#last time he did this shit was when i was asking for a back brace and he decided to take me to some loud ass restaurant and make me cry. Fuc

[realness-remade]

DUDE WHY IS MY DAD ASKING TO TAKE ME OUT TO DINNER. NO???????????????? FUCK YOU

[daycourtofficial]

I pretend you’re mine all the damn time

Summary: on a mission Azriel ingests a breeding tonic and you offer to help him release

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, sex pollen, slight dubcon

Author’s note: I think this is my longest fic ever and also probably the fic I’m proudest of so yall BETTER enjoy. I think this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written ugh 😩 I will likely write a part two 🫶

Word count: 2.6k

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“What the fuck,” you grunt, as you land a hit on another Illyrian after several minutes of exchanging blows.

You jab him in his ribs, blocking his retaliating kick. You huff as his hand grabs the knife at his side, deflecting your punch to his face.

You go low, swiping his legs out from under him, causing him to crash onto the ground. You climb on top of him, ready to land another blow, when his legs push up from underneath you, throwing you off of him.

He climbs on top of you, grabbing you by the collar to throw you back into the ground, when something strikes the back of his head, causing him to go limp on top of you.

Your confusion doesn’t last long as hazel eyes meet yours over the massive figure unconscious on top of you.

“I had it covered,” you said, pushing the male off of you.

Azriel snorts, “sure you did.”

He reaches out a hand, which you gladly take. He pulls you up with more force than he intended, pulling you in very close to his body. Your breath hitches, his smell of night-chilled mist and cedar invading your senses.

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re sure he can hear it as he looks at you. He’s smiling down at you, a smile that weakens your knees and distracts you enough to forget all about the abandoned Illyrian camp you two were searching in.

At least, it was supposed to be abandoned, according to the intel you two had received. Azriel had asked you to come with him, the two of you making an exquisite pair on missions. Somehow you both knew when the other needed help, exemplified when Azriel hit the assailant from behind moments ago.

It’s like you both had a sixth sense for when the other was in danger.

You’re about to say something when something hits Azriel on the back of the head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward into you.

His mouth turns into a sneer, as he whips around and the Illyrian you hadn’t seen or noticed grabs Azriel by the collar, pushing him into a wall full of bottles and tubes. The guy grabs one of the random bottles from the wall, breaking the lid and pouring the powdered contents onto Azriel’s face.

“Shit,” the words come from your lips as your knife finds its mark in the dark haired male’s back. You rush forward, withdrawing the knife before turning him around and plunging it into his throat.

You don’t pay attention as the body falls to the ground, only moving towards Azriel, who was growing unsteady on his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here, I’m here,” you say, placing your hand on his arm. He snatched his arm away from you, and you can’t help the sound that comes from you at his rejection.

He is groaning, sweat beading on his forehead. He leans further against the wall, trying to escape your reach.

“Don’t,” he grits out.

“What is it? Do you know what the powder was?”

Azriel finds his canteen of water, unscrewing the cap and pouring it over his head.

“Az,” you say, but a growl cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he grits again, “don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

He braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily. He finally looks at you, allowing you to see his eyes. Golden irises have been replaced by blown pupils, a black pit of desire. The room is coated in the scent of his arousal.

“Azriel,” you say tersely, “we have to go now, we have to go and see Madja because I have no clue what you inhaled.”

Azriel pushes himself further against the wall as you approach him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.

“I can’t- I can’t winnow us out of here,” he says, the words strained. It’s then you notice that his shadows are nowhere to be seen, having disappeared when your attention was fully on the Illyrian in front of you.

You step closer again, and his chest heaves with the groan he lets out.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” The words come out harsh and clipped, a tone he’s never taken with you. You’re trying desperately to think of a solution, a way out of this, when you see Azriel’s hand gripping his thigh, moving closer to his crotch.

His face is red with heat and embarassment, but you can’t look away as he begins to palm himself through his leathers, as if he wasn’t in control of his hand.

“Oh gods,” you say, “this was that experimental breeding shit, wasn’t it?”

Azriel nods, his throat tight with pain.

“Fuck,” you say, and he groans.

You think about what you know about the sickening breeding experiments some of the Illyrians were doing. Previous intel from Az had told you all that they had created this drug that made you-

“Oh my gods,” you say, “we have to-“

“No,” he snarls, “no. I can do this on my own.”

“Come on, Az, you’ll die if you don’t.”

He clinches his hands in a fist, his face turning red with restraint. He looks up at the ceiling, and his eyes are damp. His wings twitch and flutter.

“We don’t know that,” he says, his hand undoing the string on his leather, any control he had over the hand is gone as his hand wraps around his cock and he begins pumping it.

“Am I really that repulsive that you’d rather die than have sex with me?”

A moan comes from his mouth. His voice comes out quiet and strained, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I need it to be real. With you - if we - can we pretend it’s real?”

You stop breathing, his words clanging through your mind. “What do you mean?”

The words. He can’t get the words out. His body is on fire. He’s the Night Court’s spy master, for Cauldron’s sake.

And he can’t fucking move. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“This isn’t how I ever would have imagined our first time.”

“But you’ve imagined it?”

“Gods, yes.”

You step closer, your hand reaching out towards him. You look into his eyes, wanting to know that it’s okay. All you find in response is pleading. Your hands lightly touch the buckles of his armor, and he gasps, his movements in his pants growing faster at your touch.

A man starved. He gazes up at the ceiling, tears about to leak from his eyes at this entire impossible situation. You were going to ruin him. You were going to break his heart, and then have sex with him to keep this from driving him mad.

