, though if you ask he’ll often say he’s alright. It will take a bit of insisting to get him to talk to you, because chances are he doesn’t really feel ready to dredge up the truth yet.

If you can find yourself in a quiet area away from people though, he’ll drop the act and tell you his thoughts and experiences on really everything. He doesn’t break down or get overly emotional, but you can tell there’s a bit of a struggle to his words and hesitation to speak.

He’ll talk about how he came to this job, not understanding fully what he’d be getting himself into. Now, working in a nest is a dream for many, especially when it has to do with a wing, but you truly aren’t aware of what you’re getting yourself in until it’s too late. It’s not as simple as just quitting. You’ve already been hired for the job, exposed to the secrets and horrors, and it’s not like you can just walk out.

Perhaps it was just being blindly optimistic, but he hadn’t expected it to be too bad. It never really was revealed to the public just how R Corp maintains a steady force of expendable soldiers, but some did suspect cloning. Only issue is that cloning was directly against the head’s law, so it left many stumped.

Maybe he had an idea that it might be like cloning, maybe not. Point is, he had no clue that he’d have to be competing with so many other versions of himself. Forced to survive for however long the process of hatchery was able to go, feasting on copies of himself for food, and being forced to kill until you come out on top.

It’s honestly a terrifying experience. You stare into the eyes of a clone who’s dying as they lose consciousness, and it goes black. That could have been him. The other versions of him are still sentient, they don’t share memories, they don’t share consciousness, which means when he dies he may truly die.

Of course, he’ll come back out of a hatchery a bit later, remembering the past events and moving on as though it’s just like waking up. But is that really him? Is that version of him the same person, the same consciousness as the one who’s sitting next to you right now?

It’s honestly a disturbing concept to think about, one that he doesn’t want to know the answer to. Even though it’s most likely he won’t, some form of hope deep inside hopes that it’s just like waking up in a dream to a new life. A reincarnation of sorts, maybe.

There’s not really much you can do aside from offer your support and listening for this subject. It’s not like you could change something, aside from giving your full attention and maybe holding onto his hand or similar.

…Depending if he’s in the suit or not, if he is offering physical affection is probably going to be a bit more difficult to do. Especially when his hands in the armor are like twice the size of your head.

Don’t diminish his hope though. Even if it might be feeding into a false reality, it’s not as though it’s harming anyone but rather letting someone live a more peaceful life, even if slightly.

He’s honestly a bit frustrated too, but he doesn’t react in an angry way, you can just hear the strain in his voice. It feels a bit demeaning to be treated like livestock, I mean the places they come from are literally called hatcheries. Doesn’t it seem quite animalistic? You’d think perhaps it would be a bit more refined if it was part of a wing.

But it’s not even like he can complain about it, no one would listen. While not super common of an event given the lack of energy since the fall of L corp, if his complaints caused too much trouble he may even be deemed as defective and replaced by a different clone.

It doesn’t really help that there’s the looming warning of R Corp essentially pulling the plug to Fourth Pack, resulting in permanent death. Perhaps it was a bit pretentious to be scared of the possibility of a true end when so many citizens of the city face that risk every day, but that didn’t lessen the terror.

It’s a long rant of emotions, one that you usually sit through pretty silently. It’s hard to comment on advice when there isn’t really a solution, but at the very least you can try to make things better at the moment.

Perhaps you can relate to his turmoil if you’re one of the members of the Fourth Pack, or some other pack yourself. It might be good to empathize and let him know that he isn’t the only person to think about it, honestly at some point any employee likely has.

Let him know once he’s calmed down a bit more that you’re here right now, and it’s better to focus on the present than linger and worry about the unchangeable future.

When cloning gives you a sort of loophole to life, everything can sort of blend together and you start to lack an appreciation for the casual pleasantries of life. However moments like these might help you gain those back.

