#i’m in my early twenties. i hate this. i should be able to walk. i should be able to sit. i should be able to bend over

[lesbianpegbar]

i’m sooooo fucking sick of my chronic pain rn. tried to stretch this morning to see if i could find some relief and i couldn’t !! even sit with my legs straight out in front of me because it hurt too bad! legitimately incredibly distressing considering i used to be able to bend over completely flat doing ballet and gymnastics! my pain almost never lulls at any point in the day now and my foot tingles and i have trouble feeling it !! walking is becoming more and more difficult ! it’s going bad !!!

[ateezscupid]

hwas part NEEDS to be a ff

HELP HELP HELP i just saw this now, i was hoping someone asked 😭. and i’m so so sorry for seeing this late, the notification did NOT come in. i also changed it up a bit, hope you like ittt!

precious ✩ 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

plot - seonghwa cant focus when you overstim him during work.

genre - smut and fluff (if you squint)

warnings - switch!hwa x switch f!reader, sugar daddy!hwa, non!idol au, oral (both), facesitting, begging, masturbation, praising and degrading, fingering (f receiving), use of toys, dirty talk, pet names

wc - 3.5k

“do you have to go in today?” you crawl to the edge of the bed and pout. you hated waking up late to see your boyfriend already dressed and ready for work. not only would you be home alone for most of the day, but it would be like this monday through friday. honestly, it was expected. dating a man who was the CEO of a major tech company, you should’ve seen this coming.

“i don’t have to work that much today, so you don’t need to wait too long, baby.” seonghwa said as he buttoned his shirt. you could lie, though. he looked hot in a shit and tie.

“okay… what time do you think you’ll be coming home? i found this movie i wanna watch-“

“just because i said i’d be home early doesn’t mean i’ll stop working. i mean, i know i said i didn’t have to work they much but i still need to send and respond to emails. that and i have a whole bunch of people who i need to supervise or have interviews and meetings with. my schedule today is very… booked.” hwa turns to you with a frown.

“so you won’t be free at all today? not even for a second? are you even gonna stop and have lunch? you’re always working and it leaves me home alone. why cant you work from home like me?” this wouldn’t be the first time you tried convincing him to work from home.

“how many times are you going to ask me that and how many times am i going to say i can’t?” he chuckled at your cuteness. seonghwa walks over to you and places a hand on your cheek, kissing your forehead to try and stop you’re complaining. he’s gotten used to it, but he still felt bad whenever he left to get into his car.

“i still think it’s worth trying.” you finally get off of the bed and stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder to watch him fix his tie. you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek against his back.

“can i at least get a kiss goodbye?” you pour. seonghwa looked at you through the mirror and chuckles.

“love, you know if i start kissing you, i won’t be able to stop.”

“then don’t.” you reply. “i know you stop at dunkin’ donuts before you get on the highway, which means you leave twenty minutes earlier than you should. we have twenty minutes.”

“how the hell did you know i stop at—did you put a tracker on my phone again?” he chuckled, obviously not weirded out but flattered.

“no! i keep seeing dunkin’ donuts gift cards all over the place.” you let go of him. “and i checked your purchases on your card, nothing major.”

seonghwa turned to you and started laughing. you were so cute, he couldn’t deny your request. and you weren’t wrong, he was stopping at dunkin’ donuts before he actually had to get on the road and go to work. he places his hands on your shoulders.

“alright, twenty minutes. and after, we can try that idea you’ve always wanted to do.” he smiles and gently pushed you into the bed, making you lay on your back.

“the toy idea? see, i wanted to get one of those plugs for your prostate but i saw a cock ring that vibrated so i had to go for the second option!” you cheekily smile.

“you were about to buy me a butt plug?” hwa asked as he was undoing his tie.

“i wasn’t about to, i did.” you giggle. “if you don’t want it, i’ll take it. or you could give it to one of your horny little friends. i mean wooyoung.”

“no no, i’ll try it out. that fact that those four words willingly came out of my mouth says i don’t mind.”

that’s another thing you loved about seonghwa. he wasn’t afraid to try anything new, even if it was embarrassing. you did ask if he wanted to try wearing fishnets and he said no, but at least he gave it a bit of thought before turning down the ides when it was presented to him. all he wanted was to make you happy.

as if getting you multiple credit and debit cards wasn’t enough, he’d go out of his way to buy you things he knew you’d like. for example, those diamond earrings you two saw in the mall that one day. you didn’t bring them up again after, but he saw the way you looked at them. you wanted them. you were fully aware seonghwa was loaded, but you didn’t take advantage of that.

the only things you’ve spent a ton of money on is birthday parties, gifts and fancies, and clothes. most of the clothes and gifts were for you, but the rest were for seonghwa. it was your way of saying thank you for everything he’s done.

“seventeen minutes left.” you blurt out. “i know what we can do, or what i can do, let me suck you off!” you smile wide.

“or i could eat you out. i know i haven’t done it in a while and you seem to love my tongue.” hwa said as he stepped closer to you, messing with the strands of the tank top you had on.

“i think you have an obsession with eating me out, seonghwa.” you grab onto his shirt and pulled him over top of you, pecking him on the lips. “but i’m not completely against it.”

“oh? then sit on my face.” he tilts his head with a smile. “i’ll go easy on you since i know you have a meeting today. i don’t want you to be tired.”

“aw, you’re too kind.” his words make you blush. you sit up and scoot back on the bed. seonghwa kicked his shoes off and got on the bed next to you, laying on his back and pulling you over top of him. he grabs your hips and makes sure you were directly over his mouth. he looked hungry just looking at you.

luckily, you only wore a tank top and underwear to bed. he shifts your panties to the side and lowers your hips onto his face, earning a moan from you. you hold onto the headboard of your bed once you feel his tongue lick at your folds. now you’re desperately clinging onto the headboard trying to keep yourself stable.

the way he worked his tongue made you cry out in pleasure, lips wrapped around your clit with his tongue licking against the sensitive bud. your hand flew down and grabbed a handful of his hair, grinding your hips onto his mouth for more friction.

“mm, h-hwa…” you moaned, throwing your head back when two fingers started prodding at your hole. you needed to get away from his face, otherwise you’d squirt on him. you don’t want to do that.

“seonghwa, wai—“ before you could finish, his fingers entered you. he wasted no time pushing and pulling his fingers, curling them to hit the sensitive spots inside of you. your back arched and your thighs squeezed against his face. you were so close already, you needed to let go. he hummed against your heat, sending vibrations through your core.

you look down at him, making eye contact. his pretty brown orbs, you couldn’t help but think he looked adorable while trying to make you cum. as demanding and strict he was sometimes, he was soft when it came to you. of course he had his moments where he’d fuck you so hard, you actually thought he broke your back, but overall he was a big softie who wanted nothing more but to hear your pretty moans.

“hwa, i-i’m close!” you whimper, now gripping handfuls of his hair with both of your hands. you’re surprised how he didn’t have any bald spots yet because when you pull, you pull hard. it didn’t seem to bother him though.

“cum, baby, please.” he huffed against your pussy, continuing to finger you as you moved your hips back and forth to try and cum faster. and then, it happened. you came all over his fingers. seonghwa put his mouth back on you to lick up all of your juices, making sure not to miss a single drop as you came.

you felt like you were levitating once you did. he always managed to make you cum super hard, and he’d lick up what came out. it didn’t matter if he busted his load in you or not, he just wanted to eat you out.

your body almost flips onto his when coming down from your high. gently, seonghwa brings your body down and rests you on his lap, rubbing your back to calm you down. you two didn’t have much time for after care, but you didn’t mind this time. in fact, you were too lightheaded to even realize.

“you eat me out like a starved man…” you huffed, falling into him and breathing heavily on his chest. “i can’t even feel my legs all the way.”

“you’re adorable.” he kisses your forehead and sits up slowly not to startle you. “you still wanna use the toys on me?”

your head perked up upon hearing those words. then, you stood as if the feeling in your legs came back instantly. you get off of the bed and rush over to your side of the closet, grabbing a small black plastic bag that hung on the back of it. you take out a plug and a cocking, then the two remotes that go with it. seonghwa seemed nervous just looking at the toys, but he wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover.

“you’re still okay with using these, right?” you ask. he nods his head quickly and scoots to the edge of the bed. he was definitely happy, so there was that.

“alright, bend over.”

he was a taken aback from hearing those words from from you, but it obviously wasn’t the first time he’s heard them. he does so without word, moving his pants and boxers down enough so you could put the toys on him. he was already semi-hard.

you grab a small bottle of lube from your nightstand and open it, squeezing some onto the plug first. you giggle and press it against him before pushing it inside. he thought you were lying when you said it stimulated your prostate. his body jolts forward, a moan coming from his parted lips and you couldn’t help but giggle. it must’ve been pressing on it roughly for him to respond like that.

then the cockring. you grab his erection from behind gently put the ring around him. hwa forgot how tight the rings were since he hadn’t worn one in a long time. he definitely needed to dress casually today. a suit wasn’t going to help him conceal this at all. he didn’t want to feel his pants getting tight while talking to his co-workers.

“okay, now to test the vibrator part to make sure they work!” you say as you look at the remotes in your free hand. now holding one in each, you look at the plug vibrator. you giggle a bit before turning it up to three.

seonghwa didn’t even bother trying to stay up. he fell to his knees, his arms still resting on the mattress as his entire body trembled. the new sensation was a bit different than before.

“holy fucking—“ he began, closing his eyes as his chest began heaving up and down. “fuck fuck fuck, oh my fucking god.”

“it’s not even at the highest setting!” you laugh. “you wanna test the highest setting?”

“please, i just wanna—shitshitshitshit!” he grips the bed sheets once his plug is at the top speed. he didn’t even try silencing his moans, he felt like he was going crazy. he hid his face in his arms and arched his back, shaking his head as if he were telling you to turn it down, and you did. he fell limp, panting heavily.

“you still want me to try the ring-“

“please, oh my god..” he whined. you happily oblige and look at the remote for the cockring, turning it to the top speed. you saw him reach down, holding his cock in his hands when he felt the vibrations. he was semi-hard, but now he’s red and pulsing. that was quicker than you imagined.

“b-baby, get…get my lounge outfit, please.” he huffs. you turn the vibrations off and walk over toward the closet. you grab the black hoodie and grey sweatpants he was talking about, rushing back over and sitting them on the bed in front of them.

“you look like a whore down there.” you giggle. “using these toys are gonna be fun!”

“y/n, oh my gosh.” seonghwa moaned into his hand. he thought he would be able to handle both vibrators at once, but he was terribly mistaken.

“hmm?” you hum into the phone, swaying back and forth. you were in the kitchen making cookies for when he got back, while also having the two remotes placed next to you. the ring’s speed was at 5, while his plug was at a 6. it was only a matter of time until you put them both at ten.

“i cant focus when you have these—please just come down here. i’m begging you.” he whimpers into the phone. you didn’t say anything as you dumped a bag of chocolate chips into a bowl.

“y/n, p-please.” hwa begged. he’s been begging for the past two hours. begging for you to come to his workplace and fuck the shit out of him, and begging for his release. the orgasm denial part wasn’t even your choice, it was his. he only made it harder on himself.

“give me a good reason to go down there and maybe i will.” you looked at your phone, grabbing a spoon and mixing the ingredients in your bowl.

“i-if you come… i’ll—fuck,” he couldn’t even finish his sentences. the sensation was making him feel lightheaded. he needed to push through this. “if you come, i-i’ll take a week off j-just for you.”

“a week? that’s generous.” you say, pushing your phone away from you and getting ready to roll up the cookie dough. on the other side of the phone, you heard seonghwa shuffling around at his desk. it was clear he was struggling to sit still. you couldn’t blame him since he did have a vibrator inside of him.

“baby, please, can i at least touch myself…” he asked as he continued to shift around in his seat. that made you laugh.

“i thought you needed to focus on something? you said you needed to focus.”

“i’m trying to focus on not driving home right this second and pinning you to the bed.” seonghwa mumbled. you heard this and went quiet. he went quiet as well, which was enough to tell you he knew he was wrong. you click your tongue and nod slowly, walking toward the sink and beginning to wash your hands.

“y-y/n?” he spoke. he was so adorable. hwa cleared his throat to try and distract himself from what he said, acting as if he was looking at something else. “i-i think i’m fine—“

you turned both of the vibrators up to ten.you took the two remotes and brought them to the bedroom, putting them in a drawer then walking back into the living room. you were waiting for seonghwa to act up to do that.

“you okay, hwa?” you ask into the phone, hearing his whimpers and moans as he grips onto the desk in front of him.

“f-fuck, i’m sorry i’m so sorry, t-turn them down, please!” he pushed his chair back and lurched forward, shuddering trying to control himself. he failed miserably. his pants were tightening around him, even though he was wearing sweats, and his body was heating up faster than before. he felt like he was going to explode.

“i’ll be there in thirty minutes.” you say before hanging up.

seonghwa looked around his office for some sort of relief. he needed to do something. he knew you weren’t going to allow him to touch himself, but you never said he couldn’t—

“the couch.” he mumbles. he was going to hump the couch. he scrambled out of his chair and rushed toward the windows that see through his office, rolling the blinds down and flipping the sign in front to “do not disturb”. he was glad he hadn’t gotten rid of that sign.

seonghwa walked over to his sofa and grabbed a pillow, placing it down then laying down so his waist was right on the pillow. he pulls his pants down then his boxers, positioning himself then lowering himself onto the pillow. he let out a sigh of relief once he felt the soft fabric of the pillow touch his throbbing erection. it was painful even moving, so he hoped this would help him.

he didn’t wait to start thrusting wildly onto the pillow, his fist on the armrest of the couch and his forehead resting on it. he was so horny, he couldn’t even think. his hips stuttered, not just because he was already close to release, but because of the butt plug and cockring working simultaneously to drive him crazy.

“y/n…” he moans your name, now with one hand gripping the armrest and the other holding the pillow in place. he needed to cum. he didn’t care if he got it in the couch or not, he needed to let go. it was painful holding it in, and even worse that he was being stimulated while sensitive.

“f-fuck, so close… s-so close,” he mutters to himself, eyes shut tight with his chest heaving up and down. all he needed to do was cum and all of this would be over. or, it would be over once you came.

before he was able to cum, you barged into his office and shut the door behind you, pulling him up by his hair and causing him to halt his movement. you’ve never seen him this desperate before.”

“seonghwa… look at you,” you chuckle quietly. “humping your pillow like a pathetic slut. you couldn’t even wait thirty minutes.”

“p-please, y/n i cant…” his glossy eyes look into yours. “touch me, p-please please please. i’ll be good, just please.”

“hm. you want me to touch you, pretty boy?” you raise your eyebrow then sit down on the sofa next to him. he struggles to even sit up, scooting closer and shoving his face into your neck. you get off the couch and crouch down in front of him, curling your fingers around his cock and admiring it. it was red and veiny, pulsing as if it was telling you to suck it off.

you loved how seonghwa’s body set off every sensor in your body. yeah, you loved taking control of him, but whenever you had the chance you couldn’t help but feel like you were slipping into sub space. his moans were so cute, you’d get drunk off of them.

opening your mouth, you enveloped his tip with your lips, causing his body to jerk and his hips to thrust up into your mouth. he pushed his cock further into your mouth, and you happily took him down your throat.

“g-god, your mouth…” he entangled his fingers in your hair, moaning loudly. he didn’t care about his coworkers hearing him anymore, he needed some sort of relief.

“you’re driving me crazy, y/n.” he whimpered. you bring your head back up and use both of your hands to wrap around his member. not even a second later, you were sucking him off as if you were in a porno. you were getting into it without giving him time to prepare.

“mm, my p-pretty girl,” seonghwa whimpers as he approaches his climax. his moans became louder and the grip on your head getting tighter. “y-you’re such a slut for me.”

then, seonghwa’s back arched. he placed both of his hands on the sofa and gripped onto the couch cushions, hips digging back into it as he moaned. you felt your mouth full with his juices. he was in complete ecstasy when you looked up, face flushed and his jaw hung. his thighs shook underneath you as he emptied his load inside your mouth.

it was tingly, it was good, and he felt like you were milking him dry. and as you swallowed his mess, your hand grazed his shaky thigh gently as a way to calm him down. he didn’t have a clue whether to keep his mouth open or close it. his orgasm was so powerful, his mind went blank.

“p-please, please please please…” seonghwa begs silently, chest heaving. “you’re so good, so so good for me. i love you, princess.”

you take your mouth off of his length and smile, finally getting up and pecking him on the lips.

“i love you too, my prince.”

@cup1dtiny ✩ #cupids requests !!

[coffeebanana]

Summary

If a little dancing can help Ladybug de-stress, Adrien doesn't mind if she doesn't know all the steps.

Written for the @ladrienjune prompt "slow dance." Posted early because I have no self-control 😂.

Read on Ao3 or under the cut!

...

At the sound of Ladybug crashing into something—the foosball table, as it turned out—Adrien set down his pen and swivelled around in his desk chair, watching as she rubbed her hip and returned to pacing around his room. She'd shown up twenty minutes ago, insisting she didn't want to distract him from finishing his homework once she'd realized he was working on it, and had then started wandering around like she might implode if she stopped.

He'd let her be for a while—experience told him that sometimes she just needed to get something out of her system. But at this point, he doubted whatever was bothering her was something she'd manage to walk off.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, almost crashing into the sofa as well. And under other circumstances, Adrien might have smiled. He loved every side of this girl who’d long ago stolen his heart. Her inability to walk straight was no exception.

(“Besides,” she would say if he teased her about it, “what kind of bisexual would I be if I walked straight?”

And Adrien would follow up with some joke about how he should stop walking in runway shows if that was a qualification for being bi.)

But today didn't feel like the time for jokes.

“W-what?” she said.

He shrugged, following her lead when she glanced away—he didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed. But he missed having her in his line of sight—even when he’d been finishing up his math problems he’d been able to see her reflection on his darkened computer screen. So he quickly shifted his eyes back to her, smiling when he noticed she was watching too.

“Whatever’s on your mind.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say…”

“I know. I could just…tell.”

“Ugh.” She made a face as she slumped down on the couch’s armrest, falling back against the cushions a second later. “I’m the worst company today, aren’t I? Sorry. I can go if I’m too much of a distraction.”

“No!” Adrien shouted, loud enough that Ladybug sprung back to a sitting position, bracing herself on the back of the couch. He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout, I just...well, I don't want you to go. I love it when you visit, and I’m almost done with my homework anyways. It just seems like…maybe you’re upset about something?”

Ladybug stood, fiddling with her hands as she slowly made her way towards him. She stopped beside him, and for a second he—foolishly—hoped she might sit in his lap. Instead she leaned against the edge of his desk, tracing a finger over the numbers and variables he'd inked into the page.

"I'm not...upset, exactly," she said. "More like...stressed. But it's no big deal." She shrugged. "Just life stuff."

She sent him a somber smile—the kind that had I'm trying to tell you I'm fine—totally FINE! But actually I'm coming apart at the seams HAHAHA written all over it. Adrien knew it well. But he hated seeing it on someone he loved.

"Is there any way I could help?" he asked.

"I mean, if you could take down Shadow Moth, that would be great."

"No problem!" He smiled. "Be right back."

Committed to the bit, Adrien was steps away from his bathroom when a giggle cut him off. "Are you hiding him in the shower or something?"

"Psssh. No! I was trying to fake a dramatic exit."

"Through the bathroom? Were you going to jump out the window? Slide down the drain?"

"Actually, there's a secret passageway behind the mirror."

"Wait. Really?"

He laughed. "No. But good to know you believe me so easily."

"Pfft. That was the last time, Agreste."

"Uh-huh..."

Still grinning, Adrien made his way back to the desk. When he got there, he rolled the chair away in favour of leaning against the desk beside her. He wasn't bold enough to sit so close that their hands would brush, but he was rewarded anyways when Ladybug leaned her head against his shoulder. Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Or ten.

He wanted to say something else, but he didn't dare disturb the moment.

"I just have so much to do," she said. "But it's all stuff I have to wait for. Like, I'm organizing an event for my class at school, but nobody's getting back to me about what they can bring. And I promised my parents I'd help them install some new shelves, but the order keeps getting delayed. And then there's Hawk Moth, who could strike at any time. And like...the only things I could probably get started on are a few projects for school. Except those aren't due for at least a few more days, so I can't seem to make myself actually start them, and so I keep just playing things over and over in my head, trying to figure out what activity I'm going to slot in when, but there's no good answer, and ugh. I have fifteen kwamis in my room, including one I could use to see the future, but then, like, that might" —her next words were encased in bunny ears— "mess up the timeline."

She sighed, hands slumping back to her sides. "Which really means that none of the superpowers at my disposal are actually helpful, and it's just...I feel like I'm never going to get anything done, which is stupid, I know, but..."

She finished by standing up—Adrien immediately missed her warmth at his side—and throwing her hands up in frustration while she made some indecipherable noise. Then her eyes locked on his and widened, like she'd only just remembered he was there.

"I don't think it's stupid," he said gently. "I think...it's amazing you do all that and still manage to be as wonderful as you are."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect as intended, making her shoulders slump. "But I'm not wonderful. I snapped at my best friend today, and at my cru—uuuh...at my other friend." She started pacing again. "And now I'm dumping all my problems on you, and you probably think I'm crazy, and you'll never invite me back here, and..."