It was cruel. The mother was cruel for this.

“I’ve thought a lot about it too,” you whisper, your voice softly carrying through the room.

He whips his head down at you, watching your fingers undo his straps. Your touch cools his body, but not for long.

Desire roars through him, and it is taking every ounce of restraint not to rip off your clothes and take you. He’s fighting the primal instincts that the pollen targets, his hands itching to touch you, to ravish you, opting to focus on your words.

“I always wanted you to confess your undying love for me,” you chuckle, “or, sometimes when I’m alone in the middle of the night, touching myself to you.”

A strangled sob escapes his throat at your words, causing him to notice his surroundings for a second. He can smell you, and it pushes him even further in need.

He can’t stop his hips from moving forward, meeting your own. His hand retracts from his pants, wrapping around you instead to pull you closer. Every word from you causes his resolve to crumble just a bit more as his hips grind against yours.

You were a bit breathless at the action, so you say, “when I’m feeling romantic, you tell me you can’t dare to be away from me for another moment, and you need me.”

A snarl breaks from his lips, causing your arousal to deepen. You are soaked, likely through your leathers.

“But when I’m just needy, I like to imagine you hearing me moaning your name through the door, and you burst in, claiming me as yours.”

His mouth opens as he moans, and you push the fabric of his leathers off his chest, raking your nails down his torso.

“Gods,” he exhales, “I-“

You cut him off, needing to get the words and fantasies you kept so deeply buried out there, future consequences be damned.

“I need you,” you whisper, “I’ve needed you for a long time.”

You were well aware of how much pain he was in trying to delay this for as long as possible.

His eyes are closed as your fingers slide down to the strings of his leathers. You don’t let yourself think too much about what you’re doing, about how the flight home will be, about how after this your teeny, tiny crush on him will be blown out exponentially worse.

Your fingers gently undo the ties, and his hips seek out the heat of your hands, begging for the friction they could provide.

You slide his pants down, his hard, throbbing cock springing free at the loss of its confines. Your mouth dries a bit at the size of him and the blood rushing to both your cheeks and between your hips.

You look from his cock to his face, teeth clenched in restraint.

His eyes open to yours at the sound of your leathers unbuckling, a soft, “no” hitting your ears.

“Azriel,” you start, but a moan escapes him at his name on your tongue.

He starts chanting your name like a prayer, over and over, a cadence to his chantings as you peel off the top of your leathers, exposing the expanse of skin underneath.

The chanting continues as you pull off the bra you wore, baring your chest to him completely. His hand wraps around his cock, the tip already angrily leaking in desperation.

The chanting picks up in tempo as you undo the strings of your own pants, eyes not straying from his as he strokes himself to your half-naked form. You push your pants down, pushing your underwear down as well, pulling them off with your boots, kicking your discarded clothes into a corner.

You walk back towards him, the sounds of his stroking and panting utterly sinful through the room. His breath hitches as you near him, reaching a hand out towards his cock.

“May I?” You ask, and you want to laugh at the formality of it, if you weren’t terrified of him saying no.

He nods lightly, his throat bobbing, and your fingers graze his as you grab onto his cock, wrapping your hand around it. His wings spread out at your grasp, head tilting back.

You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his grip on the desk is turning his knuckles white.

Your strokes don’t slow down, and it’s not until now that you feel just how wet you are. You feel bad, your arousal a byproduct of the state he’s in. He can’t help his arousal, but you can help yours.

You don’t let the shame linger for too long as you spread your palm across his chest, pushing him down onto the desk, crawling on top of him as he sinks lower.

His back hits the desk, his large membranous wings spread out behind him. Having him laid out beneath you, you allow yourself a few seconds to take in just how beautiful he was.

His tattoos covered his shoulders, making parts of his skin blend in with the darkness of the desk beneath him. His mouth parted slightly, head tilted back towards the skies, as if asking the heavens to watch your sinful acts.

You climb on top of him, the heat of your body driving him mad with desire.

“Is this okay?” You ask, trepidation coating your words.

“Gods, yes,” he replies, knowing he shouldn’t let this happen, but unable to stop himself. You’re hovering over his cock, the organ twitching as it feels just how close you are to sinking onto him.

The guilt is tampered down by the ever-growing need in his brain to breed, breed, breed. It was absolutely vile whatever these experiments were, but holy gods did it unlock a level of primal need he didn’t think existed.

His hands find your hips, and he can’t control how harshly he pulls you down onto his cock, a sharp inhale coming from you in the painful stretch.

He winces at the noise, but you stop him from allowing self-doubt to run through his head as you lean down and kiss him.

He moans into your mouth, his deep, harsh thrusts making the kiss nothing but teeth clacking and wet noises. Your nails dig into his skin as you keep grinding up and down on his cock, every thrust seemingly feeling deeper and deeper inside of you.

He keeps chanting your name, over and over, into your mouth, and you change the pace of your thrusts to coincide with it. His hands smooth over your hips, gliding up to your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, causing your back to arch around his touch.

You know he can’t hold out much longer - he’s painfully close, and so are you. Your stomach’s in knots, desperate for more, more, more. You reach out a gentle hand, caressing the nail on his wing. His eyes shoot open, wings flaring out as he gasps, emptying himself into you.

It causes the same effect in you, the both of you finishing at the same time. His thrusts slowed down, but he kept his tight grip on your hips. You can feel the pads of his fingers digging into your skin, leaving small bruises in their wake. Your foreheads are together, panting as he holds you for a moment.