What matters is that you’re here with him now, right? Why not enjoy things while you can. Maybe it’s naive, maybe it’s carefree, but what else can you do? Have fun, go out to places, try things you haven’t before.

Take him out to go eat some place, drag him around the nest, have competitions, make bets. Even if they’re fleeting moments, they add some form of normality back into your lives. And truthfully if he’s having fun with you, it’s a lot easier to be optimistic, and the moments feel like they last a lot longer.

Before he even realizes it he’ll be feeling better, mind no longer focusing on the anxieties he had earlier. It may not be the most healthy method of comforting, but it’s the best you got and you’re going to take it.

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Analyzing Marinette’s hairstyles

So, I’ve actually seen a bunch of different posts and takes of what Marinette’s hairstyles represent and symbolize especially in regard to the episode “Heart Hunter”, but I wanted to go through all the different styles of hair instead of solely focusing on the pigtails/hair down of that particular episode.

With that being said, in no particular order, here we go:

The Bun

This hairstyle is almost exclusively seen in the episode “Animaestro”. However if you’re paying close attention, you will see Marinette wearing this hairstyle, in the old class picture, featured in “Reflekta”. I find the fact that the show made this connection between these two (scenes? examples?) incredibly interesting and very telling. Putting the class picture aside for a moment, one must analyze Marinette’s behavior in the episode “Animaestro”. To be sure, it isn’t great. For the most part, Marinette acts foolishly and immaturely and her actions in this episode, indirectly lead to the akumatization. Marinette, in her jealous state, goes so far as to join up with Chloe (a person she despises), and attempt childish pranks on Kagami. In short, I think that the bun hairstyle symbolizes a sort of immaturity for Marinette. The fact that she wore this hairstyle when she was younger only goes to prove my point. Marinette is not a perfect character, but her actions in “Animaestro” are arguably some of her worst, and naturally when she has hit a low in her maturity level, she reverts back to a hairstyle of her youth.

The Braid

The braid can be easily shoved aside as not holding any symbolism, as just a way the design team chose to incorporate the tail in her costume. However, there were a number of ways the tail could have been incorporated into the Ladynoir costume, and as such the braid must be analyzed. Now, a braid can be considered an almost restricting thing, it carefully tucks back locks of hair and traps them better than an ordinary ponytail can. However, the Ladynoir braid almost has a ‘fun’ twist to it (pun not intended but appreciated). It is long (like really long), and we even see her flick it playfully over her shoulder. I think that the braid is supposed to represent that dualism between responsibility and fun that the job of superhero can have. I have heard a lot of people criticize “Reflekdoll” for its lack of parallels. In other words, Chat Noir learns something and better appreciates Ladybug, but the reverse isn’t true, and I would say that in many ways this is true, Ladybug is not privy to the lesson that Chat Noir is. However, I would argue that she did learn something. Ladybug learned that it’s okay for her to have fun and to joke around. Towards the beginning of the episode we see Ladybug chastising Chat Noir for his joking around, however by the end we see Ladybug embrace this approach and even make some jokes herself. The braid shows Marinette acceptance of balance, of the combination of enjoyment and responsibility within her life.

The Space Buns

This design as well can be attributed to the design team finding a way to show mouse ears, but I’m still going to try to analyze this. I have two different ways to possibly explain this hairstyle. The first being to draw parallels to the bun hairstyle as this is essentially the same thing but two instead of one. The correspondence between the two hairstyles could be seen through Marinette’s feigned naivety in front of Chat Noir. She “accidentally” reveals herself as Marinette and pretends to be less informed than she really is. The other way to translate this hairstyle is as a security blanket so to speak. I haven’t gotten into the metaphorical interpretation of Marinette’s pigtails yet, but I will briefly explain a part of it now (and go into depth a little later). The pigtails serve as a sense of security for Marinette, as a source of status quo. The space buns are that, but elevated. In the episode this hairstyle is featured, “Kwamibuster” (I don’t think I mentioned this before), Marinette is desperate to keep her identity a secret from Chat Noir and develops a convoluted plan (including Multi-mouse) to accomplish this. She wants the security of her identity and wants to use her comfort style at this moment. However, Marinette is trying to distance herself from Ladybug and as such she uses a slight variation of her pigtails in her alternate hero form.