She listed a few more things Adrien couldn't quite make sense of—something about kids and hamsters?—but he didn't think the words were really for him anymore. Unable to watch her keep spiraling, he stood and walked over, stopping her mid-sentence by setting his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey," he said. "I'm sure everything will turn out okay."

Her gaze dropped to her feet. "Maybe..."

"Definitely."

She only sighed in response.

Adrien debated his next words carefully. Part of him wondered if he was secretly being selfish considering his next question—the idea was definitely thrilling to him. But if he were in her position, he was pretty sure it was what he would want someone to ask, even if he weren't in love with that someone. And he probably didn't have much to lose.

"Would you like a hug?"

Her eyes shot back up to his, gleaming with some emotion that sent a thrill through him. Then she nodded, and Adrien wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her.

Of course she fit well there—he'd hugged her enough as Chat Noir to know that. But he wasn't expecting the way she practically melted into his embrace, or the way his heart rate skyrocketed when her breath ruffled his T-shirt. She smelled of something sweet and floral—he'd ask her what shampoo she used if that weren't so creepy. And even the way the ends of her pigtail brushed against his arm when she turned her head was a tiny bit of ecstasy he was certain he'd remember for the rest of his life.

But the hug wasn't about him

"Do you feel better?" he asked maybe a minute later, rubbing a hand down her back. She didn't answer, so he pulled back and searched her expression. "Ladybug?"

Her face crumpled. "No. I still can't stop thinking about everything. And you're being so nice, which must make me awful, and—"

"It doesn't," he assured her. "You're still incredible."

That time, his compliment earned him a tiny smile.

"Maybe you just need a better distraction," he said, before he had to watch that smile fade. "We could...play some mecha strike?"

She shrugged, shaking her hands at her sides. "I feel too...jittery to sit down."

"Ah. Okay. I guess that means a movie's out of the question."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I promise. We'll figure something out." Adrien bit his lip, looking around the room. So much stuff, but none of it was useful. Then an idea popped into his head that tugged a smile onto his face. "We could...dance?"

Ladybug laughed. "I can't even walk without running into something, and you want me to move other parts of my body at the same time?"

"So, we'll slow dance then. No way you mess that up."

She snorted. "No, but I can totally hurt you when I step on your feet twelve thousand times."

"Twelve thousand? That would actually be impressive."

She laughed again, then sobered. "But do you really...do you want to dance with me?"

Suddenly nervous, Adrien resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Instead he reached out his left hand, trying to project confidence despite the flutters that rippled through him when he noticed her cheeks redden. "It would be my honour."

Taking a deep breath, Ladybug reached for his hand. Adrien followed up by taking a half-step closer and hesitantly settling his free hand on her waist. After that, she seemed at a loss with what to do with her other arm, but she slowly bent her elbow and placed a hand on his chest. Instinct—from lessons he'd taken years ago—told him she should technically put her hand a little higher, but he pushed those feelings aside, trying his best to focus on nothing but her.

That wasn't exactly hard when her eyes found his.

"S-see?" he said, a little breathless. "You're already a pro."

She bit her lip, unable to conceal her smile. "We're not even moving yet."

"Well, that's not so hard either." He took a small step back. "Just one step after the other."

"One after the other," she repeated in a whisper, lowering her gaze as she followed his first step.

They went on like that for a while, in small slow steps, eventually building up some semblance of rhythm. Ladybug started humming some song at some point—one with 4/4 timing that didn't at all work for the waltz he'd been counting in his head. But somehow that made the moment even more perfect, like how when she finally stopped paying so much attention to each step, she giggled every time she stumbled into him.

She was finally smiling, and nothing else mattered

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest when they got tired of actual dancing and ended up swaying slowly behind by the window. "I feel better now."

Lost in the moment, Adrien didn't even think before bending down to kiss her head. "Me too, my lady."

...

Thanks for reading!! 💜

[timemachineyeah]

This is going to be a vent post. I’m fine. It’s okay! Sometimes I just need to rage uselessly against things no one can control before once again trying to be my usual pragmatic make-the-best-of-things self.

If you do not wish to read a vent, that’s understandable. Please scroll. Okay. 😘

Jesus Charcuterie Christ I am so fucking sick of chronic illness.

I am tired of the dirty bathroom, which I cannot clean because the energy just doesn’t exist even though I want to clean it. Even though I like cleaning a bathroom! When I was a kid I used to volunteer to be the one assigned to the bathroom!

This morning I woke up and changed the litter and I think a box was heavier than I had anticipated or something but I ended up so exhausted I couldn’t really stand or move my arms. It took me twenty minutes to eat a yogurt cup. My brother came home with groceries and I couldn’t jump up to help him put them away. I wanted to get out of his hair by going back to my room but I needed to sit for another hour before I had rested enough to walk back up the stairs.

It’s not always this bad. But god, when it’s this bad I want to scream. I want to tear out the tongues of every well meaning person or doctor who’s ever told me to just slowly try to build my stamina. Have you tried yoga? You should be doing aerobic exercise to the point of not being able to speak between breaths at least three time a week! My body gives out before I can get winded. My hands shake. I can’t open the cracker box. I can barely swallow. Sometimes I can’t hold a conversation. I hate it. I hate it.

I went to the doctor in March and made a follow up appointment that was supposed to happen today, but I got a call that it was canceled and rescheduled for next month. I should be relieved because I was really going to have to push myself to get there. I was able to go back to bed. Instead I just want the doctor to see me. To hear me. To do something.

“We’re not going to be able to support you forever”, my mom tells me, at least once or twice a month. Not to be shaming. She’s just telling the truth. My parents are aging. Their income is decreasing, their health is declining, they don’t know how Dad’ll ever be able to retire but his job is actively killing him. I never know what to say. I always say, “I know”, because I know. But I also know I literally cannot do any more than I’m doing. I had to take breaks between lifting the yogurt spoon to my mouth. I had to take the stairs one at a time.

I want to do so many things. I have so many ideas, so many dreams, so many causes. I want to scream, “Mom, you more than anyone know how stubborn I am! How determined I can be!!!” I am too tired to even have big feelings. Anger and despair are both exhausting. A good mood gives me more energy, so I have become So. Fucking. Tempered. Kind. Balanced. Rosy. I can and WILL find the bright side if it fucking kills me because if I don’t it will. But even that is tiring. It’s so tiring to not be able to have the bad feelings because you know the bad feelings will cost you even more of your life.

I know this is real. I just want any other person to know it too, as surely as I do. I just wish a doctor could see it, acknowledge its truth, tell me why. Bonus points if they can make it even a little better.

I looked up the date of my first MRI, the one I got when this all started. A few weeks ago while lying on the floor between my bedroom and the bathroom I started to wonder about MS, the disease that killed my mother’s little sister. It was the first thing I suspected when this all started so it was the first thing they looked for. I looked up that MRI, and it was in 2014.

Eight years. This has been going on for eight years.

I might have them do another, on the off chance this IS multiple sclerosis and the first MRI was just too early. I was gonna ask about it today, but the appointment was canceled.

I want to clean the bathroom. Maybe I can just clean the sink. Maybe that won’t be too much.

I miss going on long walks. I used to walk ten miles in a day. Now a block wipes me out.

I am adjusting. I am accommodating myself as much as I can. I am doing my best. If it never gets better I will find a way to make the best of what I’ve got.

But eight years. God fucking dammit. I could’ve done so much. Who would possibly fake this and why. For what??? Attention? Sympathy? Where. I don’t get those things. To get out of work? Even the work I love? Even play? Even free time and friends??? I lose those things as much, if not more. I am not married, I don’t have kids - these are things I wanted! I want to date! Fuck! I’m so mad. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon on a Monday and I am sitting in my room with the lights off and all the curtains drawn around my bed typing on my phone made as dark as possible so it doesn’t strain my eyes and I would rather be doing so many other things. Instead I’m probably going to go back and forth between a video game and my bed all day. Maybe I’ll wash the sink.

It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. But this is real. This is so real. I have lost so much. This isn’t fun for me. It’s not a game. And it should be a cry for help, because I need help, but I actually fucking hate asking for help. I just want to be able to do it myself. That’s all I ever wanted.

[asterkiss]

Still alive, barely.

To prove it have something written up quickly that never really went anywhere and is very much a shell of an idea that didn’t get finished.

Prompt: Everyone gets a random power when they turn 18. Unfortunately, yours is rather boring.

The second the clock struck midnight, Mabel squealed in delight and set off a confetti bomb across Dipper’s bedroom. The boy protested at the mess but was cut off by his twin jumping on his bed enthusiastically.

‘It’s happening, it’s happening! We have powers!’ She threw her arms out emphatically but no blasts or elements sparked out of them which was a bummer. Hmmm. She came to a stop and closed her eyes tightly, lips pursed as she concentrated.

‘….What are you doing?’

‘I’m imagining a beautiful unicorn made from candy. Has one appeared?’

‘No. It hasn’t.’

She reopened her eyes. ‘Urgh.’

‘Cm’on, it takes some people years to figure out what their superpower is,’ Dipper explained. Although most people went to be expertly researched and diagnosed with their superpower if it had been more than a few months. It was generally considered a bad idea to be walking around with an unknown power in case it went off at the wrong time.

‘I guess,’ she muttered, gaze falling towards him and-

Huh.

Mabel blinked at him.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘You have the number ‘18’ floating over your head,’ she said, pointing.

Dipper glanced up but saw nothing. He even cast himself a glance in the mirror but there was nothing there. A moment later he perked up. ‘Hey, that must be your power!’

‘What, having random numbers over people’s heads? Urgh, you know I hate maths, Dipper. This is more your thing, maybe it got mixed up between us being twins.’

‘I mean, we just turned eighteen. It’s probably my age. We can test it on mom and dad when they wake up.’

‘Uuuuurgh.’ Mabel groaned, falling onto his bed. ‘That’s so boring though! You can have this power instead.’

‘I don’t think it works that way.’

‘I want a redo!’

>

And so Mabel Pines could see the age of anyone she looked upon, and she was sour as hell about it. Her best friends had super amazing powers like brute strength or teleportation, whilst she obtained something as mundane as this.

Life was so unfair.

At least Dipper’s power didn’t turn out to be super awesome. He could become half transparent. So not totally invisible but just a little bit. He complained for days after trying to tell her to put up with her power – the hypocrite.

She supposed her power could be somewhat useful at least. She’d be able to tell if a guy was lying about his age on a date.

Other than that, she wouldn’t be rescuing any innocents anytime soon with her superpowers.

But it may just land her being involved with a villain.

Oops.

>

She was at a fun fair with the girls a few months later, seated on a bench with all their bags of stuff as the other two used the bathroom. Her gaze drifted across the crowd, taking in their faces and the varying digits hovering after them.

But then she saw something unusual.

Triple digits.

Now, sure, there were some people who were lucky enough to make it past one hundred but the individual appearing beneath those three figures was a young man who looked like he was in his early twenties!

She tried blinking several times, but the numbers didn’t lie.

-And then, as if feeling her gaze upon him, he turned to meet her gaze across the field. She froze beneath his piercing eyes, feeling bound to the spot. She should look away. She should really look away like right now!

In the end she was saved by her friend’s reappearance as they stepped in front of her and blocked the stranger from view. She glanced up at them as they retrieved their goodie bags.

‘Are you okay, Mabel?’ Candy asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Uh….’ She laughed nervously. ‘I might have.’

‘Urgh, don’t joke about that,’ Grenda muttered, shuddering. ‘I hate ghosts.’

Anything else Mabel could say died on her throat as a voice cleared their throat from behind. Both her friends parted and turned around to reveal the young man smiling politely at them. ‘Hi there, ladies,’ he said, voice smooth like honey. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting.’

Candy and Grenda immediately giggled and blushed. ‘No, no, of course not!’

He smiled at them before his gaze slid Mabel’s way, and her heart skipped a beat though from attraction or fear she wasn’t quite sure. ‘Hope you don’t mind but I spotted you across the way and had to come say hello to an angel like yourself. Would you do me the honour of letting me borrow you for a quick word?’

> 

She was never given the option to say no. Her friends all but threw her his way as they giggled.

The man, who introduced himself as Bill, invited her onto the Ferris wheel. Mabel wanted to say no, but her eyes continued to glance at the number above him and the curious part of her agreed and went with him.

Neither of them said a word as they got in and sat opposite one another, and as the ride moved, he smiled across politely at her. Mabel couldn’t be entirely sure if it was the moving shadows or not, but his expression seemed to become more sinister as their carriage went higher.

Then they came to a halt at the top.

And he spoke.

‘So, what’s your power?’

‘Huh?’

He stared at her, smile still in place. ‘You’re older than eighteen, yes? What power do you have?’

Mabel paused, before pursing her lips. ‘Why don’t you tell me yours?’

His eyes narrowed; his smile became tighter. ‘I asked first.’

‘Well, I asked second.’ Nice comeback.

Bill’s smile finally vanished, and oh why wasn’t the ride moving yet? He leaned towards her, the space within their carriage rather small for two people now that she thought about it. She could practically feel his breath on her from this proximity.

‘What did you see?’ he hissed, eyes darkening.

‘N-Nothing.’

‘You’re a bad liar, kid,’ Bill drawled. ‘You were staring at me.’

‘So? You’re , um, good looking.’

‘I am, but you weren’t looking at me with the same googly eyes your dumb friends had.’

‘Hey!’

‘You looked anxious,’ he replied. ‘Bewildered, confused, even a little bit scared.’

‘Why would I be scared of you?’ she countered, glaring at him as she tried to put on a strong front.

He smiled. ‘You tell me.’

Mabel swallowed uneasily, refusing the temptation to glance up once again above his head. The numbers didn’t lie, they were still the same.

‘My dear friend won’t move the carriage until I give him the signal,’ Bill went on. ‘And I won’t do that until you tell me what you know.’

Oh God.

Was he immortal or something, perhaps? Was his ability that he couldn’t die? That would make the most sense. But he seemed rather sinister, and Mabel was anxious what he would do if she revealed she knew his secret.

So, she lied.

‘I… can tell when someone’s going to die.’

His expression shifted; his earlier ire replaced with surprise. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that. Mabel shifted in her seat, eyes briefly flickering above his head once again.

‘What do you see?’ he whispered; gaze intense as he pressed his lips flatly together.

‘Numbers,’ she replied. That part was true. She was a bad liar so if she mingled it with the truth, it would be easier to come off as genuine. Dipper had told her that once before. ‘Above people’s heads.’

He leaned away from her, gaze darkening as his expression became subdued. ‘And what do the numbers above me tell you?’

She couldn’t exactly say the guy was going to live a long life to appease him or else he’d question why she’d been staring at him oddly and know she was bluffing.

So, the opposite, it was.

‘Fourteen days,’ she blurted, and his eyes widened.

‘I have fourteen days left to live?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded.

‘Hm. And this power, does it relate to the body or soul?’

‘I…’ Mabel blinked, tilting her head. ‘How does that matter?’

‘Oh, it matters,’ he replied, flashing a menacing grin as he raised his arm out the window. The ride abruptly stirred into movement once again, and Mabel glanced down as the ground came towards them once again. She wondered what he was thinking. How did an immortal feel hearing the news he was going to imminently die? (Even if it was a lie).

‘I think you and I should talk further,’ Bill said with a smile, eyes flashing.

‘Oh, uh, thanks but I have plans with my friends, so….’

He leaned closer, smile widening.

‘I wasn’t asking.’

The next second darkness overcame her.

The last thing she saw were the numbers “519” flashing above his head before she succumbed.

[bucklemonster2]

29/07/2023 Dreams by Emilia Sameyn (English version)

Hello everyone, I had some interesting dreams one night. So I decided to share them. Feel free to use them in your creative works, or speculate about their meaning. Thanks - Emilia Sameyn

(what I saw in my dream, made with AI and GIMP)

1. The Devils Kid

I dreamed about me watching one of those true crime stories on YouTube. It was about a man who killed a woman. It's the 1980's the man discovered his girlfriend had made love with a devil, a literal devil, so the man decided to kill her. However he was somehow transported from the 1980's to the early 2000's. He was confused, but that did not stop him, he found his ex girlfriend and killed her! That devil, became angry upon hearing about this! He however sees time non-linearly, so either out of blind anger, or because he wanted his son to grow up with a mom, he sent the man from 1980 twenty years forward in time! The man was punished before he killed her, but he killed her which led to the angry devil and his punishment. The child was saddened, of course, but at least he was able to grow up with his mom.

2. Extreme Right VS Bronies

I was walking at night with a group of Bronies (Grown-up Fans of My Little Pony). It was in my street. For some reason there were Nazi's in the street as well, passing by. They seemed rowdy, al ready kicking one of their "friends" a fellow Nazi, until he fell to the ground. They kept kicking him, not to hard, as a "joke".

A friend of me was sitting at the side of the street, he was confused. He asked me: "Should I join the Nazi's or the Left-wing Bronies?" I said, don't choose for hate, choose for love, we may be cringe but at least we aren't violent and full of hate. The Nazi's seemed to come closer. I'm a person who mostly is prepared for when things go south. I looked, if I had something to defend myself with, but I did not have my umbrella. I looked around and saw a plastic spray-bottle. 'I could throw that, if things go south. As a distraction or 'weapon.' ' I thought. However it was already to late, the Nazi's came closer, and decided to target us. One grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me towards him. He was a head taller than me, but thin. I was afraid of course, and instinctually grabbed his neck with one arm. I thought to myself "neck, and knees are the weak spot, maybe I can kick him in the knees". However the Nazi just wanted to intimidate me, and pulled me away. Probably realizing it wasn't smart to hurt or kill himself through midnight brawls. However he tried to pass it off as if his intimidation technique worked and as if he decided we were 'to weak' or something. The Nazi's walked away, and I was relieved there wasn't really a fight.

3. Many Souls, One Body

I dreamed about how I was dead. It turned out, there was not one, but between 10 and 20 souls inside my body! A man in a uniform, an angel,

showed us a projection on a screen: 'Alright, everyone this is going to be our next life!' On screen we saw a glimpse of our future a six year old girl, her long hair hear was between brown and blond. She was going about her day. In one snippet she was playing in the garden, in the next she was eating a sandwich. The souls around me looked like ordinary people. Some were around 20 but most of them were middle aged and older. Most were silent, some exclaimed positive reactions. 'Oh, that's nice!' 'Isn't she lovely' an 80 year old woman said.

I realized every individual person on earth, every personality, were actually multiple personalities. Each person had 10 or 20 personalities inside them. However when alive, the personalities seem to forget they are many, fusing into one personality. 'This is us' slowly becomes: 'this is me'. Another factor might be: as babies our brains need to develop and we forget our previous lives. Each "mini" personality contributes more or less to ones "big" personality. Even though each personality has their own fears, hopes and dreams, they do not seem to mind to be working as one. Probably when we live our lives, we feel different things often at the same moment. There are different ways we could react and we always decide or act one option. These "mini" personality's could explain why we have conflicted emotions. One "personality" wants this, and another personality wants something else. They might be the voices in our head, when one side of you says 'Do it now, bro!' when another says 'Wait a moment, don't do it, what are your other options, dear?'

There you go, these were my dreams. I hope you enjoyed reading them! - Emilia

[vanillanaps]

Not So Forbidden | Bucky Barnes

Summary: You were upset after a mishap that happened so your favorite bodyguard came to comfort you with good news.

A/n: I watched a movie called First Daughter and got inspired to write something cute and soft. It's kinda ass tho so beware.

Category: Bodyguard!Bucky x President’s Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Reader is 23, Bucky is in his late 20s/Early 30s, some crying on the readers part, the ending is rushed cause my creativity ran out lmao

Word Count: 1.8k

♡♡♡♡

“Care Bear secured.” One of your many bodyguards called into the mic that hid in the sleeve of his blazer as you crossed the threshold to your room, slamming the door behind you.

Just moments ago you had been dragged from an outing with one of your very very few friends as your bodyguards thought there had been an opposing threat. Turns out, there was just a loose dog running the streets and had scared a few people, but they had refused to take you back to your friend and continued to drive you back to the oversized house that you had been calling home for the last eight years.

You missed having the freedom you used to have before your mom decided to run to be President of the United States and won. It was like everything changed in the blink of an eye for you. Once a little girl who could run amok outside without a care in the world to a girl who had to be the perfect child for her mothers sake. Of course before, you were happy your mother was chasing her dreams and doing what she had always planned to do when she was growing up, you just wish that you knew that it’d come with sacrificing your public and private life.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, wiping your tears and clearing your throat, “I said I wanted to be alone.”

“It’s me.” The voice called. You recognized it immediately.

James Buchanan Barnes or as you would call him, Bucky. He was the head of your security team and ironically, one of your best friends. Bucky had been at your side nearly every day for the last five years when he got promoted to head bodyguard. In your opinion, he should have truly been a bodyguard for your mother. He had always done a superb job at keeping you safe, neutralizing threats and knowing when it was actually time to pull you from somewhere that may have started to get dangerous or too crowded.

Walking over to unlock the door, not even bothering to open it because you knew he already had his hand on the knob just waiting to push through. Shutting the door behind him, he watched as you walked over to your vanity, still trying to dry your eyes.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, slowly approaching up behind you.

“Oh, your buddies didn’t call it out to you?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “Apparently a stray dog running the streets is a threat to my safety now and they whisked me out of there, leaving my friend behind and all.”

“They were just doing their job.” He tried to reason with you, but he knew how much you hated not being able to do the simple things in life without stuff like this happening.