For one glimmer of a moment, he’s holding onto you, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.

Status report.

Rhys’s voice fills your mind through the tiny opening in your mind you allow him to correspond with you in. You can tell Azriel is getting the same message as his eyes lose their shine, a glossy effect taking over them.

With a heavy heart, you pull off of Azriel, unable to respond to Rhys while his brother’s cock was still inside of you. You start pulling your leathers back on, covering the fluids and marks littering your body - the only proof of what just happened between you two.

The air is tense as Azriel dresses, still speaking with Rhysand. After a moment, his voice comes out, cold and detached.

“Let’s go,” he says, walking out of the room without another word, an icy air following him. Your gaze follows him out the door, before looking around the room.

The stench of sex is in the air, but there’s almost a hint of pain in the aroma. The air is suffocating you - you have to leave, you have to follow Az.

You look to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. Your eyes turn down to gaze at your feet as you slowly trudge out of the room, knowing you likely just ruined your most important friendship.

Part two

[charliemwrites]

хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

[blindmagdalena]

honestly i love imagining the reader trying to ride homelander for the first time and him moaning/being overstimulated when she sits on him and her forgetting who he is for a second and going 'shit, did i hurt you?' and him just. being so conflicted by that phrase. of course a human can't ever hurt him and you should watch your tone but also... it's nice you care so much for him. makes him feel cared for, in a way

18+! Given the sounds he makes, no one could blame you for mistaking one for pain. That sharp gasp and the breathless keening moan that follows it.

"Oh fuck," you breathe, hand braced on his bare chest, legs tightly bracketing his hips. He's sweltering beneath you, holding your hips in trembling hands. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

He opens his pleasure-bleary eyes, confused.

It'd be laughable if he wasn't so delirious. You? Hurt him? No, it's another matter entirely. He's accustomed to his gloves and his padded suit acting as a barrier to the world, to the overwhelm of sensation, but he has none of that when he's beneath you.

He's completely at the mercy of the wet, clenching heat of you. It's a betrayal of his stamina that he becomes too sensitive to continue long before he's finished with you.

"What? No, nngh, it's... y'just... y'just feel really fucking good," he says, nearly chokes on that last word. "Too good. So much. It's so much."

"Do you want to stop?" You ask, touching his jaw. Your thumb strokes his cheek and he moans for the tenderness of it. For the care. He'd begun to think there wasn't anyone who could witness what he's capable of and still think to treat him gently.

"No! No, just... just stay... Stay like this," he says, holds you still while he recovers.

You oblige him—you always do—and bend over to kiss him. Your lips are slow and loving against his, coaxing. You cup his face with both hands and sit with him inside you, feeling you, tasting you. It's torturous bliss. He slips his tongue into your mouth, greedy for as much as he can get despite the magnitude of it all, and you lick right back into his.

With a smile, you sink down until your chests are pressed together. His hands slide up your back and he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, needing you more than he's never needed anything in his life. Your lips are like velvet against his, slick with spit and kiss swollen. It's so much more than he's ever had, so much more than he knows how to handle.

He comes just like that, without having to move a muscle, his cry swallowed up by your dreamy kisses.

[rogueddie]

It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.

He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.

He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.

He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.

It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.

Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.

He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.

He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.

He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.

He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.

"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"

"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.

"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"

"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."

"Are you dyeing it again?"

"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."

"You can get box dye at-"

"I'm not using box dye."

"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"

Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.

Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.

When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.

"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.

"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"

But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.

"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.

"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"

"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."

"Oh."

Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.

"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.

"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."

He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.

"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.

"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's patience pays off in the form of finally getting to be intimate with his wife. Neither of you quite know how to handle Rose's first day of daycare, and a simple email reminds him of something long forgotten.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When Bradley set the alarm on his phone for exactly six weeks after Rose was born, he meant it as a joke more than anything else. There wasn't a day where the two of you weren't both up between midnight and one in the morning, feeding and burping the baby so she could make it through the rest of the night. You were just pulling an old tee shirt over your lovely tits and getting back in bed when the alarm started blaring. 

"Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley held his phone up for you to take a look. The alarm was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum. You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. 

"It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

Bradley held out his arm so you could get cozy and curl up on his chest, and you were there in an instant. But your hand was resting lower on his abs than usual. His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

Your words were accompanied by your hand sliding lower, and Bradley grunted your name. "Are you serious?" It was late, but he was already in the mood, cock getting hard as you nudged him with your knee. "Please be serious." 

He swore your voice was the hottest thing he'd ever heard as you whispered, "I'm serious," before slipping your hand inside his boxer briefs. He was bouncing against your palm, eager for your touch, and of course you didn't disappoint. Your fingers wrapped around his cock as you gasped. "You're really ready to go."

Six weeks didn't seem so bad in theory. He'd been separated from you for longer lengths of time for deployments in the past, but this had been so much worse. You were always right in front of him in various states of undress with milk dripping from your tits. How was he supposed to be normal now?

He was sweating as he whispered, "I'm always ready to go for you." You met his gaze, licked your lips and leaned down to suck on his cock, but he had to stop you. He wouldn't last ten seconds in this state. "No, no, no, please," he rasped, tugging on you gently until you were straddling his waist and your lips were hovering over his. "I really want to feel your pussy."

Your lips brushed against his as you said, "Whatever you want, Roo," while his cock hung out of his underwear and tapped against your core. You ducked your head and rubbed your wetness against his tip as you murmured, "I just hope this still feels good for you."