The Ponytail

I’m gonna be honest and say that I can’t fully analyze this hairstyle as we have not yet seen the episode where this hairstyle makes its second appearance. So I’m just focusing here on the ponytail from “Optigami”. I might make another analysis on the ponytail after “Sentibubbler” comes out but it might make more sense to wait until after the whole season comes out, in case there are new examples of ponytails (or other hairstyles for that matter). I don’t want to say anything about Pegabug’s ponytail, because as I’m sure you know, Miraculous trailers can be very misleading. Anyways, after that ramble, I now focus on Ladybee’s ponytail. To be frank “Optigami” was a bit of a doozy. I watched that episode with a sense of dread that did not lighten by the end of the episode. This isn’t a bad thing, but it was intense for a typical episode of Miraculous, a show where my usual reaction is a mix of “oh this is cute” and cringe (to be fair I cringe easily). But what I like so much about season 4 is that we get more than that (I won’t go into this now because I’m straying from the topic too much). Ladybee comes at a time of great stress for Marinette, she gets stuck in an elevator with someone and is thus unable to transform (let alone the fact that that “someone” is Adrien), she is without the help of Chat Noir and most of the other heroes, and (unbeknownst to her for a majority of the episode) her friend has been replaced with a sentimonster. Yet, despite all of this, Marinette remains cool, calm, and collected. She, unlike Alya, does not fall apart and despair when Senti-Nino is revealed, she knows she has to get the job done. A ponytail gives an image of “getting the job done” of focus. Although the situation is dire and dangerous, Marinette displays her competence in crisis and the ponytail magnifies that trait. I have a feeling that the same will be true for Pegabug, but only time (and the episode coming out) will tell.

Hair Down

In the two episodes that we have seen Marinette wearing her hair down, they were both in connection with Adrien and her relationship with her. I want to separate the two examples because though they both wind up achieving similar goals in regard to their symbolism, they do it in different ways. Focusing first on “Chat Blanc” Marinette wears her hair down in part to distinguish to the audience the difference between the two timelines. Though the surface level explanation of her hair would be sufficient explanation, this choice of hairstyle also has a deeper interpretation. This being as a metaphor for Marinette’s vulnerability. She is allowing her feelings to be known to Adrien, she is allowing herself to be open and honest about her emotions and with that freedom she lets her hair free as well. It is also significant that she is free from her secret identity (albeit unknowingly) and as she allows Adrien to see the full spectrum of her personality, she frees her hair from its restraint. In “Heart Hunter” too, this hairstyle signifies vulnerability and freedom. In this episode we see Marinette having fun with Adrien and Kagami, without the worry of how she is being perceived by Adrien, without the stress about her feelings for him. It is of great significance that when she lets her guard down, when she “lets her hair down” (both literally and metaphorically), Adrien comments on her beauty. We already know, as viewers, that Adrien has fallen in love with Marinette’s personality as Ladybug. But as Marinette, Adrien has not been privy to her full personality. He has only been given glimpses, as in this episode, to the full extent of her persona. Marinette is seen later on in the episode to revert back to her old hairstyle once she is no longer comfortable, when she feels inadequate compared to Kagami. She puts back on her guise when she feels she needs the security. Which leads us to that source of security.