Turning to look at him, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Right, so where were you? Where was the knight to save his damsel in distress from a damn dog? Isn’t that your job? To be by the helpless princess’s side twenty-four-seven?”

“I was in a meeting with your mother.” He stepped closer to you, “I’m sorry, if I was there, that wouldn’t have happened—but you can’t be upset with them doing what they are paid heavily to do.”

“God Bucky, I know, I know. I’m not mad at them, I’m—” You huffed, taking a deep breath as you tried to control your tears, “I’m mad at the fact that I will never have a normal life. Everywhere I go, there’s a group of big beefy men following me around, cameras flashing in my face, news reporters covering every little thing I do. My skirt too short? I’m a slut. I don’t smile in a picture? I’m the president’s stuck up daughter. If I smile too much? I’m faking it for the cameras. Almost every friend I’ve tried to make in those short two years I went to college? Just using me to get popular while talking about me behind my back. I just can’t win.”

Bucky sighed, “I know..”

“No, Bucky, honestly you don’t. Every day, when I walk out of this god forsaken place, I have to put on a smile and a personality that doesn’t belong to me. Everything that I do reflects on my mother and what kind of daughter would I be if I ruined something that she worked so hard for?” You ranted, “I mean, she’s the first female President of the United States. She’s making history and I’m so proud of her, but it cost me everything, Bucky, everything. To the point where I can’t even hold the hand of the man I love in public because he’s my bodyguard.”

“Come here.” He held his hand out which you gladly took as he pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “I’m sorry, baby.”

You relaxed in his embrace, sighing as you buried your face into his chest, smelling that cologne you bought for him not too long ago, “You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault.”

Kissing the crown of your head, slowly rocking the two of you from side to side, “I can’t change what happened earlier, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I can’t change the reality of the life you live, but if I could pull you through a portal and take you to a universe where you were just a normal girl, I would. But there is one thing I can change.

Smiling softly at his words, you pulled back a little to be able to look up into those blue eyes that you loved so much, “Yeah? What’s that?”

He returned the smile, bringing his hand up to cup your face, his thumb slowly stroking your cheek, “Your mother said something similar to me earlier,”

A FEW HOURS EARLIER…

Bucky knocked on the door that led to the oval office after he was requested there.

“Enter!” His boss's voice called.

“Madam President.” He addressed her, keeping his position by the door, “You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Barnes. Please, shut the door and have a seat.”

He followed her wishes, shutting the door and sitting in a chair that was adjacent to her desk, “Is everything okay, Madam President?”

She smiled, moving her stack of paperwork to the side and taking off her glasses, “Everything is fine, James. No need to worry. And please, right now you may call me Diane.” Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest, was this a set up? Was he being tested? Was she being threatened? A thousand thoughts flew through his head as he thought something was wrong, but before he could ask, Diane spoke again, “You may call me Diane because I didn’t call you here to talk to you about presidential or security reasons. I called you here to speak to you as a Mother to Y/n.”

Bucky gulped, deciding to play it cool, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

Diane chuckled, “James, do you take me as a fool?”

“Of course not, Madam President.” He answered quickly, playing it safe just in case this was a test.

She sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands over her lap, “Five years ago, when my only daughter turned 18, I knew that whether I was president or not, I wasn’t going to be able to keep an eye on her forever. That eventually, she’d want to venture off on her own and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. I needed someone who I could trust to keep an eye on her while she tried to navigate her life. I was talking to your father about you before his passing. He was telling me how dedicated you were to your job, even if you were only guarding a door, so I promoted you to Y/n’s head bodyguard as I promised him that you’d always have a job here as long as I was president.”

Bucky’s eyes glossed over at the mentioning of his father’s passing. It may have been some years, but you’d never truly get over the loss of a parent passing, “I’m not sure If I understand what we’re talking about.”

Diane continued, “James, over these last few years, I’ve been how close you and y/n have grown. Your secret whispers, inside jokes, the looks you give each other when you think no one’s looking, the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. Even sneaking out almost every night.” His head dropped. This was it, he was getting fired. He had broken the number one rule and fell for his boss’s daughter. He went to speak, but Diane kept going before he could, “And I want to thank you for being there for her and making all of this the smallest bit easier for her.”

When Bucky slowly looked up, he saw Diane with probably the most genuine smile he’d ever seen from her, “You do?”

She nodded, “After I was elected President, I knew life for the two of us would never be the same. That we’d always be in the public eye and crucified for everything that we do, which is why in those first few years of my presidency, I shielded her from it. Kept her in the house and out of the public eye for as long as possible and the best thing I could've ever done was make you her bodyguard because you make her happy. She’s sacrificed so much for me, what type of mother would I be if I kept her from being with the only person who makes her feel normal?” She questioned, more so to herself than to Bucky, “Do you love my daughter?”

“More than anything in this world.”

“Then who am I to stand in between love?

PRESENT…

Your eyes were wide and filled with tears as Bucky told you what happened in the meeting with him and your mother. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You were so sure that you and Bucky were being careful enough not to get caught, “She knew this whole time?”

He nodded, “And she’s okay with it. She just wants you to be happy.” You couldn’t stop the smile that took over your face before you excitedly pulled him into a kiss. Bucky gladly returned the kiss, titling his head to deepen it. His hands traveled down to your waist, gripping the flesh to lift you up into his arms. Your legs naturally wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bed and laid the two of you down on it, “I’m gonna marry you one day.” He mumbled against your lips, “I’m gonna take you away from all this. Maybe move to the country, somewhere far away from others and give you all the normalcy and privacy that you crave today.” A soft sob left your lips as you pressed your forehead against his, “Until then, I’ll be here, right by your side until your mother finishes her Presidency.”

“I love you so much.” You sighed, listening to his words.

“I love you more, baby.”

[beomblues]

21.

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader

Themes: heavy angst, breakup au, exes! au, profanity, mentions of blood but it’s just a metaphor, a touch of self guilt.

Wc: 1k.

: ̗̀➛ listen to 21 by gracie abrams!

❝i see the look in your eye and I'm biting my tongue, you'd be the love of my life when I was young❞

~

Today was the day Beomgyu turned twenty-one. 

You wished you hadn’t remembered, you wished you weren’t sitting alone in your little apartment, staring at your phone like a ghost. You hadn’t deleted his contact and were now wondering if you should call him and wish.

You couldn’t. Switching it off, you shut your eyes and wondered what he would be doing. Would he be thinking about your absence from an occasion you promised you’d be there for? One of the many promises you had to break when it came to Beomgyu, one of the many regrets.

Falling in love was too dangerous, you had realized, because all it ended in was hurt- not just for the person being broke up with, but the one doing the breaking up as well. From everything to nothing at all, the difference was jarring and harsh. 

You hated to think of him being happy and carefree right now, as selfish as that sounded. You hated that he could have possibly completely forgotten about you and moved on while you were sitting there, waiting for a sign to tell you that your decision was right.

If the dull ache in your chest said anything about that, you’d bet that it wasn’t. If it was still there by the time you were thirty, you would admit that it was a mistake.

It had been around four months since the day you walked away from him. The ghost of his pretty laughter and bright eyes haunted the walls of your loneliness, and then you’d wish it was real. You knew that if he saw the amount of times you almost called him, he would have laughed and teased you about it. 

Beomgyu was a spitfire, a bright golden streak in the monotony of your life. You would never understand how someone could make such a difference and cut so deep where you ended it. Doctors always said that you should never remove the object that has impaled you, because you would simply bleed out.

When you removed yourself from the relationship, somehow it ended up being you who bled, tears and all. It fucking hurt, because although it had been the right thing to do- at least in your mind- your heart despised you for it. 

Your friend told you about how she had seen him awake in the early hours of the morning, pacing around his room. You didn’t take any solace in the fact that he was hurting just as bad as you were, because it only served as a reminder for what you had gone and screwed up.

His mother had always loved you, he had said. She never called, and though you didn’t really expect it you sort of hoped that she would. You wanted to call just to check in on the boy you seemed to still love. 

You made so many empty promises and then broke them. Since they were so hollow, it was easy to snap into pieces, washed away by the current of your misery. You promised you would be there for his twenty-first birthday, he promised to be there for yours, and the thought made you laugh bitterly. 

Time was said to heal all wounds, so maybe you would move on one day. Maybe then you would be able to look back on your youth and your foolishness with fondness instead of regret. You’d be able to say that Beomgyu was the love of your life when you were young, and then maybe run into him one day and reminisce.

You thought about how he kissed you, the way he would laugh and smile against your lips and cause you to do the same. You thought about how his arms would be around you and lull you to sleep when you couldn’t, and how your fingers would run through his soft hair.

Falling in love when you were young meant that nothing lasted forever. The foundation was built with stilts that could never withhold the might of a storm, but it had been so beautiful never the less. ‘Love’ was a stretch, did you even know what that word meant?

Maybe you didn’t, but you liked to think that you and Beomgyu had been close to it. You liked to think that in another life he was still yours and you hadn’t walked away. 

You couldn’t bear to think of him half drunk and happy, with you being just a wisp of a thought. You knew he definitely deserved to have that after what you did though. This was your fault, and that had that dull ache returning to your chest, as if a rod was prodding at your heart as a reminder for what you had fucked up oh so well.

Perhaps you knew you had fucked up the moment you saw the look in his eyes, the way those usually bright eyes of his turned broken in a matter of minutes. You had never seen such a quick and drastic change in his demeanor, and you hated, absolutely loathed yourself for doing so.

You still cried sometimes, and you didn’t realize you were doing so now. Blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you pushed your phone further away from you. You didn’t want to ruin his evening, and you knew that you wouldn’t want him to call you either. It would just be too much.

You were content with being the love of his life when he was young. You only wanted to be a blissful memory, a story of his first love that he could tell when he was older. You hoped you were a worth enough story to tell.

“Happy birthday love,” you whispered to the emtpiness that cloaked your apartment, “Happy 21.”

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[mountswhore]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 — mason mount

summary: after an argument ensues between the two of you, you’d decided to go for a drive. only for it to end worse than expected for the both of you.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of a car accident, mentions of blood and cuts

notes: requests are open

“I’m not ready to lose you.” + “Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”

“Maybe you aren’t understanding,” you sighed, tired of the argument you and Mason were currently having, “I live with you, for fuck’s sake. I see you every night and every morning, so on my only day off, I want to see my family. We visit your family all the time, what about mine?”

Mason was tugging at his hair in stress, trying his hardest to keep his cool. It started when you’d gotten home late, after a nice day out with your mum and sisters, Mason sitting on the couch in complete silence. His argument was that you barely spent time together, especially since your careers kept you busy all the time. Your argument was that you see him during the day, whereas you don’t even speak to your parents for more than a minute on the phone. You understood his argument completely, you wanted to spend time with him, but he was dismissing your argument entirely.

“I rarely get time to spend with you, so when I actually get home from training early, you’re out all day with not even a note to tell me you’d gone.” Mason whined, following you into the kitchen as you left the living room. You both hated arguments, especially shouting, it wasn’t you at all. And usually your arguments were solved with just quiet talking, and a compromise. But tonight was something else.

“I don’t get that much time off.” You stated, making yourself comfortable on the island stool. You’d hoped Mason would just drop it, or at least see where you’re coming from. “If I knew you’d be finishing early, I would have offered you to come with me. But I didn’t know, Mase. I’m tired of this now.”

“You don’t think I’m tired of this?” Mason’s voice was gradually getting louder, and you squeezed your hands together to keep calm. “I’m tired of only seeing you when you’re sleeping, or half asleep as you walk through the door. I just want you, Y/N. We don’t even have sex anymore.”

“It’s not about sex, Mason. Not to me, anyway.” He was pulling every string and managed to get on every single one of your nerves, it was almost as if he were waiting for you to snap at him.

“Don’t try and spin this, I never said it was about sex. It’s just one of the many things we used to do, and don’t do anymore.” He’d shouted at you, his tone making it out to be your fault. You were the reason you didn’t have sex anymore, you were the reason you barely see each other any more.

“You can’t even have sex leading up to a match,” you reminded him, stopping at the stairs as you pulled your shoes back on. They’d only been off for twenty minutes, your bag still on your shoulder. “God, I’ve met rocks smarter than you,” you mumbled, reaching for the door handle.

“Oh, fuck off Y/N. Why don’t you go and sleep at your family’s house if you want to see them so much?” He shouted back at you, walking to the kitchen and away from you. You’d made a habit of slamming the door after you, stomping over to your car and starting it up. Another thing you’d always done during your arguments, was wait until you were away from Mason to cry.

You’d left the driveway, tears falling from your eyes as you left Mason in your house alone. He was sat against the kitchen island in defeat, head in his hands and beginning to regret saying what he said. He didn’t want you to go to your family’s home and sleep there, he wanted you in his bed. Close to him. That’s all he wanted.

You’d taken a hand from the wheel to wipe the tears from your eyes, no doubt ruining your makeup in the process, and as another had fallen, you squeezed your eyes to push them all out. In the split second your eyes were closed, you’d heard a large horn and felt your body jolt to the side, hitting your head on your window. All you could manage to do was grab your phone and see a bunch of texts, vision blurred so you couldn’t see who they were from.

Whoever it was, you’d texted: ‘hel p.’ Before letting the darkness, that was pushing your eyelids down, consume you.

Mason had received your text and almost threw up with worry. He clenched his teeth tightly together as he threw on his shoes, running out to his car and taking the route you always took to your parents. He knew you avoided motorways whenever you could, and he finally saw your car, both sides battered completely. He could barely breathe as he leapt out of his car, leaving the door wide open and going to check on you.

Your head was rested against the cracked window, he could see small shards impaling the skin of your face. His eyes were bleeding tears at this point, yanking on the doors but they wouldn’t open. Finally, your door had been forced open by his hands and he held you tight. He could feel your breath on his arm, so he knew not to assume the worst. His tears were landing on your hair, creating a small wet patch on your hairline.

“Wake up, please don’t do this to me.” He whimpered, holding you tighter to his chest as if it were doing something, “I’m not ready to lose you.” Your body felt limp, lifeless even, it was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. His chest ached with the sobs leaving him, wanting to curl up with you in bed. With you alive and well.

Finally, after holding you close to him, he’d called an ambulance. His voice shaking as he named the road and gave them your details. If he’d just listened to you, you wouldn’t be here right now, completely knocked out and in pain. He’d taken you from the car and carried you in his arms to his own. The sirens were rapidly approaching, his tears still falling from his eyes when they took you. He didn’t want to leave you, but he’d followed the ambulance to the hospital.

For hours he waited, eyes hopeful as a doctor left your room, but they’d walked the opposite way. The last he’d heard was that you were being taken into surgery, to remove the glass shards and stitch up the wounds on your head. He was advised to go home, grab you a change of clothes and get some sleep. But he refused. He wasn’t leaving this hospital until you were out with him. He wasn’t leaving until you knew how sorry he was for what he’d done.

He wept into his hands silently in the corner of the waiting room, lifting his hood up to avoid anyone who might know who he was. He’d contacted your family, telling them you’d been in an accident and that you were awaiting surgery. Of course they’d told Mason to keep them updated, wishing him and you well. He was shaking the entirety of the time he waited for you, finally a nurse coming up to him as he’d closed his eyes for a short while. It was almost 11 now, forgetting you’d gotten home late that night.

“She’s out of surgery,” the nurse confirmed, Mason’s heart beating faster for you, “she’s being transferred to a private room, and you’ll be able to see her there. We will have to keep her overnight, and we don’t allow visitors during the night. But visiting hours open at 6 tomorrow morning. Mason just nodded, he’d do whatever to see you again.

After an hour of waiting, he was finally allowed into your room. You were still groggy but upon seeing Mason’s face, all was forgotten. Grateful was an understatement, you’d been lucky enough to see Mason again. He sat down beside you, hand slipping through the wires and into your own, squeezing it gently.

“Hello, bubs.” He whispered, afraid of his voice breaking from the tears that had started back up again. You smiled weakly at him, biting you lip to contain your smile. “How you feeling?”

“Like death, if I’m honest.”

“You still look gorgeous even after being in a car wreck.” Mason admitted, brushing the hairs away from your eyes. The tiny cuts and stitches were dotted around your face, but your eyes still gleamed hopefully. Like they did when you first met.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m sorry.” You cried, trying to turn away from Mason but it hurt to do so. Your whole body ached from being slammed into so hard.

“There’s not a thing to be sorry for, bubs.” Mason assured you, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears away, “forget about the argument. Spend as much time as you want with your family, I don’t care. I’m just glad to still have you.”

“I should spend more time with you,” you mumbled into his hand, kissing his palm softly, “I’m sorry for not being around much. We need to make time for each other.” Mason just nodded, so full of joy to have you back with him.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

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ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

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“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

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@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

[ironmariposa]

Outside the Rain

Summery: the last thing Pepa expects is to spend Christmas with her ex.

Also found on Ao3

Pepa watches out the window as the day slowly fades into twilight. It had started snowing early that morning and has not let up all day. She stares out the window at the dark road in front of her house and tries to run her fingers through her hair only to get them tangled in her braid. Letting out a breath of frustration she drops the curtain and pulls out her phone. Clicking on his name, it rings until it goes to voicemail. Again. She ends the call, her eyebrows lowering in frustration.

Her ex was supposed to have dropped their kids off nearly an hour ago. The news reports were all agreed the roads should be avoided, especially after sunset. She was anxious for her babies to be safely home.

Her phone rings a moment later and she answers immediately, “Where are you?”

The huff on the other end sounds just as irritated as she does, “Twenty minutes away. But…”

“Do you have my babies?”

“¡Miércoles! I knew I forgot something.”

“Papí, you said a swear.” She hears her middle child through the phone, “You have to put money in the jar.”

Pepa laughs, “You have a swear jar? What are you, a rookie?”

Félix sighs into the phone, “Look the roads are pretty bad and not getting any better.”

“You better be careful with my babies in there.”

“If you were truly worried, you could have waited another day for me to bring them home.”

“It’s my time.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Félix!”

But there’s nothing. He hung up on her. And fine, she would rather him concentrate on the treacherous roads than argue with her but she hates when she doesn’t get in the last word with him.

Hates it.

It’s another forty two minutes before headlights flash through her windows, announcing their arrival.

Camilo runs in first, the door slamming against the wall as he shouts, “Mamá, we’re home.” He runs into the kitchen and she shakes her head. That boy is always hungry.

Dolores comes in next. She smiles softly at her mom and lets her hug her. Pepa is still taller than her so she’s able to kiss the top of her head, “Did you have a good time, mi vida?”

“Yes mamí.”

Félix taps his foot against the door jam before walking into the house carrying their youngest. Antonio is sound asleep in his arms, snow piled in both of their hair. Pepa can’t help smiling fondly at them, and doesn’t think twice about quickly taking a picture. Félix gives her an odd look when he catches her and she shrugs, “I’ll send it to you. Here let me take him.”

He sidesteps her though, “I got him.” And he heads upstairs to Antonio’s room. Pepa huffs at his back before going into the living room where her daughter has settled. She sits on the arm of the couch next to her and runs her hand over her daughter's hair.

“Did you get your paper finished?”

“Mostly.”

“Cariño.”

“I know mom. I really do have it mostly finished and I fully planned on finishing it tonight but…” she waves her hand at the window, “we both know tomorrows going to be a snow day.”

She’s not wrong, the snow storm is pretty bad and it’s supposed to continue through the night. Pepa smiles, “Okay but you’ll get it done tomorrow no matter what.”

“I promise.”

Félix comes back down the stairs and takes up most of the space in the entryway to the living room, “Well, I’m heading out. Doll, good luck on your finals.”

“Thanks Papí.”

“Cam?”

“Yep.” Pepa flinches as Camilo exits the kitchen with a poptart in each hand. Not exactly the most nutritious snack in the house.

“I’ll see you later. Call me after your rehearsals Wednesday.”

“K.” Camilo gives his dad a hug and Félix meets her eyes briefly before making his way to the door. Pepa follows to let him out but when he opens the door they both jump as a thick gust of wind blasts in and snow swirls around them.

“Pa, will you be okay?”

Félix winks over his shoulder at his daughter and without another word starts his walk to his car. The snow has already covered their footsteps from earlier and he has to highstep through it. The thought of him having to drive home in this, tired and unfocused, makes her heart spiral.

Just let him go, she tells herself.

She grips the door fully preparing to close it when she catches a glimpse of both Dolores and Camilo watching their dad with twin expressions of concern.

Let. Him. Go.

He’s nearly to the car when she chances one last glance at her kids and gripes the wood of the door tighter as she leans out.

“Félix!”

His back stiffens before he glances over his shoulder, turning to her after a beat. The snow is so thick she can barely make him out.

“Just… this is insane. You can’t drive in this.”

He raises his hands, “What else can I do, Pepa?”

“You could,” she absolutely can not believe she is doing this, “stay here for the night.”

Félix stares at her with narrowed eyes and she shivers as another gust of wind blasts her, pushing more snow inside of the house.

“Dios, it’s freezing. Just come inside already.”

She moves back from the door as he starts the trek back. Once inside he pushes the door shut and clicks the lock in place. Turning away to avoid him she finds her two oldest kids staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Kids, can you grab a sheet and some blankets?” She asks and both of them hurry to the laundry room to do as she asked.

“Why do you even care?” Félix asks after they’re out of earshot.

Pepa glances back to see him sliding off his boots, snow is melting in his hair, flattening it down on his head. It makes him look much younger. Like how he looked when they first got married.

They had been so young. So full of hope for the future. So certain of their love for one another.