Before he could respond, you guided yourself down around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. You bottomed out with your soft hands braced against his chest, and he had to hold you in place by your hips as he panted, "Holy shit." He opened his eyes to find you perched atop him with an apprehensive look on your face while his cock was buried deep in your pussy. "There's a strong possibility I'm going to finish in less than a minute. Just putting that out there right now."

You shrugged and asked, "But does it feel good?"

God, he wanted to reassure you that you were still the only thing he needed, but all he could do was guide you along slowly with his hands gripping your hips and moan, "Your pussy feels like heaven." Instantly, your mouth was on his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as you bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh, fuck!"

"I don't care how fast you cum," you whispered before licking his ear. "I just want it to be good for you."

The thing was, the worst day with you was still better than any day with anyone else, and sex was the same way. It was never not good. It was always what he wanted.

Just as he got one big hand on your ass and managed to roll you onto your back, he realized it was pretty much all over. He also reminded himself that a creampie was completely out of the question right now as he held your ankles up in the air and watched his cock slip in and out of your pussy while you giggled and moaned.

"Roo," you crooned softly, pulling that tee shirt up to reveal your enlarged tits, and Bradley had to yank himself free of your body with a snap of his hips. Barely in time, he jerked off onto your belly, and then you guided him closer by his shoulders and kissed him. "Wow. That was fast. You're never like this after a long deployment."

He knew he was blushing as he grunted, "I tried to warn you. Deployments are different somehow." 

You kissed him between his sentences and played with his hair. "How are they different?"

He ran his nose along your cheek and whispered, "It's like, I've got some residual anger in my veins when I return home after they kept me away from you for so long. But after Rosie was born, it was all pure happiness. Nothing was going to hold back that orgasm, no matter what I did. You've been here with me the whole time, tempting me with little snacks like blowjobs and riding my leg, but I couldn't have the whole fucking meal until now."

"You're ridiculous," you giggled as he moved lower down your body, smiling at his cum on your rooster tattoo.

"I actually thought that was a pretty good analogy," he whispered before kissing your clit, and your giggles immediately faded into a whimper. "Now let me have dessert."

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

"Should we buy condoms?" you asked, making a shopping list on Sunday morning while Bradley flew Rose around the island like she was a fighter jet. You were heading back to work tomorrow, and Rose was starting daycare, and you wanted to have everything you'd need for the next week so you didn't have to keep running to the store.

Bradley paused and gave you a disgusted look. "Sweetheart. We don't use condoms. We used a condom exactly one time. The very first time we had sex. Since then, we haven't used condoms. Ever."

"It was just a suggestion," you said, holding up your hands in surrender.

"I don't want us to use condoms."

"I hear you, loud and clear," you told him, crossing that item off the shopping list immediately. "Then I guess I should fill my prescription for birth control."

Bradley lifted Rose a little higher and zoomed her around again before he said, "Only if you want to."

Now you were giving him a concerned look. "If you don't want to use condoms, then we need to do something."

He dipped Rose down almost to the floor before lifting her back up again and kissing her cheek. "We had sex about ten times in the past two days. I can just keep pulling out." Your silence eventually had him turning to look at you as he cradled the baby against his chest. "What?"

"That's just a ticking time bomb, Bradley. I'll pick up the pill tomorrow after work."

Then you spent the rest of the evening pumping and nursing Rose until it felt like your breasts were going to fall off. Bradley put her down in her crib while you packed two work lunches for the first time in what felt like ages. You got everything lined up on the counter for the morning, already a little antsy about running late for your first day back.

"You coming?"

Bradley was reaching for your hand as you plugged the iPad in on the counter so your parents could look at Rose essentially doing nothing and yet freak out about it over FaceTime for an hour tomorrow night.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

You thought he meant he was ready for bed, but he lured you into the bathroom where the tub was full and there were candles lit on the vanity.

"I thought we could take a bath together," he murmured, and you immediately started to undress. You hadn't taken a bath in months, and Bradley laughed as you practically dove into the water. He eased himself down into the tub with you, and you wrapped yourself around him. "So this was a good idea then?"

"The best idea," you sighed. "I missed this."

You could feel his lips on your forehead and hair as he stroked his rough fingers down your back beneath the water. "Are you excited to go back to work?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "Kind of missed Bickel and the lab, and I think I left a mess of folders on my desk that I forgot to clean up."

He was silent for a few seconds, the only sound was Tramp's claws tapping the tile as he walked around. "I'm a little nervous about Rose being in daycare."

"She'll be with Jeremiah," you reminded him. "I've heard so many good things about the daycare, Roo." You kissed along his Adam's apple and whispered, "But I love that you're nervous. You're such a good dad."

He groaned softly. "Just want my girls safe and happy."

"I just want my husband safe and happy."

Bradley tilted his head back and looked at you through narrowed eyes. He had his hands on your waist as he said, "I feel pretty safe right now. Happy, too. But you know what would make me even happier?"

Slowly, you eased your body away from his and straddled his hips beneath the water. "I think I do know," you whispered, reaching for his hands and guiding them up to your breasts. You were tired and sore, but his eyes positively lit up as he gave you a little squeeze.

A droplet of milk formed on your nipple as Bradley moaned, "You're too good to me." Then his lips met your nipple, swirling around as he sucked on you. 

Maybe he wasn't the only one with the lactation kink. You threaded your fingers in his hair, tugging softly and whispering, "You're such a good daddy," until you were aching with need as his mouth grew more demanding. You held out as long as you could while he drained you, but eventually you whimpered his name, and he met your gaze.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you started to stand, licking your lips.