Pigtails

I feel a bit bad as I have simplified this hairstyle in earlier paragraphs to a symbol for security. While this definition is a correct one, this hairstyle has more than one explanation. As Marinette’s primary hairstyle, in both her every day and hero outfits, we see this hairstyle A LOT. Because of this, there is an array of interpretation as to what this hairstyle could mean. Starting with the aforementioned, this hairstyle works as a form of security for Marinette. The style required her to hold her hair back, to keep it in check, away from possible disasters and viewers (wind can tangle hair very easily). The pigtails are the antithesis of letting her hair down, a common symbol for freedom and relaxation. The pigtails therefore show that she is on her guard and is protecting herself. The pigtails also represent her quality of being a do-er. She likes to do things, she is an active person, she doesn’t stand aside or wait for things to happen, she works to make them happen. As a do-er she needs focus, she needs a restraint for her hair that could get in her line of sight, and the pigtails do that well. As Ladybug, the same is true. She is focused and determined to accomplish her goals, to succeed in her battles and she needs to tie her hair back to best accomplish this. There is importance in the fact that she chooses to focus herself with pigtails rather than the equally practical ponytail. This can be attributed to the child-like quality that pigtails have. Marinette, simply put, is still a child. Though as a whole she is particularly mature for her age, at times she can show a bit of immaturity. It is interesting to note that as the seasons progress, the more we see her with other hairstyles. As she matures she wears the pigtails less. The pigtails are also a girly hairstyle and show how Marinette is a girly-girl in a plain and easy way. Additionally, the pigtails give her the approachable, girl-next-door look. In simply looking at Marinette one gets the image of her sweetness and good nature. In visual media, it is important to make a connection between personality and visage. In cartoons especially, a character’s design should fit with how they interact with their world, and the pigtails are an immediate signifier as to Marinette’s character. This about sums up my analysis of her pigtails. I know that there are more ways to interpret them, and feel free to comment if you think of any other interpretations!

[mrs-gucci]

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy. 

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open. 

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression. 

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours. 

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy. 

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side. 

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man. 

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

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

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response. 

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you. 

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress. 

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

 It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice. 

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state. 

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door.  By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill. 

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits. 

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds. 

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs. 

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy, 

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically. 

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot. 

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach. 

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother. 

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks. 

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand. 

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now. 

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack. 

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees. 

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog.  “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back. 

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside. 

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him. 

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy. 

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat.  Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room. 

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human.  He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier. 

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him. 

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance. 

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos. 

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks. 

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so. 

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now. 

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

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

It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later.  Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this. 

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape. 

Oh god, no. 

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor. 

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can. 

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate.  “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later.  As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

[wing-ed-thing]

Click (Part III: Neji)

Synopsis: You invited everyone out to dinner. You also audibly clicked. People had opinions about this

Word Count: 1,743

Warnings: Mild Bullying, Fem!Reader

Part I: Shikamaru, Part II: Shino, Part III: Neji, Part IV: Rock Lee , Part V: Naruto, Part VI: Kiba, FINALE, The Message in Click

Notes: While these can be read as oneshots, all three parts do interweave. To get all the jokes and references, do read the Shikamaru and Shino parts that have already been posted. Otherwise, enjoy!

You were always more of Hinata’s friend than Neji’s and Neji preferred it that way. You were a stark contrast compared to the infamously a severe man of few words. But even so, Neji truly never minded your presence; it was just simply one that he never particularly preferred. So when you let yourself into the Hyūga compound’s courtyard to ask him and Hinata for dinner, Neji became uncharacteristically taken aback.

“Well, I know it’s short notice, but I’m inviting everyone out for dinner tonight. My treat!” You chirped. “I was hoping you’d join me.”

Neji’s lips formed a tight line as he shifted his gaze to Hinata. Social engagements were never Neji’s forte, but he was in enough of an agreeable mood to leave the decision up to Hinata. You rocked on your heels expectantly in front of her.

“Maybe?” Hinata squeaked out and you beamed brightly, clicking as you did so. Neji shook his head at your reaction to the noncommittal response. How you could ever find enough positivity to smile about in such a weak answer made him wonder.

“Well if you can make it, it’ll be at Shushu-ya. Seven o’clock, okay?”