“You’re my children's father.” She shrugs. Not letting herself even admit that it was more than that. That it could be more than that.

After delivering the blankets and hugging their papá goodnight, Dolores and Camilo silently head up to their rooms

“If you need anything…” Pepa stands at the bottom of the stairs, a hand on the banister as she avoids eye contact. He doesn’t look back at her as he is making the couch, but his tone is a mixture of amusement and irritation, “I think I remember where everything is.”

“Lo que sea” she mumbles as she starts to go up the stairs but pauses when she here’s his voice, softer, not as spiteful as it usually is when they talk anymore

“Look, this is just … weird.”

“Yeah.” She agrees softly and after a beat she starts up the stairs again, less irritated than she had been a moment ago.

She peaks her head in the kids rooms wishing them goodnight. Dolores quietly thanks her for letting their papá stay. Camilo is watching tv, Antonio still sound asleep. She kisses both boys before finally getting in her own bed. Her own very big and very empty, for the past two years, bed.

And she realizes this is the first time in two years Félix has stayed in this house. Their house that they built together for them, for their (future) children. They created this home, just the two of them, and then they let it crack and fall apart.

Divorce.

Such an ugly word. Especially when one is so very much still in love with the person they’re divorced from.

[cazimagines]

Try not to forget me

Synopsis: Anon request: Can we have a reader who slept with Zemo when they were younger, they were basically each other’s first times. Reader was brought to the mission and when Sam mentions Zemo she only limits herself to saying that she knows him assuming she knows him from civil war. At some point, Zemo mentions it to Sam and since he can’t contain himself he has to ask reader to be sure. Maybe some smut, like ‘I don’t remember you being this good’

Word count: 8.5k

Author’s note: Welp it took me a while but it's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am such a sucker for the trope of seeing someone you once dated years after not seeing them again. Like give me all of that. Also I changed a little bit of the request but not much.

Warnings: Gun shots, SMUT (for mature audiences), Fingering, Vaginal sex, Stripping

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Fingers fumbled with the clasp, the feeling of lips trailing up your thigh, sweet whispers in the air,

‘My princess, my everything’

His kisses on your neck, the desperation in his voice

‘I need you, all of you’

His fingers dug into your hips, his body moving like waves on top of you.

You call out his name to the night, losing yourself in the passion that consumed you.

Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging roughly which elicited a moan from his lips.

His eyes sparkled as he reached his first climax with you, ‘You’ll always be mine’

You woke up still with the taste of his lips upon your mouth. You felt the ghost of him linger on top of you, clinging to that long-ago memory.

But all things fade with time and the cold reality pulled you from the once pleasant dream drenched in sorrow. Sighing you pulled yourself off the made-up bed on the floor, already grabbing a hair tie to pull the bird’s nest of your hair out of your face. You hop over to where your prosthetic leg laid and strapped it onto your thigh.

Grabbing your phone you notice a few miss call from an old friend, calls you must have slept through. Pressing the number you hold it up to your ear as you wander around the apartment preparing for your day.

On the third ring, he picked up.

“Sam?” you ask

“Y/n! I wasn’t sure if I would hear back from you, it’s been a while”

“Yeah, things have been keeping me busy. It’s not like how it was when we were in the army”

You could hear him chuckle down the line, “It’s strange, I would have thought my time in the army would have been the craziest part of my life, but it’s hard to beat all the stories I have of aliens”

“At least you have stories to tell, what do I have? I served for a few years as a new American citizen, almost died a few times till one day I got shot in the leg”

“I don’t know losing your leg is one hell of a story, but speaking of almost losing your life. You remember that time I was able to pull you away from a landmine and you told me, ‘oh Sam thank you so much, I owe you so much’” Sam says down the line in a squeaky voice

“Since when have I ever spoken like that Sam? And why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going”

“Well that’s because it is time for me to cash in that favour”

That’s how you found yourself arriving at an airport, searching around to find Sam. As you walked around the corner you could make out what seemed to be three figures in the distance. As you got nearer one of them noticed you, and started waving exaggeratingly making you chuckle.

You finally reach him as Sam pulls you into a firm hug. “It’s good to see you again y/n,” he says as you pull away.

“Yes, after all these years of avoiding me” you quip making him laugh

“You know I’d never avoid you! It’s you who has always found an excuse to get out of meeting up with old friends”

“Well I’m here now”

“Speaking of old friends, let me introduce to you this man, 106 years old, dermatologists hate him”

The man Sam referred to now stepped forward, holding out his hand, “Hi, I’m Bucky” he says, smiling slightly as you shake his hand.

“Y/n, you look good for your age”

“He moisturises” Sam buts in making Bucky send him a look, “It’s complicated” he mutters and you nod.

“I met Steve once, I understand,” you tell him, making his eyes light up at the mention of his old friend.

“Super soldier serum, the ability to be almost immortal, another reason as to why we have all gathered here to prevent it”

A shiver ran through your spine as you heard that long ago accent which you had removed from your voice. You focus on the man behind Sam, someone you should have noticed when you first appeared.

It had been over twenty years since you had last seen him yet you could still recognise the way his lips twitched up at the sides but dipped in the middle, the softness of his warm brown eyes, and the slight angular twist his eyebrows had. His hair was more well kept than when you had last seen him. Then he was still going through his rebellious phase, letting his hair grow unkempt but now he had a sense of refinement about him. He knew he was ageing like fine wine and now instead of trying to rebel from the prestigious life he had like when you knew him, he lavished in it, enjoying the money that was of so easy access to him and spent it on all the finer luxuries of life.

“Y/n, this is Zemo. You might remember seeing him on the news, he’s the one who framed Bucky”

You knew him more than that, more than any of them could ever know him. The dream from this morning swarmed your thoughts again, taunting you as if your brain knew what was to come.

Sokovia had been your home country, a place you had longed to forget, leave dead. Zemo, Helmut, was your childhood friend. You couldn’t remember the time when you first met as it felt like he had always been in your life. Everything you two did, you did together. Attending the same schools, going around to each other’s houses, exploring the wildness together. You two were closer than siblings. Your family had nowhere as near the same money as Zemo’s family had, yet that didn’t seem to matter, at least not when you were children. It was no surprise to people when eventually you two started dating. There had been bets on how long it would take for Zemo to gather the courage to ask you out. You and Zemo had been each other’s firsts, first partner, first kiss, first making love, which is where your dream had come from. It was cringy to say it but you felt like you loved him with every inch of your soul, and you knew Zemo was just as dedicated to you.

That’s why the break-up was so messy.

You were the one who called it. You had to. Zemo might have been blind to what it meant to be a Baron at that time but you weren’t. His parents allowed him to have his little indulges, allowed you two to be friends, to date. But at the end of the day, he would always be from the higher class and your family from the lower class. They would of never let you two marry so you had to call off the relationship before you got too deep, to save yourself some pain. You’d hoped that you two could still be friends, though it would have hurt, you still wanted to be around him but that was never meant to be.

At first, he didn’t believe you, he laughed it off as a good joke till he realised you were being serious. Then was the confusion, he wouldn’t let you leave. He needed to know what he did wrong, what could have happened for you to want to break up with him. Then was the obsession. He wouldn’t leave you alone, turning up to your house every day to beg for another chance, following you around trying to pick the relationship back up, threatening any guy that went near you. Then the heartbreak when he finally accepted it was over. He didn’t leave his house for months, you heard rumours he drank himself to sleep most nights, till one time at the dead of the night you found him pounding on your door, shouting to let him in. He was pissed and crying, imploring at you to give him a second chance, begging for you to tell him what he could do to get back with you. He would do anything, give you all his money, abandon his family and run away with you. You helped him back home and told him to leave you alone. And to give it to him he did because then came the anger. You would see him outside and he would pretend he didn’t even know who you were. You’d walk past and accidentally hit shoulders and he shouted at you to watch where you were going. Soon he would be seen with lots of different women, taking them to all the places he took you, dancing at parties. Whenever you looked over to them they were making out and it pained you deeply for what you had to give up. Eventually, you ran away. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself seeing Zemo move on with someone else while you were still suffering on the inside, not just for losing the boy you love but the person who had been your best friend for as long as you could remember.

You left Sokovia to live in America, completely ridding yourself of your whole past identity. There you decided to enlist in the Army which is where you had met Sam, served with him for a few years till you were forced to retire early due to losing your leg. You checked up on Zemo every once in a while, it wasn’t too hard with the Sokovian news constantly obsessing over him. He married the woman he moved onto, the one you always saw making out with him. You suppose he truly must have loved her because it was your birthday when his son was born. While he celebrated the happiest day of his life you spent the day at the bottom of a bottle drinking away the loneliness. You still remember the moment you found out what had happened to Sokovia. You hadn’t been back there in years but it was still your home, where you had all of your fond memories, now all gone.

You didn’t see anything in the news about Zemo after that, he and his family completely vanished so you had to assume the worst. Till you finally saw him on the news. It was hardly like the boy you once knew. The Zemo you knew was kind, empathetic, caring, beautiful in every way he could be yet the man you saw there was a murderer, cold-hearted, reckless. What had happened to the boy you once knew?

You could make guesses, his family was nowhere in sight and you could only imagine how losing the woman you love and your child could hurt you. You hated imagining all the pain Zemo has gone through.

“Yes, I remember seeing him on the news,” you tell Sam. Both you and Zemo stared at each other, your eyes unwavering.

He knew who you were. He knew from the moment you turned around that corner. As he watched you warmly greet Sam and shake hands with Bucky. He watched the person he never thought he would see again stand right in front of him, not even noticing him.

But now you stood there, staring him down. Both of you almost speaking through your eyes. Would the other one bring up the past? Try to acknowledge all that has happened between you or is that dead, left forgotten. Will you two pretend to have never met before, letting years of memories fade.

Zemo was first to speak.

“I see my reputation isn’t too favourable”

“That’s what you get for blowing up the UN,” you say scowling at him as you cross your arms

Zemo opens his mouth to say something but Sam gets here first, “Y/n served in the Army with me so you better be careful with what you say Zemo”

Zemo’s eyes then flicker back to you tilting his head, like he always used to do, in interest.

“Why is he even here?” you ask, finally pulling your eyes away from him to Sam and Bucky

Sam turns to Bucky with a plastered on a fake smile, “Why don’t you explain Bucky”

Bucky sighs as he glances over to you, “As Sam mentioned to you on the call we are trying to track down this group of super-soldiers called the Flag Smashers. We need Zemo here to help us track down where they got the serum and help us so no one else becomes a super-soldier”

“And you trust him?” you scoff, glaring back to Zemo who just smirked at you

“We have no other choice” Bucky mutters, scowling over at Zemo

“I can assure you, I won’t do anything to betray your trust. For once all of our goals are aligned that it would do us no good to go against each other.”

“I’ll hold judgment till later,” you reply bitterly.

Swifty Zemo swings on the heels of his feet, turning around to start walking away, obviously expecting all of you to follow him. Sighing in annoyance you trail after him.

As you had predicted both you and Zemo were pretending to not know each other, perhaps for the sake of the mission or perhaps for the sake of your well beings. You’re not sure if you could cope even acknowledging the past you two had. He’d been the person you had been closest to, someone you shared all your secrets, all your thoughts and feelings with. Someone who you would have taken a bullet for in the blink of an eye and to suddenly lose all of that, it wrecked you. You had finally managed to build yourself up again, to try and move on and then he comes straight back into your life. It’s as if there is some strange omnipotent god up there and it loved to torment every waking moment of your life.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asks and you all catch up with Zemo and see him walking towards what you assumed was his private aeroplane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam, my family was royalty till your friends blew up my country”

There was a slight change of tone for when he said ‘my’ not enough for Sam and Bucky to pay attention to it but enough for you to feel the slight twist in your heart as you thought back to the country that used to be yours, long ago.

As you got closer you observed a man standing by the plane, ready to welcome Zemo aboard and you felt your heart stop for a moment. Oeznik. The man had aged since you last saw him, he had fallen to the tolling of time but he still had those warm, caring eyes.

Memories swept over you of your childhood as you observed him. He has always been Zemo’s assistant, hired by Zemo’s parents when they were much younger. You could remember times when you and Zemo would be running down the corridors, not where you were supposed to be and Oeznik would find you two, not telling you off but smiling at you two, saying how Zemo’s parents were looking for him. He would sneak you two Turkish delights even if it was only an hour before dinner. Anywhere you two wanted to go he would drive you there. Whenever you slept over he would prepare your favourite meals, making sure everything was just how you liked in the room you would stay in. He was almost like another father figure to you and Zemo.

And now there he was, greeting Zemo. Zemo kissed him on the cheeks fondly before heading inside. Sam and Bucky both follow up but you take a moment to turn to look at him.

“Oeznik” you whisper

He smiles warmly down at you, placing his hand on the side of your arm. “It’s good to see you again madam”

You nod your head, unable to say anymore without letting your emotions get the better of you so you choose to head inside.

You could feel his eyes on you as you enter. You glance up to him and you know he knows why you took a little longer to get onto the plane. It was that knowing look in his eye, the slight twinkle of amusement but also sadness.

You frown realising you’d have to take a seat opposite Zemo, Sam and Bucky already choosing to sit on the other side, showing their dislike for him. You freeze for just a moment making Zemo gesture to the seat in front of him, smirking as he tilts his head. You huff, not bothering to hide your displeasure, taking the seat in front of him but refusing to even look at him.

A few minutes later Zemo chuckles as Oeznik brings out two drinks, a glass of champagne which he offers to Zemo, and a glass of rum which he offers to you. You’re favourite drink. After all this time he still remembered.

You kindly thanked Oeznik, taking the glass as you avoid the confused eyes of Sam who was wondering why you got a drink and he didn’t and the eyes of Zemo, which held an emotion you couldn’t quite recognise.

“The food is out but I will see if there is some good food in a gallery,” he tells Zemo and starts to turn away but then Zemo speaks.

“If it doesn’t pass the food test, give it to them,” he says, speaking in sokovian and gesturing to Sam and Bucky.

You weren’t prepared for the surge of pain in your heart as you heard Zemo use the language of your people. Though it had been over twenty years since you last heard it, you could still remember it perfectly.

Oeznik laughs, “It’s good to have you back sir,” he says, then nods to you before leaving again. Zemo smiles at Sam and Bucky, enjoying the notion of how they didn’t know what he said, before his eyes swiftly turn back to you, knowing you know exactly what he said.

He takes a swing of his drink before speaking again, “It’s kind of him to remember your go-to drink” he says in Sokovian.

And there it was. The first acknowledgement of the past between you two. Your eyes burn into his head as you realise just what he was doing. It was a test. He spoke in Sokovian for just you to understand, seeing if you were to take the bait and talk back in Sokovian. He wanted to see if you were willing to acknowledge the past between you two as well.

But Sam and Bucky had no idea where you were from. As far as they knew from your accent you were American and you planned to keep that secret. You weren’t going to play in Zemo’s little game, you refused to take your turn. Instead, ignoring what he had said to stare at the ground.

He waits for a few moments before accepting you weren’t going to reply. Sighing he turns to Sam and Bucky.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell” he starts “Oh, that’s right, you do” he then carries on, taunting them. If he can’t mess with you then he’ll mess with them.

“Why don’t you tell us about where you are going” Sam replies, ignoring Zemo’s attempt at taunting.

Zemo then instead turns to the book in his hand, thumbing through it. “Sorry, I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” he asks turning to Bucky

Instantly Bucky was out of his seat, his hand around Zemo’s throat pulling him back as he leans in towards his face.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you” he whispers

Zemo nods as Bucky lets him go, letting out a slight breath he had been holding in. Bucky glares as Zemo has he takes his seat again.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“But you’re not sorry” you abruptly say, making all eyes turn to you. “Ever since we’ve sat down you’ve been taunting us, trying to stir up trouble. Soon your annoyance will outweigh any use you have for us”

“I’m sorry if I have caused you any offence, Princess, it is never my intention to upset any of you”

But it was. It fucking was. Because he knew just how much pain that nickname brought to your heart. Princess. That’s what he had always referred to you as when you dated. In his eyes, you were a princess, his princess. You clench your jaw, trying to stop the tears that swelled in your eyes. Something Zemo picked up on and himself felt pained seeing your reaction.

“Don’t call her Princess. Her name is y/n” Sam says, glaring at Zemo.

“My apologies, it was my fault to refer to your girl like that”

Instantly both yours and Sam’s eyes widen at his words.

“We’re not, that’s not-” Sam starts to say, fumbling with his words

“We’re just friends” you but in, glaring at Zemo for you knew why he said that.

“Y-yeah” Sam replies, looking between you and Zemo as you stare at each other. Zemo tilts his head slightly, the edge of his lips twitching up.

“I see”

“Now perhaps you could stop taunting us, Zemo, and answer Sam’s original question about where the hell we are going”

If you had blinked you would have missed it but just for a split second, as his last name fell from your lips, you could see him flinch. These days everyone referred to him by his last name, never his first name. And although in the past you had always called him by his first name, you, like them, were using his last name. That hurt more than he thought it would.

“I’m afraid I can’t say just yet, but all will be relieved in due time’

You just groan, rolling your eyes and then choosing to stare out the window trying to forget all about the man that sat in front of you.

Hoping to alleviate the conversation Sam nods to the book Bucky took back from Zemo.

“I’ve seen that book, it’s Steve’s book for when he came out of the ice. I told him about trouble man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What did you think?”

“I like 40’s music so…” Bucky grumpily replies

“You didn’t like it!?” Sam exclaims leaning forward

“I liked it”

“It’s a masterpiece James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African American experience” Zemo buts in, speaking with his hands as he looks over to Bucky

Sams’s eyes face moves from looking at Bucky, to looking at Zemo then back to Bucky.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody likes Marvin Gaye”

Inside your head, you scoff at Zemo as he talked as if he was sophisticated with music, ‘like you didn’t listen to Nirvana all the time’ you thought. From that point you ignored what they were saying, sipping your drink as you stare out the window. Today had taken a complete turn from what you ever could have imagined it would have turned out to be. And little did you know it was about to get a whole lot messier.

-

“No fucking way. You can’t make me do that”

“You have to if you want to blend in for the mission” Zemo explains

“She can blend in, in many other ways, she doesn’t have to pretend to be your partner,” Sam says arguing for you

“They will be suspicious of her though and it could risk the whole mission but if she was my partner they wouldn’t be suspicious”

“He’s right y/n” Bucky adds, “I don’t want to be doing this either but if we want to find out where the super-soldier serum has come from we need to”

Zemo nods to Bucky in thanks and then looks to you, the corner of his lip twitching up in amusement that Bucky was backing him up and seeing your anger.

He was deliberately trying to antagonise you. Making you pretend to be his partner for the mission, was his way to get back at you for the pain you caused him when you broke things off. You didn’t think you could cope with having to pretend to be his partner for it, it would just bring up all the pain of what had been lost between you two, what you had to let go of. But they were right. You had to do it for the sake of the mission. If Bucky could pretend to the winter soldier again for the mission the least you could do was this.

“Are you seriously taking his side Bucky, if she doesn’t want to be that then-” Sam starts to argue but you cut him off.

“It’s okay Sam, Bucky’s right I need to do it”

Sam opens his mouth in surprise and then moves over to stand in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “No you don’t y/n, don’t listen to them”

You place your hand over Sam’s hand on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “I’ll be okay with it Sam. It’s not like I’d be dating him”

Your eyes flicker to Zemo who had been glaring at Sam now turned his eyes to you, his lips almost twitching into a frown but he stops them.

“I won’t wear that dress though,” you say, your eyes looking down to the short dress Zemo held in his arms.

He opens his mouth to argue against that as well but you stop him, “No Zemo, I won’t be wearing that, that is final”

He bites back his words, smacking his lips together as he nods, “If that is what you wish”

You weren’t ashamed of your prosthetic leg. It was a reminder to you for all you had given to people. But you weren’t about to walk around Madripoor with it being showed off to everyone. And a part of you wasn’t ready for Zemo to see you with it, though you don’t know why.

You hadn’t been to Madripoor before but it didn’t surprise you that Zemo knew the place well. It looked like the shady place you would find him in. As soon as you stepped out of the car Zemo’s arm wrapped around your waist. It fitted like nothing had changed in the time between. Your face instantly turned to him to tell him to let go but he held his finger up to your lips to stop you, “For appearance y/n, you are after all, for this evening, my partner”

Begrudgingly you accept it and don’t try to move his arm away as you walk together. Sam walks up beside you and as you turn to look at him he rolls his eyes. You chuckle at Sam then felt Zemo’s grip on your waist tighten.

As you walk into the bar Zemo takes a seat on the stool. You glance around but all the other seats had been taken. Smirking Zemo pats his lap, “Hop on princess”

You grasp onto his shoulder, pinching it harshly to cause him some pain as you position yourself on his lap, but he just chuckles at your reaction, his hand instantly going to rest on your tigh which was thankfully covered by your trousers.

“Don’t call me princess” you whisper angrily to him

He leans forward, his lips by your ear as you feel his breath, “We have to make it realistic princess, plus I think that would be the sought of a nickname I would give you if we were dating”

He presses a lip to your cheek as he pulls back from you, chuckling as he sees how your cheeks heat up and the glare you grace him with.

“Hello gentlemen and lady,” the barman says finally coming over to you, “I wasn’t expecting the smiling tiger”

“His plans changed, we have a business to do, with Selby,” Zemo says, trying to take over all conversation so no one gave themselves away.