All you told him was, "Get ready to pull out again," before the two of you ended up fucking on the bath mat on the floor.

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

"Jesus," Bradley groaned when he climbed out of bed the next morning. His knees and back felt like he got hit by a bus as he watched you prance across the room as Rose started crying down the hall. "Fuck."

You straightened your glasses and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm almost thirty-eight," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. "I'm definitely too old to be having sex on the bathroom floor."

"You didn't complain about it at all last night when it was happening."

He watched you walk out of the room as he stretched. "Well, you got me there," he muttered to himself. A minute later, he wandered into the nursery where you were already feeding Rose, and he gave you both a kiss before going to the kitchen to start the coffee. He made you some avocado toast and inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then he burped the baby and got her dressed so you could eat.

"You're just so fucking cute," he whispered, kissing her bare belly as she cooed. "My god, you're adorable. You better behave for your first day of daycare. No flirting with all the little boys."

Then it really hit him that his daughter would be in daycare all day instead of with you. Once she was dressed, he picked her up and snuggled her against his chest as tears burned his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he called in sick today instead of having her start daycare the same day you went back to your lab. He felt strangely guilty about someone else playing with her all day.

"Bradley? You're not dressed yet."

You were standing in the doorway when he turned, and he was actually relieved to see you weren't wearing the maternity tent. "You look hot," he whispered, eyeing up your snug pants as you tucked your shirt in.

You groaned. "I need to lose like fifteen pounds. It looks lumpy." He wanted to argue with you, but you immediately said, "Get dressed so we aren't late."

Rose was just snuggling up for her post breakfast nap as he said, "I'm thinking about staying home today."

"No," you said, voice firm. "I knew you were going to do this, and I love you very much for it, but we need to get into our new work routine, and that includes daycare for Rose."

Bradley pouted as you pried the baby out of his hands and pushed him with your knee until he left the room. He got dressed and carried all of Rose's gear out to the red Bronco while you buckled her in. Then he buckled you in as well, and the three of you were on your way to base.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I should probably just retire."

"You can't," you told him calmly as he approached the guard gates. "You need another four years and two months to get your pension."

But you were all talk, because when the time came to actually leave Rose, you had tears in your eyes and one tracking along your cheek as you kissed her. Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug as you whispered, "Okay. I think you should retire, Roo."

He sighed and rubbed soft circles against your back as you finally let one of the daycare instructors take Rose, and then he silently walked you to your office door where you hugged him until he would almost certainly be late getting to the tower.

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

"You're back," Cat said, voice laced with relief as you walked into the lab with your computer. 

"I'm back," you sighed. "Rose is in daycare."

To your extreme embarrassment, you started sobbing with your laptop slipping from your fingers. Cat took it and set it down on the counter and collected you in a hug, and you let yourself cry on her shoulder.

"I don't even know why I'm sad," you gasped. "I was looking forward to coming back to work."

"Mom hormones are stupid," Cat whispered. "And unpredictable. Just go with it."

So you did. You let yourself feel guilty and angry and confused until your tears tapered off. At least Bradley was feeling similarly today, and you knew it. Eventually you wiped at your cheeks on your own, but your breasts were already hurting again which made you realize Rose would need a bottle soon. You were sad you weren't the one who would be feeding her. You were going to have to pump in your office alone, and that made you even sadder.

"If there's an issue, someone from the daycare will call you," Cat said smoothly. "And you can always stop by at lunchtime to check on her."

You nodded and finally turned your computer on. "I know. It's just weird to be here when she's not."

"Try to enjoy the baby phase. Pretty soon you'll be looking for a reliable babysitter for nights and weekends just like I am," Cat murmured, sitting down next to you at her computer.

"Nope. I'm never going out again," you said, making her laugh. "What do you need a sitter for?"

She was silent for a few seconds, and you knew her well enough now to know you shouldn't press. You waited her out while you wiped your final stray tears away and entered your credentials into your computer. "I need someone to watch Jer for my promotion ceremony."

You gasped. "Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yeah. This Saturday."

"Why didn't you text me? We can watch him!"

"Well... I need a sitter for some additional evenings, too." Her dark eyes were more vulnerable than usual. "Jer and I are moving in with Jake. And I need time to pack our things. I just decided yesterday."

You had to stifle a scream as you gaped at her, wide eyed. This is exactly what Jake wanted, but you'd been afraid he'd never get it. He wanted the marriage, the step-dad duties, all of it, and this seemed like a step in that direction. But Cat was so stubborn, you forced yourself to remain calm right now. 

"Well, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Bradley and I are available if you'd like to drop Jeremiah off at our house on Saturday."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, typing away on her computer with a smile on her face.

By lunchtime, you were so antsy to see what Rose was up to, you were practically running toward the daycare building with your sandwich in your hands. If you ate while you checked on her, you'd be able to make it back in time for your group meeting. But someone else was rushing for the double doors at the same time, and you bumped into a firm body.

"I'm so sorry," you said, looking up at him before bursting into laughter when you recognized your own husband.

"You couldn't wait until the end of the day either?" he asked, ushering you inside, slightly out of breath.

"No," you confirmed, "I couldn't. Like I can't stop wondering what she's doing? And did she finish her bottles? Is she still hungry? Did she nap?"

Bradley groaned before kissing you hard on the lips. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all day."

When one of the daycare teachers opened the door and asked if she could help you with something, both of you blurted out at the same time, "We want to see our daughter."