You left as quickly as you came and Neji continued training with Hinata. But not too long after you left, they were interrupted once more.

Kiba hurried into the courtyard with Shino not too far behind. Hinata interlocked her fingers behind her head as she tried to catch her breath again. Neji gave her modest praise for her work and decided to end training for the day given their many interruptions. Hinata’s frosted-over eyes widened with joy as she smiled at her teammates.

“Hey, Hyūga twins!” Kiba pointed finger guns at the two nobles. Hinata let out a courteous laugh. Neji crossed his arms over his chest, unamused. “Are you coming with us to Yakiniku tonight?”

Hinata looked down.

“Yes, of course.” She spoke quietly. Neji took a quick glance between the members of Team Eight. He cocked a brow.

“Don’t you mean Shus-”

“Nope!” Kiba interjected. He locked eyes with the eldest Hyūga. “Yakiniku.”

Neji let out a sharp exhale, a hand coming up to his temple. He weighed the consequences of challenging Kiba, but ultimately decided to keep quiet. If there was a problem, you would handle it, You were your own adult. You were a competent ninja. And most of all you were more Hinata’s friend so it wasn’t like he cared.

***

Neji came through the doors to Yakiniku Q first. The whole team had arrived a half hour early, because when Rock Lee is early, his whole team is early. Lee bolted through the entrance to a table he deemed long enough for everyone. Tenten sighed to herself and sat down at the opposite end. Neji ordered a round of tea and took his place near the weapons user.

He sat, legs crossed, in his quiet corner as he sipped his tea. The bell on the door rang signaling three new arrivals. Neji silently observed the room as it began to fill. Hinata and Shino greeted him quietly and took their seats at his end of the table. Another ring and Sakura and Sai joined. Sakura took it upon herself to order a few plates to grill. With each jingle of the bell above the door, he expected you. Neji shook his head. He inwardly scolded himself for mixing your clicking up with the chime. Surely, that was the reason.

He found himself studying Shino in order to take his mind off of you. Shino looked lost as he helplessly scanned the room. The bowl of rice in front of him remained untouched. His eyes settled on the meat grilling of the table. Shino lifted a hand to his chin before he abruptly stood. Neji took a sip of his tea.

His sharp eyes followed Shino as he left the table. Kiba came in front, stopping his teammate with a hand to the chest.

“I know what you did.” Neji read on Shino’s lips.

Neji exhaled sharply to himself, the pieces coming together in his head. He diverted his attention from the rest of the exchange and turned to his own bowl of rice. The bell rang out and Team Ten arrived. Shikamaru assumed Shino’s old seat.

“So,” Hinata grasped her tea with both hands. “Shikamaru how was your day?”

Shikamaru didn’t answer. Instead, he appeared as lost in his rice as Shino had been. Hinata let out a nervous laugh as the group at the end of the table began to stare at Shikamaru.

“His head’s been up in the clouds all day, don’t mind him.” Ino’s voice briefly snapped Shikamaru out of his thoughts. He grunted and a laugh went around the table. Neji studied him out of the corner of his eye.

“Hinata asked how your day was.” Sai leaned to tell him. His face remained stoic, but a sparkle of amusement shone in his eyes.

“Ah, sorry,” Shikamaru drawled, “I’ve been alright.”

With that, the conversation quickly moved on. Neji plucked a few pieces of meat from the grill. He brought his chapsticks to his lips, but paused. A sinking feeling gnawed at his core. The image of your chiper face asking him and Hinata to dinner flashed across his memory. The barbecue lowered onto the pillow of rice in his bowl.

“Wait.” Shikamaru’s head snapped up. Neji looked away, bringing a slice of meat to his mouth. He had every intention of ignoring whatever it was the Shikamaru was going to say, but what he said next made Neji stop mid-chew. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

As soon as the words left his lips, Shikamaru was out the door. The table fell silent.