“And she does as well?” he asks, nodding to you

“Anywhere I go she goes with me” Zemo replies, chuckling as he looks at you with a smile on his lips

“Isn’t that right princess?”

You try your best to push back the anger you felt, instead, forcing a smile as you look back at Zemo, “Of course my love” you tell him then leans forward to place a quick peck on his lips.

As your lips lightly brush against his you could hear the slight hitch in his breath and as you lean your head on his chest you wonder if he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

It’s just for appearances, that’s all you tell yourself but even though it was brief you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that comforting feeling that you hadn’t felt in so long and it was as if all the buried emotions you had come flooding back. Here you were sitting on his lap, kissing him as if nothing had changed and for a moment you wondered if that could be the case. Could you two go back to what time was like before?

But you couldn’t. Not only was it down to the fact that Zemo was a wanted criminal, but he had moved on from you. He fell in love with another, he married her. Any feelings he had for you were long gone and this was just him messing with you, and you didn’t want to let him know the feelings you still had for him after all this time.

The barman seems to accept your display though, choosing to focus on Sam instead as he makes him his ‘usual’ drink.

Zemo orders you and him a drink which you thankfully take from his hand, hoping to drown your feelings away with the alcohol.

A man comes up behind you and instantly Zemo lifted you off your lap, pushing you behind him as he stands up to face the man.

“Got word from on high, you’re not welcomed here,” he tells Zemo,

“Hm” Zemo replies, nodding as he takes the man’s words, “I have no business with the power broker, but if he insists he can either come talk to me...” he finishes, nodding over to Bucky

“Or bring Selby for a chat”

The man leaves as Bucky looks over to Zemo. As Zemo turns around once again his arm wraps around your waist.

“A power broker, really?”

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar”

“Do you know him?” you ask and Zemo looks down at you amused by your question, “Only by reputation”

“In Madripoor he is judge, jury and executioner”

Zemo’s eyes focus now on another man coming towards him. Turning back around to the bar he speaks to Bucky in Russian just as the man places his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You all turn around to watch as Bucky grabs the man and starts to attack him. You’d seen violence before but it still made you wince knowing how Bucky didn’t want to do this.

After one particular nasty hit without thinking your hand grasps onto his hand, needing something to hold on to. As soon as you realised what you had done you swiftly try to pull your hand back but Zemo holds onto it tight, refusing to let it go. You could feel his gaze turn to you but you choose to ignore his cocky face and instead focus on Bucky.

You stand out of the way as Bucky slams the man onto the table and Zemo leans forward to let Bucky know not to take it too far. That was your ticket though as then you were being shown the way to see Selby.

The meeting itself wasn’t too bad. Zemo held onto your hand as he pulled you over to sit with him. He talked to Selby while you just sat on his lap. Selby didn’t pay any attention to you, which you were thankful for. Things were going smoothly until Sam’s phone ringed.

That’s how you found yourself running along with Bucky, Sam and Zemo avoiding gunfire. As you ran you heard one gunfire and felt your prosthetic leg move slightly as the bullet went straight through it.

Zemo must have seen what happened as well, but not knowing you had a prosthetic leg, he wrapped his arms suddenly around your legs, picking you up bridal style. He ran off to the side, leaving Bucky and Sam behind as he hid you down an alleyway.

“Zemo let go of me!” you hissed, hitting him in the chest as he stopped running. He instead places you on the ground, growling at you not to move as he starts to check all his pockets in his coats. Instead, you do move, getting up off the floor and he looks at you angrily. “I said don’t move! You’ll injure yourself more”

You lean down and jank up slightly the trouser leg, showing the fake metallic leg underneath.

“I’m fine Zemo! It’s fake. Now we need to go and find Sam and Bucky”

But Zemo was frozen, staring down at your leg in shock. Because at that moment was the realisation for him. All this time he had been teasing you, testing the waters of how far he could push you to admit to the past. Messing around with you as if you were two lovesick teenagers again. But you had both changed, and he was refusing to realise that until now. Because he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact you were no longer the woman he once knew. The one person he knew better than himself and he had still half-believed that was the case until now. You had a fake leg, lost in what he assumed was the army which you and Sam had been in. He didn’t know because the truth was you were almost a stranger to him now, and he hated that. He just wanted things to be the way they once were. That’s what he desperately craved but it couldn’t be.

“Okay,” he simply says and nods, finally pulling his gaze away from your leg and up to you. Following your lead, he chases after you to find out where Sam and Bucky had gone.

-

Sam paced around the main room of Sharon’s house. His mind was occupied with so many thoughts it was hard to concentrate but there was one that stuck out like a splinter in a thumb. What the hell was going on between you and Zemo? He wasn’t stupid he could pick up on something, the looks two you gave each other, the tension in the air, the way you reacted when you first saw him. Sam considered himself your best friend, though you two hadn’t seen each other in ages. So it bugged him how this was obviously something big to you, and he didn’t know what it was.

Zemo sat at the table by the side, quietly drinking some whiskey. Both you and Bucky had decided to retire for the night while Sam decided to stay up just so he could find out the truth.

“You look like you are trying to burn a hole through my head by the way you are staring at me Sam” Zemo says, finally looking up from his glass to Sam who was glaring at him.

“Is something the matter?” he asks

“You and y/n. What’s up with that”

Zemo chuckles, looking back down into his glass, “Ah that”

“I’m her best friend, I know everything about her, apart from this apparently”

Zemo’s eyes snapped back to Sam but this time there was no amusement in them, instead a angry glaze as he frowned, “Best friend?” he repeats, standing up and walking over to Sam. “You hardly know her at all”

Sam scoffs as he raises an eyebrow at Zemo attempting to get into his face. “And you do?”

“Yes” Zemo instantly replies, “I know she was born in Novia Grand, Sokovia. Just like me. I know which schools she attended, the same as mine, I know what her favourite meals are, we had them whenever she came round to my house. I know her favourite band, I took her to their first concert. I know everything little thing about her Sam, and you know nothing”

Sam’s eyes widen at Zemo’s confession, realisation dawning on him. “You were childhood friends”

“More than friends Sam, we were lovers. We were the first people we dated, we were each other first kiss, we were each other first time” Zemo claims as if bragging to Sam

“Yet you didn’t know she was in the Army, you didn’t know she had a prosthetic leg did you?” Sam asks and when he sees the slight fall in Zemo’s face he smiles, “You used to know her Zemo, but obviously, you don’t know the person I know now”

-

With a pair of tweezers lent to you from Sharon, you pull your trouser leg up and search around in your prosthetic leg attempting to find the bullet lodged inside and pull it out. You could see the bullet but you couldn’t quite get the right angle to pull it out making you groan in annoyance.

You were about to throw the tweezers across the room in anger when you heard a knock against the door. You were currently sitting in one of Sharon’s guest rooms as lot were staying at Sharon’s place for the night to rest up then go and find the scientist tomorrow morning.

“Y/n?” you hear his voice call out from the other side

You sigh rolling your eyes, “What do you want” you snap

“May I come in? We need to talk”

“I don’t want to talk”

You hear the click of the door and Zemo pushes it open to stare at you in a slight annoyance. His eyes then move down to the tweezers in your hand and your leg. He takes a few steps towards you, his hand out as he closes the door.

“Let me”

You hesitate for a moment but finally, give in and hand him the tweezers. He pulls out a seat beside you and gently puts the tweezers through the hole in your leg.

“How did it happen?” he asks as he concentrates on your leg while at the same time trying to create polite conversation.

“Like most injuries out there. One of the soldiers was on the floor, shot a round of bullets into my leg. The doctor there couldn’t save my leg so I had to get it amputated”

He nods, finally grasping the bullet with the tweezers and started to pull it out. “Serving in the army, it’s admirable. Something very like you. I was in the Sokovian armed forces. EKO scorpion”

You nod as you watch him pull the bullet out and place it to the side. “I remember reading about it in the news”

His eyes, flickering to you, glimmer with amusement. “So you kept track of me?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he caught you out. You glance away from his intense stare instead to the table. “Did you really expect that I didn’t? You once were my best friend Zemo. It’s hard to let that go. I saw you got married, had a child. I’m sorry about what happened to them”

It was Zemo’s turn to look away now, feeling the pain in his heart ignite as he thinks back to his previous family. “My son, he was born on your birthday”

“I’m surprised you remember my birthday”

He smiles slightly, finally turning his eyes back to yours, “Of course I do. Every year I’d drink a toast to you. You said that I was your best friend and hard to let go of that. Well, it’s the same both ways y/n. I couldn’t just forget about your existence.”

“I had to leave” you whisper

“I know. I know why you left, and I know why you broke up with me in the first place”

Your eyes flash to his in surprise and widen seeing how they were swarmed with tears. “Because of my family, they never would of let us marry because of your status. Y/n I would have left all of that behind for you, without a second thought”

Shaking your head you reply, “I couldn’t have asked that of you Zemo”

“And that’s one of the reasons why you are so perfect. You always put me before you, now this time I am asking you to finally let yourself choose. If you want me to leave say and I will leave. But if you don’t say I will stay with you, and I won’t let you leave again”

“We’re not who we once were, Helmut” you mutter, finally letting yourself use his first name and with that, he already knew your choice. His hand goes up to cradle the side of your face gently, moving it nearer to him.

“Then let’s discover each other, all over again”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed his lips on you, fitting perfectly against yours as if they were made for you. He poised there, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but his lips smirked as you started to move your lips on him, crashing them on top of his for action, which he kindly gave.

His tongue poked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. One which you allow as you wrap your fingers behind his neck, getting tangled in his hair.

You could hardly believe this is where you were, once again with Zemo, his lips upon yours, desire between your legs. In the last twenty years, you had often dreamt of reuniting with Zemo, experiencing this moment again but you never thought it would happen. But here you were.

His hands travelled down your back, swooping under your butt as you wrapped your leg around his waist. Swiftly he lifts you off the chair and walks you over to the bed, placing you down on it and crawling on top of you.

His lips trail down your cheek, across your jawline and down onto your neck, sucking on that delicate pulse spot. A moan escapes from your lips and he pulls back chuckling. “For so long now I’ve longed to hear you moan for me Princess”

You just groan, your hand pushing his face back into your neck making him laugh but he quickly goes back to making a hickey on it. His fingers trail down to your shirt, slowly lifting it and once again he pulls away to be able to lift the shirt off you.

He holds back for a moment to admire your beauty. His hands move behind your back and swiftly undoes the clasps on your bra, tugging it off. He groans seeing you for all your glory and buries his head in your boobs. ‘Oh how I have missed these’

While his mouth latches onto your breasts, smothering them in kisses as his hands go to undo the buttons on your trousers. He starts to tug them down, with no sense of being gentle but rather a primal urge taking over him. He manages to tug them off you and then his lips move down even further. He trails his tongue from your breasts down your belly, leaving a trail of saliva. As he reaches your underwear, his teeth latch onto it. With a slight groan from his lips, he then pulls them off, sliding them down your legs and flicking them off to the floor along with your other discarded clothes.

He sighs in contentment as he buries his face into the side of your thigh as his fingers trail your prosthetic leg. Leaning forward he places a kiss on it, then trails upwards, littering it in soft kisses. The only softness you’ll be experiencing tonight.

As you feel him get nearer your core you let out a shudder in anticipation, as you shudder you feel his lips suddenly press against your core. He instantly latches into your clit, his tongue dancing on it, twisting it in circular motions. Your hands instantly grasp his hair, holding him close to your core, not letting him go. Not that he ever want to. Sandwiched between your legs is where he belonged.

“If I remember correctly, you always liked this part”

You let out a shocked gasp as suddenly a finger presses against your entrance and then slips inside of you, with ease from how wet you have become. He slides the finger all the way into the end, letting a moan rip out of your throat.

“It seems I do remember correctly”

“Instead of commentating everything why don’t you put that mouth to good use” you groan, pushing his face back into your crotch. His tongue instantly went back to your clit as he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, making sure it brushes against your walls. As you start to let more little moans he thrusts another finger inside, opening slightly to stretch you out.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he worked his tongue on your clit and his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. Then his fingers hit just at that right spot and your walls fluttered around him. You hardly got enough time to choke out a warning before you were gushing all over his fingers. When your climax started to edge away he pulled his face back from your clit, removing his fingers and while holding your eye contact he stuck his tongue out, lapping up your juices on his fingers.

He moans slightly as he licks it up, his eyes fluttering half close, ‘Mine Gott, I forgot just how good you tasted’

“Well let’s see if you are as good with that dick as you were in the past” you tease, pulling his face towards your to encompass in another kiss. As your hands hold his face to yours his fingers feel up the side of your waist, ghosting over your skin creating goosebumps.

You could sense when his fingers started to trail to his trousers though and you pull away from his lips making him whine.

“Strip for me”

He tilts his head smirking as he looks up into your playful eyes. “As you wish my princess,” he says as he climbs off you, standing at the end of the bed. Slowly he tugs off his large coat off, laying it on the side of the bed. Next, he works on his turtleneck, slowly tugging it up to his chest, then over his head. Soon it joins the steady growing pile of discarded clothes. Next, he quickly tugged down his trousers and boxers, his patience starting to wear thin.

As he pulled them down exposing his dick you hummed in approval. “Now isn’t that a sight for sore eyes”

“And you were complaining at me for talking” Zemo murmurs, stepping forward to crawl back onto you but your hold your hand up to stop him. “Put the coat back on”

“I see in our time apart you’ve become more demanding,” he says as he picks up the coat and slides it back onto his naked body. As he finally gets to crawl back on top of you, you grasp the fur collar and pull him closer to your face.

You run your fingers through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. Parts of it fell onto his forehead. His hands move down to hold his dick by your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. For a moment he hesitates, moving his head to rest against your forehead in anticipation.

“You’re still as beautiful as when I last saw you”

With that, he pushes into you, rather quickly because of how desperate he was to feel you around him. As he bottoms out he groans, pushing his face into the crook of the neck as you grasp the back of his head gasping. He stays still for a minute, treasuring the feeling of your walls clasping onto him. Then slowly he pulls mostly out of you, till just his head hung in your, and then thrust back into you.

He started to pick up speed, hearing the increase of your moans against his ear. His grunts and moans start to intertwine with yours as you both chase your pleasure.

“Gott, you are so perfect my princess. You feel so good around me” he’d groan into your ear as his hips thrust repeatedly into your, the sounds echoing on the walls of the room. His fingers sneak down your belly to your core, rubbing against your clit. Instantly your back was arched and your fingers grasped onto the coat.

“God Helmut, I don’t remember you being this good” you moan and with your words he speeds up, pumping inside of you. His head kept brushing up inside that perfect spot inside and with his fingers twisting on your clit you could feel your climax steadily approaching.

“H-Helmut, I’m going to, soon I’m-” you tried to get out between moans but there was no need to as Zemo could feel how close you were for the way your walls clung around him tightly.

“Come for me Princess, let me feel you. I need to feel you again my love, after so long”

And his words were music to your ears as you feel the knot within you snap and your wetness gushing over his dick. Zemo bites down on your neck, trying to be gentle, as he feels your walls grasp you even tiger as he thrusts into you. Not long after he felt his own release coming and as you lay there panting he thrusts in time to his release until he squeezed out every last drop.

He hovers over you for a moment, panting, wanting to remain in your warmth for just a moment longer but eventually he pulls out and collapse beside you.

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you Helmut” you whisper

“No my princess, thank you for forgiving me for everything I’ve ever done to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t deserve your love but I desperately need it. I won’t lose you again my darling”

TAGS: @shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @multiyfandomgirl40 @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @barneswidow @checkurwindow @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s @mylifeispainandiloveit

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[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you���re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

(my saddle’s waiting) ride it

Iwaizumi “Big Guns” Hajime x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: Being ridiculous in front of your crush. Porn With Plot. Not researched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Oral in a public space (bathroom); Cock-blocked Interrupted orgasms; Masturbation/fingering; Fingering  in public (street), then while driving. Driving while fingering? Unsafe driving. Fucking against a door, then a wall. Alcohol and mentions of drugs. Side Tendou/Oikawa. Bit of a teasing, overconfident Iwachan.  A poor excuse of oblivious colleagues to lovers.

Word count: WAY TOO BIG. +11k.

Note: 🤠 Brought by your wicked duo degenerates, Saint Dymphna and me:  LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠 electric bogaloo

You guys know the drill @dymphnasprose​ started this all with their tempting ways! It was the image of Iwaizumi all oiled up,  working in his garage like Channing Tatum that made me cave and do this. Once again, being with Dymph is nothing short of amazing and I LOVE THEM  🥺💕💕

This is wayyyy too ploty for something where I just wanted people to bang, but you guys know how I get with Iwaizumi. I’m not totally happy about how this turned out but honestly I have no time to work on it and it has to be out. You guys will realize I went full myself with Reader’s crush on Iwaizumi in this. Sorry not sorry.

Biiig, huuuuuge thanks to both @vanille--kiss​ and @oneblonded​ for their help in beta-ing this, you guys are incredible.  💕 As always a big thanks to @mixedhell​ who always helps me when I’m troubled <3

Iwa’s song: Pony (of course)

You can also read: MAKKI | MATTSUN 

You check your phone and realize you’re late… again.

You hate, hate, hate morning classes, but if you want to be in time for your internship and still have time to study and, well, live, you’re obligated to accept the first class of the day on a Friday. You hate it, and you hate it even more that it’s how you have to end your week but you’ve made peace with it. 

That doesn’t mean you can actually get there in time, reason why you’re twenty minutes late running with your keys and coffee in one hand while you try to balance both your books and your backpack with the other. And when you push the door with your hip, it makes a loud squeaking noise while opening, ruining both your quiet entry and bringing everyone’s eyes on you, of course, because when have you ever been granted a fucking break, right?

“Sorry!” You murmur while trying your best into making a curt bend, and your professor looks over his glasses to you in a very pointed manner but other than that he  resumes what he was speaking on before.

You know he hates you being late (especially as a repeat offender) but you’re a fairly participative student and you regularly earn one of his top grades, so you think that buys you some slack -- and leverage. You go to your habitual seat by the wall, and try your best not making any other noises while you set everything in their places and, thankfully, a moment later, you’re able to breathe while in your seat, with your open computer and notes ready. You give yourself about twenty seconds to drink a bit of your coffee and check out where in the topic the professor is lecturing about.

“That’s why Iwaizumi-san will be receiving your papers. I’ll be returning to the next week, and in the time being, he’ll be doing the full TA hours. If you have any questions just ask him and remember to schedule appointments before-hand, if possible.” Your professor states something that makes it clear you lost some important announcement at the beginning of the class and your eyes fly to Iwaizumi in response, but the man is just sitting at his normal place, front class, quietly nodding to the professors’ explanation while his big hands fly over his notepad. 

You sigh, wistfully, and take another sip of your coffee while your eyes thread over his form, clad in loose jeans that still seem tight in those amazing thighs of his and a hoodie that doesn’t do much to hide those incredible arms. Iwaizumi isn’t very tall, but he’s still taller than you and his shoulders are broad enough to engulf anything behind him when you stand too close. God, you wished Iwaizumi would do full TA hours on you anytime. He could work you into overtime too, you certainly don’t mind. 

You gulp down the saliva that overflows your mouth with some coffee and leaves another small breath to accompany your thoughts. 

You snicker just a bit and Iwaizumi’s eyes are suddenly on yours and your blood pressure peaks in a second while you choke on your coffee. Your teacher asks if you’re okay and you are obligated to answer yes while trying to shrink into the chair. 

See. Incredible track-record.

You manage to not make a complete clown of yourself during class again and even win over some praise from your professor for your contributions in the debate about ethical issues and patient safety. It’s usual that you and Iwaizumi end up interacting with each other’s input in debates but he was quiet today and when you’ve made an addition to his comment about unhelpful patients and mandatory rest all he did was nod and roll his jaw. As if you know what the fuck that means.

You chalk it up to him stressing over being in full TA hours for the week and when the class ends you stay in your seat while finishing typing some notes before you blink and they’re suddenly lost in your brain. When you look up and start packing your things you realize there’s only you and Iwaizumi left in the class and notice he’s looking directly at you, almost as if he was waiting for it.

You don’t think there’s another man who can look so dashing before ten am and with just a small corner lip smile, but hey, you’re not complaining.

“Hey,” he says a one-word greeting and holds his hand up and your heart leaps before you can manage to send a smile his way. Ah, it’s really unfair how cute he is. 

“Hey Iwa,” you greet back in a fair tone even if you feel a bit hot in the face, “You were unusually quiet today.”

He smirks and his hand clasps his neck for a moment while he scratches his hair. “Aa, just busy.” He hooks his backpack over his shoulder and walks over to you while you’re still packing your books. “You lost the warning, right?” 

“Yeah, late. Something important?”

“Nothing big. It’s the deadline for the midterm article, which you lost the explanation to but here--” He extends you his open notepad and you see the notes and instructions there, scribbled in block letters not very neatly, but fairly organized. You look it over briefly, confirm that is nothing different from the normal and bring your phone to take a picture. 

“Thanks, Iwa. Do you need any help with the TA hours?”

“Nah. It’s all fine. I organized my internship last month to have this week off.”

“Oh, smart,” you say as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and pick up your purse and the single book that couldn’t fit with your laptop in it. Iwaizumi makes you nervous. You’re fairly sure it’s because of the massive fucking crush you have on him. “Well, let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks,” you notice that he stays there looking at you for a second more... And then a few seconds more. 