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

Bradley thought you both did pretty well today. You and he made it almost four hours before having to run over to check on Rose, and now he was taking the fastest shower he could in the locker room so he could go back and pick her up for the evening.

"There's my Nugget," he said with a sigh as soon as he picked her up from the play mat where she was having tummy time. He swore she smiled as soon as he kissed her soft cheek, and he snuggled her against his chest.

"Do you want to put her in the stroller?" the woman who ran the program asked him, but he shook his head.

"I like holding her," he whispered, giving Rose one more kiss before picking up the diaper bag and stroller in his free hand. You told him you'd meet him at the Bronco, so he very carefully made his way there with his daughter cradled in one arm. The parking garage was clearing out, and he set everything on the asphalt so he could unlock the doors.

He looked up when he heard your voice, only to find you running down the aisle toward Jake's car where the other man was also unlocking his doors. You threw your arms around him, and Jake caught you in his embrace. Bradley was not even slightly concerned at the high pitched screech you let out as he buckled Rose carefully into her car seat, wrapping his fingers around her tiny hand and giving her a little kiss.

Then he tossed everything else into the back and waited for you while he checked the messages on his phone. Most of the emails were just junk, but he did see an ad for Mother's Day.

"Oh. Shit." He hadn't celebrated that holiday since he was in high school. Other than signing whichever card you picked out for your own mom before you mailed it, he hadn't given the holiday any thought at all. And that was sad, because it was an important one. "Rosie, we need to do something special for Mommy," he muttered. "We can talk about it later, okay? Shh, here she comes."

"Roo!" you gasped, running for his arms the way you had Jake's, but unlike Jake, he got a kiss. "Guess what Cat told me today."

He leaned down for another kiss, making you smile before he said, "She and Jeremiah came to their senses, and they're leaving Jake?"

"No! They're moving in with him!"

"That poor woman," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arms around you just as Jake drove past, flipping him off before waving. "She could do so much better."

"Be nice, Bradley."

But he wasn't really listening any longer as you ran your hand down along his abs and patted the top of his gym shorts. Then suddenly your hand was gone as you climbed in the backseat with Rose and said, "I think I'll ride back here with her."

He took the seat belt from your hand and frowned. "Who's going to keep me company then?" But you ignored him in favor of the baby, and he couldn't blame you one bit.

"I missed you today," you told her, tickling her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her forehead, and Bradley buckled your seatbelt. When he started driving, you said, "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy so I can pick up my birth control."

"Absolutely," he replied, relieved you seemed to have dropped the condom conversation. "And when we get home, we can test it out before I make dinner."

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

He gets a max score for being eager, but he loses points for thinking he could handle the bathroom floor. I need him to make Mother's Day so special in the next chapter. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

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[the-monkeies-girl]

Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌

My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.

Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **

READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 

“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 

‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 

‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’

‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 

Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.

Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 

‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 

‘Why… you bothered?’

‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 

Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 

‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 

A lot. 

Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 

“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”

Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.

Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 

“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 

“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 

Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”

Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 

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You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 

Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?

Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!

Wait.

You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.

“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 

“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.

“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 

“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 

“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 

“Echo then wake up.”

You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 

It gestured at you. 

You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.

“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.

“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.

Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.

A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?

Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.

Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.

‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.

“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”

“Think.”

Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ Tag List: @ohwaitimthewriter @saturnnie-03 @hera-annwn @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @callsignwindow @moonchild1433 @kaenalsha @whamsworld @yummyfant @unsteady-bitch @twinspineout

( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )

[mistydeyes]

hollow apologies and avoiding glances

a continuation of this request

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summary: Months after your release from the 141, you try to acclimate to life back on base. Despite time, therapy, and medication, you still are haunted by ghosts that cloud your everyday life.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

a/n: HOLY SHIT I didn't think this would take off like it did! thank you all so much for all the love and requests to have a followup to my initial request <3

 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque

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You felt the cold tile imprint on your face as Ghost loomed over you. The small shallow cuts on your cheek pooled in a sea of crimson iron on the linoleum flooring. "Please," you choked out for the thousandth time, "I promise you it's not me." Your quiet pleas for respite from the torture were met by the harsh tug at your hair. "And I promise you this won't end until you tell us what you want," he spat in your face. As he violently let you fall back to the ground, you braced yourself for another round of terror.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?" the therapist's voice echoed in your ears. You blinked as you stared back at her, balancing your trembling hands on the table. "I'm sorry, what was the question?" you asked as you gazed shamefully at the light silver cuts that decorated your forearms. "Have you done anything nice for yourself recently?" she repeated, "go on any walks, read a new book, try a new recipe?" You tried to think of the positives during the last year but none came to mind. "I started gardening," you lied through your teeth and she nodded in respect to your answer. "That's good," she encouraged and you just wanted this to be over. "Is that all for today, Captain?" you quietly asked, "I just want to go back to my quarters." She had a tightlipped smile as she gestured that your time was done. As you got up and gripped the door handle, she had one last comment. "You can't bury yourself in work, you know," she said quietly as you looked at her, "it's not healthy." You shook your head as you entered back into the hallway. "God how fucking pathetic," you whispered, trying to hold back another barrage of tears. The least you could do was go back to your quarters and drown in the minimal comfort of sleep.