Neji brought a hand up to his temple. All talk of you ceased after that, but Neji couldn’t help the pang of guilt that reverberated in his chest. The feeling ate at him and continued to eat away at him until the group decided that they were full and began to discuss the next thing they wanted to do that night. The incomplete Konoha Twelve poured out of Yakiniku, gabbering about some odd activity that Neji didn’t bother catching.

“You are not coming with us?” Lee questioned.

“No, thank you. I’ll be turning in.” The members of the group who had not already gone ahead cooed in disappointment, but didn’t push the Hyūga further.

Neji went his separate way, fully intending to head straight back to the compound. But he once again felt that pang. He stopped in the middle of the street. Neji frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. With a huff, he turned on his heel. He was off to find you.

***

Neji found you standing with Shikamaru outside. Shikamaru had offered to walk you home, but you politely declined. He had already done so much for you and you didn’t want to put him out. Shikamaru opened his mouth just to argue with you when Neji appeared. You looked over your shoulder.

“Oh Neji! I’m sorry, you just missed dinner.” Your features drooped in genuine apology. Shikamaru gave the Jounin a pointed look. Neji returned with a look of subtle understanding.

“I apologize that I could not make it earlier.” He opted. He gulped before clearing his throat. “Do you mind if I steal you?”

“I mean, we were just about done so I don’t see why not.” You smiled up at Shikamaru who allowed the corners of his lips to upturn.

“I should be going anyway.”

“Thank you for everything, Shika!” You smiled. Looking down at your face, Shikamaru couldn’t help but return your expression. His eyes traveled from yours to Neji and the pleasantness retreated from his features. He gave the other Jounin a look of warning.

“Of course. Happy Birthday.” He told you, gaze locked with Neji.

You didn’t notice the emphasis as you waved your friend off. Instead, you turned back to Neji. You beamed at him as he inspected you and once again, Neji wondered to himself. He scowled at your batted eyelashes. You were ditched by your friends on your birthday but you still stood in front of him with a smile.

Neji took a step closer. You flinched as his hands reached up around your head. He grasped your hitai-ate and pulled it down over your eyes.

“Um… Neji?” You peaked out from under the thin sheet of metal.

“I have a surprise for you, do you want it or not?” He glanced down. Neji sighed. “I have something that I wish to show you if you would let me.”

You nodded and let him tighten the hitai-ate around your eyes.

Neji led you down the street. Your vision was pitch black beneath the blindfold. You stumbled, only to be caught by a sturdy set of hands. Neji laced his fingers around yours. You felt him gingerly wrap his arm around your shoulder as he guided you. The two of you continued on.

You faltered when you stepped off the pavement. The steps you took were careful but Neji gave you all the patience you needed. Neji stopped you and went around behind you to untie your forehead protector. As it gradually slipped off, Neji’s surprise was revealed to you.

“The Hyūga clan’s secret garden,” He told you. Your hitai-ate came to hang around your neck. “These are sacred grounds upheld by Hyūgas for generations.”

The azaleas were in full bloom. Hues of red, pink and white littered landscape in between stone fixtures. Petals flurried in the wind, wrapping around the flaps of your qipao. You wandered deeper into the garden in awe. The garden looked like a dream. You ran up to the bridge that arched over the small pond. A wisteria vine wrapped itself around the handrails. You looked out over the lotuses that bloomed in the water. Neji stood next to you as you gazed out at the view.

“Do you enjoy the garden?” You turned to him, eyes sparkling. You clicked.

“Yes! I love it.” You turned back to the dancing petals in the wind.

“Well, good.” Neji straightened his posture. “You’re always so excitable. Clicking at everything you might as well have something worth the excitement.” He scoffed. “I don’t quite understand it.” You giggled as the Hyūga rolled his eyes. He glanced down at you, frowning. “See? This is exactly-”

“Neji?” He stared into your wide, joyful eyes.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

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