“Is everything okay?

“You’ve been getting to class late a lot,” his eyes turn wide when he realizes what he just blurted out and the small pink dust atop his cheeks could be the thing that ends up killing you. Your brain gets lost in a chant of CUTECUTECUTE and for a moment you resist the urge to clench your books to your chest. “The professor asked me to see if everything was okay.”

“Oh, ah…” You actually force a bit of laugh out at that, surprised and a bit breathless. Dammit, you monitor two classes and then suddenly being a little bit late becomes a crime. “It’s nothing, actually. I’m just not a morning person. And I hate early classes, but I needed to get this one because of my internship, so I’m struggling with the time.”

Iwaizumi nods and even gives you a short smile while you two start walking alongside one another out of the class. “Ah, you should really fix your sleep schedule. You know the drill, eight hours every night.”

“You mean that impossible thing?” You laugh and thank him when he opens the door for you two to pass. Hot and a gentleman, God really has favorites. “I’m trying, but it’s easier said than done and I’m something of a night owl.”

“Brat. You’re just on your phone until late,” Iwaizumi snickers and you all but gasp, and before you can say anything he’s signaling to the other side you’re going. “I still have classes, see you on the TA hours?”

“Yeah, I have two days of TA next week,” you manage to squeak out without making a fool of yourself after he calls you a brat and even smiles his way despite the way you feel a sudden heat wave over your body.

“Nice. See you then.”

“Bye Iwa.”

You scurry off the other side and when you turn a corner you stop and do something absolutely ridiculous that is an internal scream with your head against the wall. You press your forehead against the cold tile and breathe about two or three times, all while your mind goes into overheat after a small talk with Iwaizumi Hajime, the hottest, most amazing Teacher Assistant this Physical Therapy course must have ever had.  

You hear someone saying your name while you try to recover and when you look to your side your heart sinks to your stomach as your eyes turn into plates. Hajime is looking at you funny, holding out a small paper to you and probably wondering if you’re okay in the head. Of course it’s him. It wouldn’t be you if this didn’t happen. 

“Ahhh, hi again?” You squeeze out in a weird breathless voice and Iwaizumi’s eyes seem to turn a pretty dark shade while his lips spread in a grin.

“You let this fall.” 

Sure, of course, you dumbass did. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thanks, Iwa. I was uhhh just…” You press your lips because your mind is blank and then God decides to cut you some slack with a momentaneous brilliance. “I forgot an important thing was due tonight and yeah, I was just screaming at myself.”

“Anything I can help with?” 

Yes. Marry me. Or just fucking, you’re not picky. 

Your whole face burns and you lower your eyes for a moment because the images assaulting you are just too much. Iwaizumi looks just so good up close, all sharp jawline and hard planes on that spiky jet-black hair and green eyes. Jesus Christ, looking like that should be illegal.

“No, it’s just something for this bachelorette party I have tonight.” God decides to grace you with some more lying skills and you thank them internally. There’s even a smile on your face. 

Iwaizumi nods away with your explanation.

 “Ohh,” He says with a smirk and your heart does a leap. “That’s nice. Give the bride my congrats.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her.” Then, he extends the paper again and you finally grab it, once again making a fool of yourself to him. “Sorry, thanks for this.” 

Iwaizumi just nods and smiles your way, quickly turning back and leaving after saying goodbye and waving your way. This time you have half a mind to search a bathroom before screaming for real.

-

Honestly, you cannot believe where you are right now. Lawbreakers. The name is written in a pretty calligraphy font in bright fucking neon that simply demands attention in the dark of night. It’s the final stop of the bachelorette party of your good friend to which you are late. From the group text, everyone is at least nicely buzzed and you’ve been laughing with the ridiculous pictures the group of women have been sending you non-stop while calling you a buzzkill. 

As your car pulls into the front of the place, you just can’t help but snort. It’s cheesy, definitely tacky but nice, a use of the western theme that actually plays well. 

Outside there’s a neon cowboy riding a horse and you just… can’t help but be amused. There’s a small line of women waiting even when it’s already late but you walk up front as your friend had told you too, perks of being a member of the VIP entourage of women partying in the allegedly last night for your friend to be free. 

The doorman lets you in quickly and just as you’re passing the threshold a tall, pretty and lean, but built man clad in nothing but a white outfit rolls to your side, offering a flute of sparkling wine from a tray.

“Well, look at that.” The smile he sends you is trained, but charming and you can’t help but smile back. “We truly do have the prettier customers. Can I offer you some champagne? Maybe something stronger?”

You’re just bringing your hand up to say no when you stop, muse about how much catching up you’ll have to do with your friends inside and shrugs. “Well, better get a head start, right?”

“Yes!” He congratulates you, standing too close as he brings you a flute and deposits on your fingers, his hand trailing on your pulse for a moment before he lets go. Then, he throws you another charming smile, the mischief reaching his eyes this time. “That’s a good girl~”

You try to hide the way his charm works by letting your mouth fall in a small laugh, but something tells you he catches that either way. That, you think, is what you call a seasoned pleaser.

“Thank you.” 

Your cheeks are heating the tiny bit as you scurry off the corridor to the club insides, following the loud music and increasingly louder screams.

“Enjoy the show!” The man chuckles behind you and you raise your glass in acknowledgment, hurrying inside to do just that. 

Honestly, it’s not what you were expecting. 

As you pass the wooden saloon doors at the end of the corridor, the sound of screaming surrounds you as physical waves, washing through your body in such a high pitch you stumble in your heels. The energy inside makes you unable to not enjoy yourself automatically, surrounded by tables of women and a few groups of men all completely enthralled on the show that’s already happening inside.

For starters, western decoration aside, you were definitely not expecting to see your friend, the bride-to-be, being grinded on stage. 

The strawberry-blonde male is thrusting against the center of your friend's legs, precise and exciting wave-like motions that clearly are making everyone inside, your friend included, lose their minds. He grinds and holds himself up, moves your friend around as if she’s a doll and humps her behind. It looks so sinful and still in perfect beat with the song and for a second your mind just-- short circuits, hand shooting to your mouth as the laughs tip over loud and hearty. Your friend is burning in embarrassment at the way the man is moving and grinding on her, hands almost locked on her body as if she thinks she can’t move or something will just blow up. 

Then again maybe she’s the one who’ll blow up, being so close to such a fucking hot man. You can definitely see how that would make her blow a fuse, completely not used to this kind of thing. 

You manage to stop laughing at your friend losing it on stage and quickly spot the table, the balloons that have been featured in lots of pictures making themselves seen: bright teal things stating “one dick forever”. Every single one dressed in black and with their current bright plastic cowboy hat. It could be worse; if the place wasn’t so fitting with it’s bright lights and mixed decorations ranging from cowboy neon signs and saddles in place of stools.

By the time you manage to walk over amidst the screaming and join in on the girls fun, the showman has finally let your friend go in prol of fishing another happy bride and she looks every bit completely shaken as you’ve thought.

“Hey, baby, you good?” The slit in her white dress is higher, clearly a side effect of the way the man hiked her legs just so…open, and you chuckle at how she huffs a breath out and let herself fall against the cushions, both parts pent up and mortified. 

Well, you’re already liking the place. 

Then, one of the other bridesmaids presses a full plastic flute of champagne to your hand, calls everyone up to a toast and you let yourself fall back into the festivities. Your friend seems to be having a hard time coming back from the heated grinding session in the middle show, to which she excuses herself from the table and reassures everyone that she’s fine. Still, you pull her on the side, ask her once again if she’s okay, to which she just explains she needs some air.

God, you understand.

You were about to follow her when another bridesmaid pulled you into a hug, happily chatting about how this place was incredible, and trying to fill you in on the fun you missed by being late. Your eyes accompany your friend for a moment, seeing as she walks a bit clumsy but otherwise fine to the corridor that leads to the bathroom. Well, she would be fine.

The current show ends and the lights glow brighter, finally allowing you to check out the place. The Lawbreakers Club is nice and full; filled to the brim with groups of women and men around and apparently yours is not the only bachelorette party taking place in the western-themed strip bar. The waiters are wearing skimpy little clothing, the place decorated as a cross-theme of magic mike and an imitation of a western saloon.

Then, before you can even finish the current drink you have in your hands,  the lights go down once again while the stage is lightened up in bright neon. You’re all close enough and with an amazing stage view to catch when a very tall, very pretty, brunette who welcomed you earlier comes to the middle of the stage. 

The crowd goes immediately wild as the song is lowered to a simple mumble in the background and the man walks slowly to the center stage, open hands and the devastating smile of someone who knows they’re all that and more. 

Bit obnoxious but hey, there’s a literal horde of women screaming for him. You’d say it’s acceptable.

“Well, well, well, look like we have a full house tonight.”

The screaming reignites, sounding even louder since they also come from your own table and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Are you guys ready for the next show?” The crowd screams a resonant yes. “Good. Let us make a lot of noise for two of our best, biggest outlaws around.” As the cheers erupted once again, you can actually hear some names being called, all revolving around names with big, pretty or animals thrown around. 

“Did someone actually scream for Issei Horsecock?” You ask the bridesmaid closer to you and both of you laugh when she says yes. “Oh, wow.”

 “Yes, yes, you know the ones. Now, let’s make our Big Guns flustered with the warm welcome, you know what a big softie he actually is under all that hard, big, brute exterior.” It’s actually enthralling to see Oikawa dealing with the crowd, you can’t help but laugh away at his faces and double meaning. Then he stops, winks at the crowd and goes, “Maybe he just needs a ride. So, ride it, ponies.”

It’s clear the announcement everyone was waiting for, as the crowd loses right there. The lights are once again focused on the stage, dripping low as the music picks up in a sexy beat as two big, broad and athletic men make their ways to the center stage, Oikawa nowhere to be seen anymore.  

You cannot believe your eyes. You blink them once but then become completely unable to tear your vision from the image unfolding in front of you even for a second. The men comes to the front of the stage, holds onto the pole dance and undulates in a sinful, unholy trusting motion that has your mouth watering and he falls backwards with his hand supporting himself as his legs part on the metal pole and he keeps trusting in time with the bass, a honest-to-god mimic of sex that has you swalowing dry and drooling, your body heating up at the simple images that ellicit in your brain. 

He does a twirl in the air, falls in a plank and holds a hand up to hold his cowboy hat all while supporting his body in only one hand. He undulates in thrust motions, twerk his ass in the air before pressing down and takes his hat off his head as a display of strength you never in your mind thought would get you this bothered. 

His jet black hair is short and spiky, mussed by sweat and you immediately licks your lips at the salacious thought of licking it up from his skin. He falls with his back on the floor, start once again to proove just how fucking incredible it would be to ride him and then gets up in one single jump that knocks the air of your lungs. 

You take in all of him as the light catches on his perfect body, wearing nothing more than an open black leather vest with beaten dark jeans and a big, daunting belt buckle and the cowboy hat in his hand. 

And you feel as you have a out of body experience as his face registers in your mind, that mischievous smirk gracing his lips making your whole brain crash into a halt because you recognize that man as no one other than Iwaizumi Hajime, your long-time crush and Teacher Assistant with whom you were just earlier today.

Your eyes are unable to look anywhere but him, completely enthralled by the simplest realization that that single amazing piece of man is actually your long time crush, kind-of-friend and colleague. It feels unreal, impossible, to wrap your head around that piece of information and you’re rendered speechless, mind-blown and enchanted, eyes locked on his glistening muscles, the spanse of his skin on show growing by the minute as he does movements straight out of a wet dream. 

Yours, to be even more specific. 

It’s clear he doesn’t see you with the dimly lit room and the crew of women chanting. You’re sitting dumbfounded, mouth agape and blood reeling enough that your forehead seems like it will explode, but also feeling as if you’re suspended in a haze - as if Iwaizumi’s body undulating on the air as he holds himself on a pole is something of a spell and you’re definitely sucked in by it.

You can pinpoint the exact moment he sees you, as his show’s ending and the lights around the stage start shining once again. It’s painfully clear how Iwaizumi tenses from the realization, his eyes falling wide and curses tipping from his beautiful lips, the top of his cheekbones lighting up as he all but runs from the front of the crowd and in a moment you’re mirroring his embarrassment, face heating at the bizarre situation you’re finding yourself into. 

Your TA is a stripper. And a very good, famous one at that. 

What exactly are you supposed to do with this information?

It’s almost an hour and about three shows later where you’re filling your head pounding by the beat, unable to relax even as delicious men pass through your table and play with your friends. 

You feel tense, paranoid at what exactly has happened and where Iwaizumi may be, stomach turning and unresponsive as you try to sooth it with booze until you give up, rising on unsteady legs. Muscles strained from how long you’ve been sitting still, afraid to look anywhere and be slapped across the room with some other shocking news.

You take a deep breath as you balance yourself once again on your heels and walk to the bathroom for some needed cool-down, latching on the opportunity when another show is already rolling, a hot but unapproachable-looking man with blond hair and streaks on it owning the stage as if it’s his territory.

As you’re turning on the corridor, however, you’re circled by big arms and yanked from the ground, a yelp turning into silence as you take one look around and find dark green eyes boring into yours, a harsh look on Iwaizumi’s face that make you embarrassed at what it does to your guts.

He scurries off with you inside a place that looks like a private room, fairly dark with red lights around and a ominous pole-dance stage in the middle that makes your mind overheat at the images it summons: the man in front of you clad in nothing but a black jeans rolling his hips up into the air as if daring you to take a ride.

Well, shit.

Iwaizumi’s arms leave your sides and you stumble a bit, eyes diverting down as your face burns. You realize he takes that the wrong way when he sounds gruff and pissed. 

“What? Can’t even look at me now?” 

You look up in time to catch his arms crossing around his front. You wish he didn’t do that, as now you have one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen all angry-looking with bulging arms oiled and shining, clad in nothing but removable pants, leather chaps, vest and a black cowboy hat. 

You groan something unintelligible as you lose the ability to speak and Iwaizumi’s expression turns sour, lips pressed so hard it almost seems like he’s pouting, his hard eyes looking anxious and downcast. 

That’s what helps your brain kickstart, completely unable to see Iwaizumi looking remotely sad and acutely aware of how this must be taxing on him.

“Sorry, I-- It’s not you,” You wince as his eyes center on you, unimpressed, “I mean it! It’s just-- I was caught off guard.”

Iwaizumi makes a humming noise and centers his eyes on you as if he’s waiting for you to keep going but your brain is completely blank, staring at him with wide eyes and burning surprise. You have to make a serious effort to avoid letting your eyes wander his frame.

“So,” you start, unable to handle the silence and Iwaizumi groans, pulling his cowboy hat off to thread fingers over his hair in a nervous display that you’re sure he did not mean to be sexy but ends up being anyway. “I’m not sure what to say here.”

“Shit. What are you even doing here?”

“Bachelorette party,” you answer without missing a beat and he all but groans again, as if just remembering is an actual thing that exists- and probably gives him lots of money if tonight was anything to go by. 

The clear display of his anxiety actually helps you get a bit more at ease, and you can’t help but crackle an awkward smile. “So... you work here.”

“Yes,” Hajime brutal honesty shows he’s regaining his composure. “It’s good money if you work well and the hours are flexible.”

Not the only thing that’s flexible. You bite your lips at the thought to stop the words from actually spilling from your lips.

“I take it you're not public about this?”

“As little as I can considering the pictures and social media. The club is kinda famous, too.”

“I noticed.”

The silence stretches for a moment as Iwaizumi looks around nervously, his stance unmoving. You take a deep breath and sigh, lips falling in an odd, astonished smile. “Wow, Iwa, that’s…”

“What?” He bites back, defensive. You just end up chuckling, long breath falling from your lips as you look at him and can’t help but be once again dumbfolded at how fucking perfect this man is.

“Nothing, it’s just-- I would never expect it. It’s amazing, though. You’re amazing.” You wince at your own words and how telling they are, but carry on despite the burning on your face. “You seemed like a completely different person out there.” 

Definitely not the quiet TA you’re used to. Definitely still completely gorgeous.

Your body tenses as your heart does somersaults in your chest, hunger flaring enough that your throat constricts and your face burns once again.

“Don’t you think it's bad?” It comes out a bit strained, his eyes trained on you, tense and vulnerable. And you just about fall deeper for him right there. 

“Why? It’s your work.” You try your best smile, and after a little consideration Hajime’s shoulders finally seem to relax, lips jutting up just a bit as he breathes deep.

“No one in the university can know though,” Iwaizumi says quickly, eyes on yours with a little, tiny smirk. “Obvious reasons.”

That makes you giggle.

“Of course. I’ll keep your secret.” You agree in earnest, honest and clear, and this time when you smile at him, your whole body warms at how his eyes fall down to look at it. 

“Good.” His voice goes down a tone, husky and gruff- and making unspeakable things to your already poor state. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Your heart seems to shoot up to your throat, and you try to squeeze words out around it.

“I… uh… yes, I mean, sure. It was… quite incredible.”

“Really.” Hajime smirks and you try to swallow your heart before you choke. 

His green eyes stare deeply at your face, drinking the burning on your cheeks, the quick beat of your pulse on your throat, the pursed, wet lips and the way you tremble when he all but takes a step closer. You brace yourself, eyes lifting from the ground to center on him and the sticky, hot sensation spreads through your lower limbs at the burning heat you find there.

“Well, there’s another one to be done.” That tone comes again and you’re forced to press your legs just a tiny bit closer, suddenly aware of the fact you’re both alone in a dark room. He takes another step closer and your eyes fall on his lips, smirk starting to split his face in two, “Stick around.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out and Hajime’s eyes turn darker. 

"Iwa-channn~'' 

It's so close it sounds loud from across the half-opened door and Iwaizumi seems to fall back on himself, annoyance furrowing his brows. He takes another deep, heated look on you but tears his eyes away before you can’t say anything.

“Sorry, have to go.”

Your breath leaves you in one go. It feels like you just stepped off a rollercoaster, blown off the ground and slow to catch up. 

“Okay, uh, good show?” 

“It will be,” Hajime’s eyes are warm on you. Meaningful. “Watch it all, okay?”

And then he leaves, the brightness from the corridor snapping you from your haze as you suck all the oxygen left in the room and then screams silently against your hands. 

Iwaizumi feels nervous for the first time since the first time he stepped on stage, about two years ago. It feels like he has something to prove and conquer in this single performance and it doesn’t help that Makki comes running late, smelling of sex and sporting marks that tell just of that, too. But for once Hajime decides he has his own stuff to worry rather than the shit his friends pull.

When they step on stage, his eyes zoom-in on you immediately, something spreading on his skin as he finds your attention centered on him - bulging, enthralled eyes and warm appreciation. 

Hajime smirks. They haven’t even started yet.

On cue, Mattsun, Makki, Oikawa and Kyoutani slide on their position and Iwaizumi is delighted that your eyes remain on him. 

When the show starts, among screamings and money being waved, he follows the steps nicely, out of habit. Iwaizumi tilts his hat at you and you burn so bright he feels his skin heating at the newfound power. 

His vest is the first to go off and he makes sure to have his hands running around his chest more than once, teasing slide until the leather chaps as he thrusts his hips, waving motion that covers his whole body. 

He circles, back muscles in the spotlight as his hands come up behind his head, holding the cowboy hat snug in his head, ass tight in the black briefs as he keeps the motions and then turns to fall down on a plank. Iwaizumi grinds down on the floor, blinks and smiles at the ladies but his eyes are only searching for you. 

He gets up with an elaborate move and puts both his hands on the pole, holding himself up sideways before circling it, dropping and incorporating some break dance Kyoutani teached him. 

Hajime’s hand slid easily with the oil on his skin, slowly planting his thumb under the loops of his leather chaps to the sound of screaming. He feels electricity edge through his skin -- someone’s eyes focused solely on him and the thrill of it it’s nothing he’s ever felt before. Suddenly he understands a bit more about how Oikawa feels with Tendou around. 

Iwaizumi thrusts his hips forward once, snaps his belt off in the air with one pull, making the crowd gasp and scream and the itching on his skin turns south. He watches as your eyes follow the hard planes of his abs and the tight squeeze of his thighs on his leather chaps and then snap back into his face. The fact it’s you only makes it all the more exhilarating.

The choreo is once again on the floor, and he drops to it in a wave motion, hips humping on nothing without faltering, tight ass in the air winning cheers and waves; even so, it’s your silent appraisal that rings the louder.

He gets up again, circles the pole in a charming, teasing manner as he holds the metal bar and grinds on it. Iwaizumi lets his hat on the ground and turns his back to the public in time to snap his pants off in one go, at the same time as the other men on stage, staying in nothing but a ridiculously tight, dark, leather brief. 

When he was first presented to the thing, he hated it and opted to go comando into some shows, which earned him some nice money and was always quite the surprise to the patrons. Now, as his eyes lock on yours and your wicked tongue peaks out to lick your plush lips in nothing but appreciation, Iwaizumi is rendered quite fond of the offending thing -- who’d thought this day would come.

Your eyes are glued to him and it almost hurts Iwaizumi that he can’t go straight to you, bring you on stage with him and glide your hands all over his body. He’s unsure of how to proceed but there’s no chance in hell he’s throwing this shot away. 

He’s been crushing on you for far too long to do that. 

In fact, the dumbfounded look on your eyes is quite endearing, much like all the fumbling and tripping over yourself that he got used to expect every time he sees you. Iwaizumi just assumed you were a bit clumsy and quiet, but then he got to know you and it all blew in his face. 