As your boots clattered on the linoleum tile, you avoided the prying eyes of your colleagues. Despite your temporary disability leave and passing numerous psych examinations, everyone knew what happened to you. Whispers reached even the highest ranks and you left the sympathy flowers out to die in the trash. You ignored the phone calls and voicemails from your previous team, even denying Laswell visits to your hospital room. When you returned, no one ever uttered a word but their gazes pierced into you whenever you walked out of your room. It was humiliating but was nothing compared to the flashes of terror when you saw the faces of your old team around the base. You had taken a desk position, something far from your skills on the field, but it was all that you could handle for the moment. However, you still brushed paths with them once in a while, walking briskly when you saw their faces emerge from a crowd. Once, Gaz tried to come up to you to offer an apology after you were issued an official one from the military. However, a strong slap to the face and a fast-paced sprint in the opposite direction was all that was needed to tell them to stay away.

"This can end if you tell us where he is," Ghost whispered in your ear. You shook your head violently and bit your lip as your face was met with a hard slap. The pain shot through your body as he followed up with a punch directly to the gut. Your ears rang with static as he gripped your chin in his bloodied, gloved hand. "That's not the answer I want, Eclipse," he said through gritted teeth, holding your face painfully. As your eyes pricked with tears in agony, he released his grip. "You're fucking pathetic," he spat, "a double agent caught so easily." You stopped resisting with words from that moment on. Despite all attempts to reason, the chance of your survival grew ever slimmer and it all depended on the actions of one man.

Your solemn walk back to your room was interrupted by the hard wall of a figure. "I'm sorry," you said looking up but your heart dropped when you saw who you ran into. It wasn't the mask that made you realize who it was but the cold, unforgiving eyes of one, Simon Riley. Out of all the visits and calls you received, you never heard a word from him. He haunted you and in some cynical way, he was a ghost both in namesake and person. As you backed away in sheer terror, you kept repeating a string of apologies and incoherent tearful babbles. He took a step towards you as you stood in absolute fear. "Please, please don't come near me," you whispered, clutching the wall as your legs began to tremble with adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I just want to talk, Y/N," he said with an unsettling amount go kindness in his tone, "I-I didn't realize you were back from leave." With the late word, you could feel something inside you break. It wasn't seeing the rest of the 141 that sent you over the edge, it was the fact that he was staring at you with the same bitter gaze that sent your blood into a fever pitch. Your feelings of terror morphed into ones of anger and absolute fury.

"You didn't realize?" you shouted, not caring about how your voice echoed through the halls, "like you even fucking cared in the first place." His eyes darted around your figure and your tears grew like molten lava on your face. "No amount of apologies or therapy or goddamn medication will ever make me forget about what you put me through," you continued, throwing a frustrated punch directly to his chest, "you fucking broke me, Simon." With that final statement, you could feel all semblance of anger and fear dissolve into emptiness. You had dreamed of an altercation, one where you could finally release all of the frustration and nightmares you had endured. But now with Simon standing in front of you, you felt as minuscule as ever. You never left that empty abyss of a room and no matter how hard you tried, he would still be that horrifying presence looming over you. As he stood there, words never coming to the surface, you pushed past him without a second look. "Try to talk to me again and I'll have a restraining order for you," you spat angrily, "and you can tell the rest of the 141 my stance."

[luc1-anna]

"Promise not to put my face in it?" You asked as you plumped up the pillows making sure they were just right for you. "Promise" a cheeky smile coming onto his face as he got the camera app on his phone. Both naked as he stood up and you sat on the bed, slick folds causing the towel underneath you to become wet, just the sight of his cock standing straight up was doing so much for you.

"Go on then" giving him consent to record you, only if your voice and face wasn't in it, incase the unthinkable happened, plus you two were only friends with benefits, having no proper ties other than college classmates and hookup buddies.

Positioning the camera as it leaned against your metal water bottle, only showing the middle of your room, grabbing your legs and dragging you so that you rested on the pillows, legs propped up, dripping hole on full display for him. The only thing that showed in the camera was your legs and his hands as they held them down by your feet.

"You ready?" He asked, pouring the last contents of the lube onto his 3 fingers. Nodding in response. "I need words darling" gosh, anything he said could cause you to cum, Especially the way he called you darling.

"Yes then" responding as you shuffled around, trying to brace yourself for the 3 fingers he was about to fuck you with, but you wished that it was his dick he would fuck you with. A smile coming onto his face as he stretched out the lube on his fingers before slowly climbing onto the bed, your eyes kept on focusing on the way his dick moved. "Ready?" "Yeah.." bracing yourself as his fingers got closer to your aching hole. Glancing at the camera to start recording.

His fingers teasing the entrance of your slicked pussy, biting your lip as you felt his slowly enter you, it was easy access for you as you were soaking wet along with the help of the lube. "Shit.." laboured breathing started as you felt him, walls trying to close as he pushed further inside.

A smirk coming on his face. "You like that?" He teased you, nodding in response, gripping the pillows you rested on. Quicking his pace as he held your knee the steady himself, pumping in and out of your slick hole, your juices coating his hands with each thrust. He wished you would squirt right now, that was probably one of his main goals in life.

Completely forgetting that he was recording despite it only being a few minutes, letting out a lewd moan, resting your head back onto the headboard.

After a few more minutes, he retook his fingers from your dripping hole, the way your juices clung to his fingers, leaving a little trail along the bed, sticking them in his mouth to get the best taste of you. Smiling as he saw you trying to catch your breath, his tongue swirling around his fingers, showing you what he could do to that perfect pussy of yours.

Dragging your ankles as he made you lay down on the bed, bringing you close to his body as he sat on his knees. "You sure you're ready?" Grabbing the phone and pushing your lower half up onto his thighs, slapping his already soaked hand on your cunt, resulting in a moan from you, holding your hand over your mouth. Grabbing his cock and rubbing his swollen tip along your folds, he didn't even waste time as he pushed it in, gummy walls gripping his tip as he pushed it further in, his thickness catching every crevice and detail inside.