You were a bit of a dumbass but also beautiful, kind, dedicated and attentive. The crush that started as a endearing feeling quickly escalated into opressing and Iwaizumi was all but rendered stupid around you at all times, firm believer that you never truly looked at him like that.

However, as you stare at him unblinking and eager, the picture of hunger in the most delicate predator, Iwaizumi realises he may be wrong and that thought alone is enough to ignite his veins.

 Oikawa fishes a lady, pushes her on Kyoutani then does the same with another for Iwaizumi.

He smiles at her, professional, and brings her hands to his chest, his hips drawing circles against her. As her tentative strokes and fondling turn into frantic holds and clawing nails, his eyes can’t help but slide sideways, taking in the way you’re hanging out of every move of her hands. 

Fuck, Iwaizumi can’t get hard. But there’s a clear throbbing threading south at your concentration. He can’t help but wonder if you’re imagining your hands on his body instead of hers; your hips against his as he grinds on hers; your mouth on his biceps when she kisses his trademarked asset, the ones that gave him his stripper name. 

The woman slides several singles around his briefs, not without copping a few and your mouth falls open in an indignated breath. Iwaizumi tries hard to avoid it going to his dick.

He fishes for another woman in the audience as he lets the groups slide more singles not only on his briefs but inside his boots. Iwaizumi pulls one while she’s sitting in the chair, deposits it on the stage and grinds on her enough that the woman is overheated, hands faltering by her sides. Hajime’s eyes search yours once again, drinking, basking in the envy he pinpoints.

 Does that mean you wish to be under him, like that? To feel his body against yours, his hips between your legs, his lower body shoved on your face? 

Hajime ends his routine with this one halfway, unable to let them feel what you are doing to him and then - finally - he’s free to walk over to your table. Semi-naked, with his boots, hat and slow-rising hard-on.

He’s done this enough times to be able to keep up with the choreo while he’s navigating the tables, hips thrusting and circling, strangers hands sliding on his oiled body to deposit dollars anywhere they can. They’re mostly handsy, few grab his dick and scream, others palm at his thighs and chest. There’s both numbers and dollars being thrown on him but Iwaizumi is used to it - and that’s definitely not his focus tonight.

Iwaizumi stops for a moment at the table before yours. Joining in the fun as Oikawa is happily grinding on his roommate. It gives Hajime a chance to look your way, enough to find you completely enthralled by his body, wide eyes unwavering, mouth open in a breath as your hand fists the flute you’re holding, the perfect depiction of surprise and enchantment and fuck, Iwaizumi is thrilled.

When Hajime finally stops in front of you, you’re looking at him as if under a spell; mouth hanging softly as stars shine in your eyes and he can’t be faulted for fisting your hair, pulling you up to meet his chest, even if he’s careful with where he touches you. 

Iwaizumi pretends his lips gliding against the shell of your ear is not a planned thing.

“You’re looking too hard. Are you enjoying the show that much?”

Your lips move without words falling from it and having you speechless all but set him on fire. Iwaizumi thanks every god (and begrudgingly Oikawa) for his expertise in what he’s about to do. His hand slides on your hips, feeling the way you sway with tremors and stop on your back to support you as he bends you backwards. His mouth skims the skin of your neck and dips lower, so his nose can cross over your cleavage, softly caressing the spanse of your collarbones. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll start thinking things, princess. Interesting things, physical things.” Iwaizumi lets his teeth close on the fabric covering your neckline as his eyes look up on yours to find every hint there can possibly be of your warm desire. “Seems like we’re reaching an agreement, too. Do like what you see, hm? Do you want me to do to you the same things I did with them?” 

“No,” you tell him in a steady tone and Hajime’s eyes shoot up to yours, confused, until you sigh a breath against his face. “I want you to do more.”

He groans, pulling you tighter against his chest for you to feel the effect you have on him, choosing the momentum to circle his hips in what can be disguised as performance despite it being anything but.

“You can’t just tell a guy that. I may believe it.” His hands drop on your ass, gripping as he guides your hips to work with his and you all but melt, blown out eyes falling on his mouth.

“I’m hoping so. I’m pretty much using all my courage to tell you this.” Your breathless chuckle all but obliterates Hajime’s thinking and he has to put some distance between your faces before he takes your lips in a kiss. 

There’s a ringing around his ears and he identifies it as the performance’s end approaching. He has to go back on stage to strip naked and his cock is going to give a show of his own tonight. 

“Go wait for me in the corridor, quick.” It's a plea and a promise as he forces himself to let go of you and turn on his heels to get back on stage.

Oikawa gives him a hand up back onto the stage, eyes all knowing as they survey the whole big thing going on inside his briefs. 

“Nasty, Iwachan~” His smile is a annoying little thing, but then he slaps Iwaizumi’s ass in encouragement, “Sneak off stage before the end, go, quick, I’ll cover.”

Iwaizumi grunts a thanks and as the boys line up one behind the other, he’s able to lock eyes with you and signal with his head before he dips through the backstage drapes.

You’re not sure what’s the plan when Hajime disappears through the back and your spine immediately shoots up, leaving your friends with a half-assed excuse as your legs carry you towards the corridor that leads to the backstage once you choose neither left or right, but only forward. Your eyes are focused, body overheating as your heart gallops in your chest, clinging to the words Iwaizumi whispered in your ears during his show as it repays again and again over your mind’s eye. 

The door to the backstage is signaled with nothing, the only hint of its location being the in and out of men from it as their shows end and they leave the place to either mingle along the audience or enter a private room for privé little shows. Honestly, if it was for Hajime, you’d blow a hole in your wallet for every single second of his time. 

However, as you’re closing in on the hidden door you start growing strikingly aware of the fact you have no idea how to actually meet him there and having to knock on it makes you feel both silly and self conscious.

Luckly, you don’t have to do anything.

Iwaizumi burst the door open in time to fetch you and drag you inside as you let out a little yelp, and suddenly you’re surrounded by the smell of weed, cigars and sweat along with men; Iwaizumi’s hot, sweety skin is sticky against yours and you have the fleeting thought that maybe that would be off putting to you if you didn't have the all consuming need to drop to your knees and lick it all from his fucking skin.

“Iwa,” leaves you lips for no reason, just for the fact it’s his name and you let your neck fall back against his shoulder, turning your head to finally taste his skin. Iwaizumi’s arms tighten around you in such a way you feel the rumble of his growl and he all but tow you deeper inside.

 You can barely get a look around the dimly lit, dirty backstage room before you’re past the messy lounge and into a tight corridor that ends a small, locker-room styled bathroom where Hajime quickly dips inside. 

You get one look at the metal lockers on the side, the two sinks with mirrors upfront and the four bathroom stalls on the left, two on each side before you focus back on Iwaizumi’s jawline, nibbling on whatever you can find and relishing on every little noise that tumbles from his lips. 

Hajime’s arms leave you for one moment, depositing you on unsteady legs so he can turn the lock on the door and by then his hand is burying itself in your hair and closing at your hip, forcefully pulling you to him as his mouth closes around your neck and he proceeds to kiss, bite and suck at every spanse of your skin. 

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this here,” Iwaizumi starts with a gruff voice that makes your center weep, the force of his hands around you enough to render your feet useless as he strides over to the sink, imediatelly hiking you over it with his big hands over your ass and a hard bite at your shoulder as if he’s pinging you as the culprit of his angish. “But I can’t fucking wait anymore.”

He sounds so pained, so raw, that you can’t help but groan, mouth searching his quickly as your hands reach for his hair and shoulder, nails digging on whatever you find to secure your hold on his slippery skin. He tastes of whisky and weed, but it’s the fact that it’s Hajime that renders you intoxicated.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admits as his teeth nibble on your bottom lip, a trail of kisses making their way down so he can bite at your neck, licking  it over just so he can suck on it, your eyes rolling back inside your head as your body all but trembles. “I was sure you weren’t interested, fuck.” 

That is probably the one thing that could pull you from the haze settling in your brain caused by the fucking thrill that having Hajime kissing and holding you is enough to cause. 

“Are you insane?” You whine back at him, tilting your head away from his mouth as your fingers pull at his hair to look him in the eyes. Those beautiful, heated and earnest florest-green eyes that have been your demise since day one. “Iwa, there hasn't been a day I wasn’t interested.” 

There’s an edge of surprise on his face, along with a hint of something soft you can’t name and you all but moan at him, unable to form words of just how much you’ve wanted him and for how long. So you choose to show him, instead, legs circling his frame as you press your chest against his and hold his neck with both hands to pull him in a kiss that leaves you lightheaded, toes curling on your heels and heat burning through your veins, melting your insides until it spills on your underwear.

A rumble in his chest tells you about the groan he keeps inside and Iwaizumi’s hands take hold of the flesh of your ass and thighs with bruising strength, violent heartbeats making both of your bodies tremble with need. But then he angles himself back, breaks the kiss and curses after one look at your face.

Next thing you know Iwaizumi’s down on his knees between your thighs, holding you open with big hands under your knees and your brain just ups and fries. Your panties are sticking to your drenched folds and there’s no way the flimsy triangle is able to do much to hide you from Hajime’s attentive eyes. He groans, fingers dipping under the sides of your underwear and he pulls it to the side, baring you the best he can.

He doesn’t really say anything past throwing you a burning look, kissing up the inner part of your thighs, and then he’s mouth is on you - tongue lavishing at both sex and fabric, circling your clit with wondrous expertise and licking along your inner lips like they’re about to spill all your secrets.

“Fuck,” slips from you as your head arches back, hitting the wall. “Iwaizumi...” 

Whispered from you that way, his name is the only thing that conveys all of the feelings bubbling on your chest: the glee of the mutual crush, the excitement of being this close, the massive bliss igniting your nerves at his ministrations. If the way Hajime doubles down on his efforts between your legs is any indication - tongue slipping up and down then back up to circle your clit mercilessly - you’d say he agrees.

You feel suspended in time, tense as a tight coil that’ll tear with a single harsh pull. His tongue dances around your cunt as much as he did on stage: perfectly. Deliriously bringing you to a high you’ve aren’t sure you’ve ever tasted. And then he brings his fingers to calmly, slowly massage around your entrance. 

“Oh fucking christ!” Your burning moan bounces around the empty space loudly and you swear you feel him snickering against your cunt, only you’re way far gone to care. “Haji-fuck!” 

Your hand slides over his hair, fingers delighted at how soft they feel and you use your palm to press his face further against your folds. Your hips humping anything they can because staying still feels like an impossible task with the way your blood is boiling inside your veins. 

But then someone is pounding at the door loudly and your eyes snap open as your high slips from you, Iwaizumi’s lips abandoning your sex to throw a nasty glare at the door. 

“C’mon Iwa-chan~” someone calls outside, sounding unbelievably pleased at the interruption. “You know the rules! We need to use the bathroom~” 

“Two minutes!” Iwa snarl back and as the pounding on the door doesn’t come back, you think he got himself a deal. “Fucking assholes. Can’t give me one fucking moment when they’re the ones always doing this shit.”

He sounds so pissed it’s actually awfully endearing. Red in the face with swollen lips glistening in a pout, and despite the throbbing on your cunt, you can’t help but laugh. His eyes come back to you and a renewed wave of pleasure curls on your pussy by the clear shift into softness you find there, so you pull him back up standing and make a point of kissing him so hard you’re licking your juices from his chin. 

Two minutes apparently go by awfully fast, as the door is nudged once again. Softly, this time. 

“Fuckers,” Iwa mutters after he breaks the kiss, eyes as daggers aimed at whoever is outside the door. “Give me ten minutes and meet me outside?” You realize by the tone of his voice that Iwaizumi is nervous and your heart does a sickening loop inside your chest as if you needed a heads up of how much you’re gone for him. Your face must do something weird, as his eyes scrunch up and his hands grip on your hips with a tiny bit of strength, pleading. “I just need to change and get my stuff, I’ll be real quick, promise.” 

Jesus Christ, didn’t he get it yet?

“Iwaizumi,” His name sounds gruff past your breathless throat and you see the way his eyes turn steely, bracing for heartbreak. “You could tell me to wait forever, and I’d be dying outside waiting for you.”

You make a point of holding his eyes because it feels like it’s important and you’re thankful for that as you can watch the exact moment Iwaizumi lets a long breath out, eyes warming as his lips descend upon yours - one time, then once again; his fingers drawing soft little patterns over your skin.

“I’ll be outside,” you tell him before someone disturbs the moment between you two and he helps you down the sink, your panties choosing this moment to slide to the floor, showing the fact that all that pulling ended up causing a rip. You choke up a gasp and Iwa chuckles, hand sliding to your bare ass to pat at the plush flesh.

“Well, one less thing in the way.”

Getting out of the bathroom and outside the backroom ends up being the most embarrassing thing about it all, as you’re forced to pass through a horde of almost-naked men that throw you all-knowing grins. The pretty man that welcomed you into the Club is the one with the wickedest grin and you can see by Iwaizumi’s grimace alone that he’s in for a hell of teasing. 

If the hand gripping your hip is anything to go by, you’d doubt he’s paying it half a mind. He leaves you at the door, tells the ones around there to shut it as they watch, and breathlessly promises you he’ll come in a bit before closing the door.

Even so you can still hear the immediate hollering going on inside and you chuckle for a moment, until you try to take a step and your legs betray you, shaken. There’s a smile etched to your face that you can barely contain until you’re painfully remembered of the fact you’re dripping between your thighs. That’s all you need for your heart to beat on your face, burning so bright you’re surprised you haven’t melted to the floor.

You’re breathless and antsy as you wait for Iwaizumi to come back, the club visibly emptier after the final performance. Your friends have left already, only waiting around until you came to pick up your purse, all of them tired and drunk and leaving in group after calling enough ubers and making sure you were fine. 

And not without teasing, of course.

God, you were more than fine. But you’re throbbing, uncomfortable wet and empty, increasingly aware of the fact you’re standing there pantiless as the horny fog dissipates a bit in the absence of one Iwaizumi Hajime to end your logic thinking.

You get antsy of waiting around in the bar despite the bartender trying to make nice small-talk and instead trudges over to the corridor, standing there awkwardly fidgeting as if he’s taking hours and not literally a few minutes.

The door opens with an urge and Hajime’s eyes zoom in on you, long strides that only serve to make your body once again acutely aware of it’s poor state, arousal spiking to the point where you press your legs together to help with the feeling. 

But then he’s reaching for you before he’s even really close, and you’re quickly running to him and latching your lips together with urgency. Now that you can kiss him it feels like there’s no point in any other greeting that doesn’t involve his mouth on yours. 

His hair is dripping wet with a recent, clearly quick shower and he’s wearing the same clothes you’re used to see him with day by day and, somehow, that just makes it all worse, a literal groan passing your lips as you reach once again for his lips but this time Iwaizumi stops you with a groan, turning you in his arms so both of you can eagerly trudge out of the Club.

Hajime tries to be mindful of you as he shortens his long strides to be able to accompany yours. You’re balancing yourself to run on heels, laugh bubbling out of your chest at the exhilarating feeling of glee of a mutual crush. Iwaizumi throws you one amused look, sharp smile turning teasing as his hands come to circle your waist, hoist you up and hurry the remaining distance to his car.

“Too slow!” Iwaizumi teases with a grunt and chuckles against your neck, big toothy smile against your skin. “Hurry up!”

“Someone’s eager,” you tease but he’s already rounding his car, pressing you on the side to attach his lips to your neck, soft bites and circling hips that show you just how much that sentence is true.

One of his hands surrounds your neck and his thumb tilts your head up enough for his lips to capture yours, a soft kiss contrasting with the need in his grasp on your hips. 

“I think we’ve waited too long.” 

“Yeah? Who’s fault is that, dumbass?” You nibble on his lips and grind your hips on the impressive burning length that presses on your belly. Iwaizumi chuckles, biting on your neck as his hand slides past your hip to close on your ass. 

“Yours.” 

Your outraged gasp is lost on his lips, passionate kiss blowing your rational thinking with a nuke. Would you ever recover from Iwaizumi Hajime? God, you don’t think so. 

You pull him closer, pressing your chest against him, pressure building once again as your nipples stand to attention. Your leg rakes up on his side as if you’re not on the middle of the street and Iwaizumi lets his hand slide to the underside of your thigh; fingers dipping lower, digits gliding over your drenched slit once before he dips them carefully past the tight ring of your entrance. It’s barely anything, but your mind short-circuits, head falling back against the car.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Iwaizumi sounds anguished, teeth punishing his lips as his eyes bore on yours. His fingers slide deeper inside you and your mouth opens in a silent moan. “I can’t wait to be inside this pussy.”

That ends you, pussy clenching so hard around his barely there fingers it’s painful to feel the remaining emptiness. You puff a hot breath of air on his face, eyes dazed and blood boiling as you tense and throb. 

“Iwa,” Your nails press on his skin so hard your own hand hurts, “if you keep doing this we’ll be doing it in the street.”

Something burns in him, as he presses his fingers deeper inside you to watch your eyes fall close and then pulls them all out, quickly opening the door.  

“Get in.”

You obey, having half a mind to wonder if it’s really happening until he’s closing the door and circling the vehicle. “Iwa!” You plead, as somehow it feels like abandonment, your whole being hurting and boiling, a whine in your lips as Hajime slides in the driver's seat and turns the car on, driving it out the curb and down the street as a madman.

“We’re doing this right,” Hajime tells you as he drives, drinking your panting form from the corner of his eyes. His jeans are tight, hint of what awaits you forming a very clear pattern and you feel overheated, frenzied, throbbing with need. So as it turns out, you’re far past the point to care. 

You adjust yourself in the seat, legs spreading to allow your hand to reach the appex of your sex as the other closes on a clothed breast. “Iwa,” you sigh in bliss as the pressure finally seems to give in just that one tiny bit. His eyes shoot to you and fall comically large at the view, turning hazed in sequence as his cheeks color red.

“God, baby, don’t do this to me,” Iwaizumi grunts, hand adjusting his cock through the jeans as his eyes try to flit between you and the fairly empty streets. 

“I’m not doing anything to you though, I’m doing it to me.” You moan and the car loses balance for a second, sliding to the side and back as you laugh. 

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“Try not to kill us, Iwa.” Is all you answer, moan slipping out at the way you let your fingers alleviate the pressure at your clenching center. Iwaizumi looks as if he’s in pain. One of his hands shoots down to hold on your left thigh, bruising strength delicious.

“You wanna play dirty, huh? That’s what you want?” The tinge of aggression in his voice makes your pussy throb around your fingers and for a moment it feels like he knows. “I can play dirty, baby. I can either make you cum like a good girl or let you hang the whole night like a brat, so what do you want?”

Your voice is nowhere to be found and your eyes are locked on Hajime as if he’s the one who hung the moon and stars. He even has the gal to smirk.

“I can be so good, baby, but I’m even better at being bad.”

You skyrocket shamelessly into a little bout of pleasure, a short-lived thing resembling a climax that’s caused by the whiplash of Hajime’s dominance and the pressure bursting inside you as you abuse your own fingers' expertise. 

You tremble on his side, head thrown back with a moan of his name and Hajime curses loudly, hand at your thigh awkwardly reaching your slit to slide over it and push two fingers inside, catching the last of your short-lived climax. His face turns solemn, eyes darkening with hunger as a vein rises in his jaw and a renewed wave of wetness stains his digits.

Those forest-green eyes settle on you as he speeds down the empty street. “I’m going to end you,” Iwaizumi presses deeper and you arch your body, legs falling wider for him as fingers you effortlessly, driving and stretching you on thick digits that make you gasp on your own breath. 

“This is how it’s going to be.” Hajime starts, voice rough and hot. “Once we’re out of this car and private enough, I’m burying myself inside this pretty pussy in one go.” Your whole breath leaves you in one quick breath, eyes falling open as Hajime’s thumb rounds your clit and a third finger starts pushing inside your walls, burning stretch making you delirious as his words take you apart, one by one. 

“Then, I’m fucking you the whole night until you cant even think about a time where I wasn't inside you,” his fingers curve inside your walls, calling motion and upwards thrust that makes your pleasure sparks through your whole body, one hand closing around his wrist as the other locks on a breast. “Until you feel empty without me inside.”

He pulls his hand back as you all but sob, eyes literally welling with tears at the loss of your quickly rising bliss but one look at Hajime has you sobering up, his focused eyes on the street as he hurries down the rest of the way. 

As it ends up, Iwaizumi stays true to his words. 

He presses you up against the door of his apartment while you two are still on the corridor, brings his hands to your thighs and hikes you up against the door, your dress sliding way past your ass as your bare, throbbing pussy glides over his clothed length. Your whole skin feels like a live-wire, hypersensitive and vibrating.

Hajime’s mouth is closed in a bite on your shoulder as he uses his abilities to open his door without interfering with the sinful way you roll your center against his big cock, needy and lost, pleading for him to just fuck you. 

When it clicks open, both his hands fly to your ass as he pushes past the door and close it with a bang as he presses you against it. His mouth is back on yours, tongue invading your lips with a groan and hand flying to tear his jeans open and down just enough for his big, hard cock spring free.

"Yes!" You break the kiss to cry at the first touch of his weeping, hot cock against your cunt, the sheer amount of wetness making it slide from your hole to your clit and then down again. 

Hajime sucks a breath to still himself, slowly angles his hips back and let the thick head slide to  your entrance with perfect precision, slamming himself half the way inside with one powerful thrust that have his head falling on your shoulder with a blissful groan, your cries of agreement thrown around the air above as you angle your head back.   

Your walls fall open for him brutally, soaking wet and ready but still struggling against the stretch. It burns, his fat cock pulsing inside you and as you clench around his girth you realize he's not even all the way inside. 

"Oh my god," you breathe out and Iwa sighs, fist slamming on the side of the door as he braces himself and rolls his hips, pushing steadily, sheathing his cock inside you slowly. You choke on a breath, suddenly silent, legs kicking out without your brain to rein on it.

"Jesus," Iwa grunts as he bottoms out, his legs trembling from the effort of holding himself back, mind stumbling as every single cell in his body seems overwhelmed by the feeling of reaching paradise. “You feel like heaven.”

Hajime tells you mostly because he wants to feel you clench around him and you do, his heart soaring with the delicious high of knowing exactly what makes you tick; but the throbbing of his cock reminds him just how long he’s been forgotten and Iwaizumi adjusts his stance, locks his arms around you and simply mutters, “Now, to fucking you the whole night.”

You skyrocket quicker than ever, few presses and pulls igniting a supernova bliss in your veins, tongue useless as it feels alien in your mouth, brain short-circuiting at his thrusts. You’ve never felt like this and you’re pretty sure you’ll never would, not without Hajime.

You’re so lost you don’t even realize he moves you from the door to the wall, Hajime’s hands grabbing a handful of your hair to pull you to a blistering kiss, the trimmed hair at the base of his cock doing wonders against your clit every time he bottoms out, nestled inside a place you never even felt before. 

You’re so oversensitive, wound up and tense as your pussy holds him as a vice, grunts falling from his lips that make you skin all but burn at the delicious praise. 

As you squeeze “Hajime” past your mouth in a painful breath, frenzied eyes searching for his,  he soothes you with kisses all over your face. 

“Go ahead, baby.” He tells you with his lips against your skin, “I got you.”

You explode. 

There’s no other way to explain the way your pleasure blows you over, sharpshooter through your veins and short-circuits your brain. It feels like being caught in an ocean wave, unable to swim as it carries you underwater and the tides hold you down, unending twirls that assault you through every side until you’re finally reaching shore, rising above to suck a deep breath.

Hajime is peppering your face with kisses as you settle back inside your skin, blinking hazy eyes to his perfect face with a ridiculous smile that must show just how fucking much you’re smitten. But there’s an edge of something painful on his face.

“Wow.” You breathe and his cock responds inside you with a nod of agreement.

Hajime chuckles, plants a big kiss on your wet lips and tries to smile despite the strain on his face as he calls your name. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” you smile dumbly at him, loose and fuzzy around the edges. “Go ahead. Not sure I’ll be of much use, I think I just had a outer body experience.”

“Hmmm,”  Hajime smirks, tight around the edges with his throbbing cock buried in your pulsing heat. as he seems pensive  “No can’t do, baby.”  He rolls his hips for a moment, lecherous noise echoing around the silent flat, then decides to bring you across the short distance to his couch, letting his ass fall on it graceless, cock pressing deeper with the movement. He drinks the little gasp straight from your lips. 

“I think I’ve earned my turn to sit back and relax.” Hajime smiles, predatory, hungry and you decide you just may love him like this. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and ride it?”

-

[house-of-no-regrets]

No Regrets [in the wee hours]

Took a bit longer than expected, but I’ve finished the next little story! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a decent pace on these. No overarching plot, just little stories in the same universe with the same characters. Warning for ~*murder*~ in this one!

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

I've been all-too-easy to wake up since I was a child; I'd often needed to go from dead asleep to functional, if groggy, as soon as I heard my father demanding action or attention. While I no longer need that reaction time, the old man long since locked up to rot, my brain is set in its ways and very convinced that I need to be able to bolt out of bed and fight God if a dust bunny moves too quickly in my vicinity.

Which is how I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden shift in the atmosphere bringing on consciousness with all the subtlety of a foghorn.

My room was silent, still, but I knew without opening my eyes that there was a spirit somewhere, and I didn't even give them a chance to speak before I pointed at the sign posted on my wall, barely shifting from my comfortable snuggle in my blanket and not even opening my eyes. Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit. No, I do not enjoy it. At all.

"Resurrection hours are noon to eight. I'm still alive and still need sleep to function."

There was silence, but the presence didn't leave, so I groaned and raised my head, finally opening my eyes to see the translucent, vaguely glowing, and unfortunately blurry spirit at the foot of my bed.

It did finally speak in a bewildered voice.

"Um, I'm being murdered."

Ah, fuck.

I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table and put them on. The spirit at the foot of my bed was tallish -- I've always been bad at estimating height, maybe half a foot shorter than Yvette? Five-nine... ish? -- and seemed to be in his twenties. There was a considerable dark stain on his chest and belly; likely blood, and the cause of his death. The newly-dead tend to show things like that, as they haven't had the time to get used to modifying their form.

I really hate it when brand new ones find me. I'm not sure how it started, but it seems like more and more often, now, the dead are drawn to No Regrets before they even realize they're dead, at least if they're the type to need my help. Wish I wasn't the one who had to break it to him. I'm not great with people.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm afraid they succeeded. Where was it? I'll get the police over there."

"Uhh... my house. I think. It's a little..."

I sighed. Right.

"You're probably a little out of it still... fresh dead usually are. C'mon, I'll take you around until things look familiar."

Climbing out of bed, I headed over to grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. I learned the hard way that sleeping is not a tits out sort of occasion when you're liable to get the dead dropping in at all hours of the night, so I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top. Little too chilly for tank tops outside, though. I shoved my phone in my hoodie and my feet into loafers, then started heading out of my room and down the hall.

"You remember your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation and learn what I could.

"Uh, Davis. Craig? Craig Davis."

"Well, Craig Davis, I'm sorry to hear about your passing. You're gonna need to possess me for this little adventure, by the way, but I'll walk you through it once we're outside."

"I- what?"

Considering how often I find myself lost in normal conversations, dealing with confused new spirits is especially difficult. Still shaking off my body's angry demands for More Sleep was not helping matters in the slightest, either.

"Possession. I'll explain it in just a minute." I rubbed an eye and yawned as I stopped in the foyer to pull a set of keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

Usually, I've got a driver. Not for vanity reasons, but after three or four near-misses caused by Sudden Spirits appearing in the car with me, I elected to hire someone to drive me into and around town as needed. But it was Fuck-This-Shit O'Clock in the morning, and Graves deserved their rest. The dead don't need to sleep, but they can if they so choose -- and it does, after all, conserve energy. The same goes for Yvette and Ashby; it was too early in the morning for most people to be out and searching for a necromancer to kill, so I wasn't gonna disturb them. I could handle a simple spirit chauffeur and 911 call on my own.

The keys were to the motor scooter; it was the better choice in this situation, allowing for more mobility and no passenger seat for any extra ghosts to drop into. That did, though, mean that Craig would need to ride shotgun in my body.

When I got out to the green scooter in the driveway, I paused and looked over at Craig.

"Hey, I know you're probably still a little out of it, so Possession 101." Script time. At least having this stuff memorized made it easier to do while dozy. "Our bodies need to take up the same space, so c'mere." I beckoned Craig over.

"So like… step into you?" He asked. Good, seemed like his head was clearing up some.

"Yeah, that's part 1."

He nodded and complied, crossing the space between us and settling in the same location, the two of us clipped into each other like bugged NPCs. It always felt so weird, those moments before a spirit actually possesses you. A sort of wobbly, in-and-out feeling like physics is trying to crush you and the spirit together, or, failing that, just kick your ass to the ground so you're not both in the same place at the same time.

"A'ight, now turn around and face the direction I’m facing, and overlay your hands onto mine as best you can." It was just a moment for him to obey, and I continued. "I'm not resisting, so you're gonna start feeling like you're being pulled in and pushed out at the same time. Space is trying to equalize. Let yourself be pulled in. It's gonna feel a bit like-"

The whirlpool effect kicked in before I could finish, the sudden snap and release of tension as Craig's spirit sank into my body. I wobbled a bit and grabbed the handlebar in front of me, then shivered at the sudden chill and dizziness. I'm pretty good at taking on passengers like this, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

"You in there, buddy?" I asked out loud. Especially with new spirits, trying to think at each other was more trouble than it was worth. My lips moved to answer, though it wasn't my voice coming out.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah I'm here."

I grabbed the helmet hanging on the other handlebar and snapped it on, kicking the stand up and plopping heavily onto the seat.

"Great. Let's go."

"Wait, why am I not in control?" came Craig's confused voice. He felt almost frustrated, an undercurrent of emotion that wasn't mine despite being in my mind and body.

"Because this is my body, and I let you in willingly. Easier to keep control when you're letting someone in. Plus," I gave a little snort. "You just died, dude. I've been letting spirits possess me since middle school."

I felt his frustration turn to grumpiness, and then the pressure in my head, like a storm rolling in, that I knew from experience was him trying to take control. I froze and let out an irritated huff.

"You stop that. I'm not dealing with you doing some dumb shit with my body. Either chill out or get out."

"Oh- uh. Just wanted to see if I could…"

"Uh-huh. Anyhow, now that you're together enough to try joyriding, do you remember much about where you were before you were killed?"

I started up the scooter as emotions rolled through my mind, detached and distant, almost like the muffled dissociation I was used to mid-shutdown. Possessing spirits' emotions always felt weird like that, both mine and not mine, held at arm's length. Craig's was especially turbulent for a new death, but given that he had been murdered… I didn't fault him for being a little confused and angry. Even if it did put me a little on edge. 

"Uh- South Pine Street, Dogwood Acres housing development."

"Baller. That's not far from here. Once we get close to your body, you should be able to feel where it is, so I'll have a house number for the police. Don't want to have them scream in all blue lights and loud sirens and have your killer go to ground before they know which house, y'know?"

The muffled flare of anger that I felt was definitely not my own. I took a deep breath, hoped that the killer had panicked and tried to clean up instead of get rid of the body first, and puttered off towards Dogwood.

The housing development was quiet, lines upon lines of identical suburban boxes lit by flickering street lights that cast the sidewalks and yards in harsh white light. The occasional house had the glow of yellow within, but most of them were dormant. Weaving my way through the maze of streets, each one absolutely indistinguishable from the one before and the one to come, I felt terribly exposed -- and alone despite the spirit currently hitching along in my body.

I turned onto South Pine and brought my scooter to a puttering stop, stabilizing it with both feet on the ground. I couldn't help but bounce my legs to replace the vibration of driving; the sudden lack of sensation would ratchet my anxiety up even if I wasn't currently letting a frustrated dead man hang out in my head to catch his murderer.

...I should be more than a little anxious, really, but half-asleep Tabby once again wrote a check that more-awake Tabby is having to cash, and more-awake Tabby is very used to having to deal with the consequences of her idiot decisions. It occurred to me that normal peoples' consequences didn't usually involve murder, but when you live with the dead, you're bound to meet a few killers.

Two houses down, I could feel- not a tug so much as a presence, an echo of Craig's spirit reacting to his body. It was the only one on the street with its lights on and its garage, while not lit, was open. There was a car in the garage, another in the driveway, and a pickup at the curb in front.

"258?" I asked Craig, though I knew the answer already. His anger flared and I felt the oncoming storm again. I snapped at him. "That's two strikes, Craig. I'm sorry for your death, but if you end up driving my body into a crime scene or, god forbid, getting me killed next, I will kick your ass to whatever afterlife you're headed for and stay there to keep kicking it for eternity."

Big words for a short fat lady, but this is, in fact, my body on the line right now. I probably wouldn't be able to follow through on any ass-kicking, but dammit, I would try.

Craig was silent, and I could feel him steaming, petulant like a child denied a toy but with the power of a grown man behind it. With my stomach tying itself in knots and my hands starting to tremble, I dialed 911, hoping it would help quell the rising panic.

"258 South Pine Street. I think there's been a murder. I don't know the state of the crime scene or if the perp is still there, but you might be able to catch them if you hurry. The victim is Craig Davis, white adult male, either shot or stabbed in the chest, likely multiple times-"

"Wait, is this Tabby? The necro girl?"

Oh god I hope that isn't what the operators call me regularly-- I know I'm a bit of a 911 cryptid, since the usual intruder calls are to the non-emergency line, but if I get known as the necro girl I might have to move to a different state.

"Yeah, uh, necromancer, yeah-" I couldn't help but stumble over my words, now, with my train of thought derailed by the interruption. "-uh, murder?"

"Right! I'll send someone."

I murmured a thanks and hung up before she could ask me to stay on the line. I already had to stay around for the cops so Craig could give a statement, and making small talk with the 911 operator was not in the spoons tonight.

I don't like cops much, but in my line of work, they're kind of a necessity. I need to stay on the police force's good side because I need them to remove attempted murderers from my property on the regular. ...and also because graverobbing is still technically illegal, even if I do have the body owner's permission to dig them up.

At least most of the locals who know of me and my employees are chill about it. It took a bit of effort to get to that point, but now at least people don't run screaming from the less-presentable of my employees…

The blue lights of the police showed up fairly quickly, followed almost immediately by the red flashing of EMS. I puttered up slowly and parked my scooter just out of range as the officers set to work surrounding the house, then hung my helmet on a handlebar and walked up the rest of the way to watch the impending train wreck. I could feel Craig's anger boiling higher and tried my best to ignore it; Craig himself seemed to have fallen silent and sullen after I called him out.

"Tabby!"

I was standing just off to the side of the ambulance when someone stepped up behind me and called my name, making me jump and cringe.

"Oh- oh dear, I'm sorry, Tabs. I thought I heard you were the one who called this in!"

I straightened up immediately, face burning. I recognized that voice, bright and smooth and kind and--

"J-Jenna!" My voice was barely a squeak as I turned to face her, looking up at the round, dark face of one of the EMTs. She was a good six feet tall, maybe more, towering above me even in her uniform flats, with a brilliant smile and full lips and gorgeous natural hair pulled through the back of her uniform cap, the streetlight illuminating her from behind like a halogen angel.

Jenna had shown up to one of my early calls for assistance at No Regrets, and then she kept turning up, not every time I was in a situation where I'd be around EMTs, but often.

Concern showed on her face as she leaned to look me over.

"Are you okay? Did you see it happen, or-"

I shook my head, buying time to sort out words by tapping my temple with a finger.

"N-no, I uh- the victim woke me up, he's in here, uh, in case the cops need somethin' from him."

"Oh… are you getting enough sleep, dear? You sound exhausted. Do you want to sit in the back of the truck?"

It took me a second or two to recover from the way she called me dear, my face burning bright red. I couldn't make eye contact even for the second or two I can usually manage so that people don't immediately think I'm being dishonest.

"I- uh- um- w-well, it's, uh, it is like 4am--" I stammered, trying desperately to find words. "I-I guess 'm sleepin' okay, uh, how're… you doing??"

I have never been a great orator and the list of why that is gets a bit longer with every um and stutter.

Jenna's face bloomed into a gorgeous, open grin.

"I'm on 12-hour overnights right now, so I'm basically at least 60 percent Red Bull at any given time. Everyone okay up there at the House? Last I heard y'all were digging up half the lawn.”

I nodded, unable to keep from grinning. At least this was a subject I could talk to her about without making an absolute ass of myself--

"Yeah! The new girl, Chris, she's gotten Daryl and Roy to help her get the vegetable garden going! It's plenty big enough to take care of all of us, and I worked out a deal with the soup kitchen so that they get any of our excess, once things are running smoothly, and I can use their account to buy from that bulk food program that's usually only open to chari- oop-!" I bit my tongue and cringed. Right. I'm pretty sure that's technically fraud and I just admitted to it in front of-

There was a commotion from the house that snapped me back to attention, and the cops were leading a man out in handcuffs. He looked pale and shaken, spattered in blood, and not quite… present, like he had just checked out of reality for his own good. That… was a familiar look. I furrowed my brow. He certainly didn't look like a maniacal killer-

"He caught me with his wife," I said. Well. Craig said. I jumped. Jenna jumped. I flushed and covered my mouth reflexively.

"N-no that was him! The victim!" I squeaked. Jenna laughed, a hearty belly laugh, and covered her own mouth, though she was doing a terrible job of hiding her grin.

"I figured! If he caught you with his wife, it would be an upgrade!"

At this point, you could probably fry an egg on my face. Hell, my glasses were starting to fog up-- I stammered for a few moments, trying desperately to find something to say, and it was Craig who saved me, if you could call it that. I was too caught up in my embarrassment and awkwardness to realize how much anger and frustration he was radiating.

"Motherfucker told me he'd have my job! Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with doing this to me, he's gonna fucking pay--"

The oncoming storm crashed over me before I could get a grip on it, and all of a sudden I was lumbering forward, snarling words that weren't my own, and dragging a gardening pickaxe out of my truck -- Craig's truck -- on my way to the man and the cops--

I let out a shriek, in my own voice, feeling the sound cutting my throat raw. I wrested control of my body back with a lurch, falling on my ass in the yard with the force of it while the silvery-blue form of Craig was ejected from my body, screaming obscenities.

I threw my hand forward, fighting for whatever thoughts and words I could find to fix this. I saw Craig right himself and move back towards me, and the first incantation -- if you could call it that -- that my brain grasped left my lips in a single desperate breath, with a dizzying rush of power--

"INTHENAMEOFTHEMOONIBANISHYOU--!!"

The force of the hurried exorcism rushed outward like a sonic boom, strong enough for even the mundanes around me to feel, and Craig's spirit let out a yowl of rage for a brief second before twisting around itself and collapsing in with a sickening crunch, crushing smaller and smaller until it was gone.

I winced -- not my best exorcism. At all.

As the flare of adrenaline dropped almost immediately and I came back to myself properly, I realized -- blurrily, as my glasses had gotten thrown off somewhere -- at least two officers had their weapons half-drawn at me, though they were looking over at where Craig's spirit had disappeared.

I collapsed the rest of the way onto the grass, shaking, and covered my face with my hands, trying with everything within me not to start crying. I should have realized he'd try something like that, why hadn't I been paying attention- I could have been attacked, I could have been arrested, I could have had to watch myself beat a man to death and I- fuck--

The sob that came out was squeaky and pained, and I pressed my hands harder against my face, like that would stop anything else from going wrong. I should have brought someone-- I shouldn't have let him possess me-- I should have been paying more attention--

Warm tears ran from the corners of my eyes, down my cheeks, to pool in my ears, making my already-trembling body shiver harder with the unpleasant sensation. I'd let myself get complacent, hadn't lost control of a possession like that in years, and- I'd almost- fuck--

"Honey, honey, sit up for me. Tabby? C'mon, let's get you up--"

Numbly, I let Jenna help me into a sitting position, where she wrapped a blanket around me and pressed an open bottle of water into my hands.

"Take slow sips. Are you okay? Just shaken?"

I nodded, some part of me grateful that I couldn't quite see her face properly without my glasses, because I didn't want to see what she thought about me after that. She sighed, though, and sounded relieved when she murmured "Good."

My whole body felt like jelly, trembling so hard I could feel the water in the bottle sloshing around, and I kept flashing from too hot to too cold to too hot again, and I couldn't even sort out my thoughts--

Jenna sat down beside me and rubbed my back. If I wasn't having a complete breakdown, I might have enjoyed it.

I don't know how long it took for me to calm down and clear my head, but the car with the other man had left, and the other EMTs had loaded Craig's body into the ambulance while Jenna sat next to me and made sure I was doing okay.

After a while, though, I blinked and shifted my torso, then opened the blanket more and cursed at the bloom of red on my hoodie.

I heard Jenna curse as well as she stood up, but I grabbed her pants leg.

"N-no, 'm okay," I mumbled, and instead of trying to speak more, I reached to pull my hoodie and tank up my stomach to show bruised, but completely unbroken skin, covered in blood, rivulets following my stretch marks and making it look even worse despite my being otherwise completely uninjured. "See, 'm okay." This was not the first time I've had a possession lead to the dead's cause of death showing on my own body. It wasn't even the bloodiest.

Jenna sat back down, and I could see her leaning in a bit.

"Well damn. Magic ghost stuff, huh?"

I nodded.

"Magic ghost stuff."

I could see the flash of white against dark skin as she grinned.

"So that exorcism… Artemis or Usagi?"

It took me a moment to parse her.question, but all of a sudden I was completely back to myself, just in time to absolutely die of embarrassment.

"L-listen, I- y-you can exorcise i-in anyone's name, i-it's the power and conviction that counts--!!"

"Usagi, then." I could hear the laughter in her voice, laughter that bubbled out moments later. I wanted to crawl in a hole in embarrassment, but- it didn't feel like condescending laughter. I knew what that felt like. She seemed just genuinely amused. "I grew up with Sailor Moon, too."

I couldn't stop the squeak that eaked out, and I covered my face again.

"G-god I hope word about this doesn't get out, people already think I-I'm weird enough, and to- to fall back on anime for magic i-in a pinch is just--"

"Cute," Jenna finished.

I squeaked.

Jenna moved away for a moment, and then she settled my glasses on my nose. I couldn't make eye contact, but I did glance over at her and sheepishly murmur my thanks.

"The officers still want a statement from you, since you made the call and tried to go after the perp, but I don't think they're looking at any charges, given…" Jenna trailed off and looked over at where Craig had disappeared. "...yeah."

I nodded, slowly, and then found myself yawning, the adrenaline drop setting in especially hard.

"...d'you think it can wait 'til tomorrow… 've kinda had a rough night."

"I think they'll be okay with that."