Throwing his phone beside your head as he grabbed your hips, he waited weeks for this feeling to come back, no hand or sex toy could solve his desire for you. Tracing every curve of your hips as he gripped them harder, he didn't dare to start off slow when it came to you.

Moaning out his name as you felt him glide inside of you. "You look so pretty babe" he called you all sorts of petnames despite not being in a serious relationship, though you did contemplate if he did like you properly with the way he acted around you. "Shu-" another sequence of moans escaping. "Shut up" you didn't dare try to kick or hit him as you knew he'd enjoy it.

"Yeah yeah" smirking at you as he saw you retaliating to his comment. Balls hitting your skin, the way the room filled with the sound of it, along with your moans. You'd surely be bruised after an evening like this. Fingers gracing your skin as they made their way down to your clit, gently teasing it with a few rubs. Fortunately he would try and stuff his fingers in there too, since his cock was already stretching you out to the max. Lips leeching off his cock, forcing him to stay inside.

Fingers swirling around your lower lips, the way they purposely stayed along your clit, making sure to dig in. Moaning each time he did that, you just wanted to squirm away but his hand still on your hip stopped you. "P-Please" you cried out, the way his fingers touched your most sensitive spot and to add to the pleasure he had his full cock inside of you, stretching you out with each thrust, at this rate he was practically up in your cervix. Leaning over and grabbing a pillow, you'd wake up the whole floor if you kept it up at this rate. Holding a pillow against your mouth, wishing you could scream out his name and let the whole apartment know how good he made you feel.

Seeing the pillow cover your face, only made him wanted to fuck you harder, receding how dick from your hole, leaving trails of his precum as he got off the bed. Much to your dismay as you asked, "Why'd you stop?" You wanted him inside you for a lifetime, even if you didn't move, just cockwarming him was enough for you. No response. But the feeling of your ankles being dragged to the end of the bed gave you some hope.

He was so strong that it was scary that he could just flip you over onto your stomach, his hands repositioning your lower body, ass up, face down. Pushing your torso further down till it was touching the mattress. Picking the phone up as he lined himself back up, the surreal feeling of his tip touching your lips once again as he tried it find your hole brought you back to reality, stuffing the pillow in your face, as you felt his tip entering, followed by the rest of his thickness. You could feel him getting further down, the way he could probably reach your g spot in this position.

His calloused hand gripping your ass, making sure that he was steady before moving. Positioning the camera so that it could get the best angle of you. "Tell me if it's too much" nodding in response as you felt him, he didn't start off slow like you would've hoped, getting straight to the main point as he pounded into you, the bed already creeking under the pressure.

The way he grabbed your waist, to hold you still incase it was too much for you. "Shit" harsh breaths already starting up again. He had completely forgotten about the camera as he threw it right near your head, trying to record some of your muffled moans. Both hands groping your hips as he pushed further into you. The feeling of his balls swiftly emptying into your womb, he didn't even mean to but he was so worked up that he forgot the feeling of it.

Moans filling up the room as, You could feel the warm liquid pour into you. "Sorry?" He wasn't even sure if he should be apologising because of the way you reacted.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 39

part 1 | part 38 | ao3

Eight hours, four pizzas, and one — yes, one, Henderson, Jesus — job-well-done beer each later, Steve waves the kids out the door and promptly collapses facedown on his shiny new vinyl flooring.

"God," he groans, rolling his forehead on the floor.

Eddie's not much better off. He's slumped against the front door, bracing his weight with one hand, head hung low between his shoulders. His hair's all frizzed out with sweat, and Steve can hear his soft panting over the hum of the radio. "Yeah," he says in breathless agreement. "Fatherhood is exhausting."

Steve snorts a quiet laugh. "Welcome to the babysitters club."

"Not even getting paid for this shit," Eddie complains, but Steve can see the smile tugging at his mouth when he steps over him. "I'm gonna grab a shower. That okay?"

"Go ahead," Steve mumbles, eyelids heavy as he waves Eddie down the hall. "Towels are in the closet. Borrow whatever you want."

His limbs feel like lead. Shoulders throbbing; headache worse. He's also... maybe, possibly having some major regrets about moving all the couches out onto the front lawn along with the rolled-up carpet earlier (a fact he'd sooner eat his own shirt than admit to Eddie, because Eddie warned him not to do it; told him he was going to be too tired after installing the floors to bring them all back inside, and Steve had shrugged him off at the time because Steve's an overconfident dipshit.) Anyway, he's pretty sure the spasm in his spine is price enough to pay for not listening. He's not about to put up with Eddie's gloating, too.

Eddie pauses in the hallway, rings tapping against the wall, smug little bastard look on his face. "You doin' okay down there, champ?"

It's a serious effort to raise his arm to flip him the bird, but Steve manages.

—

"Hey, sunshine."

Eddie's voice is gentle as Steve blinks himself awake, neck cracking horribly, little puddle of drool under his chin. He's not sure when he drifted off. The last thing he remembers is nuzzling his cheek against the floor, feeling the weirdly papery material slide against his stubble; thinking about how it was cheap and it was tacky but it was new and it was his. How it felt like as good of a fresh start as anyone in Forrest Hills was going to get.

"How long was I out for?" he groans, rolling onto his back to stretch out his stiff limbs.

Long enough, apparently. Eddie got a whole pillow fort situation sorted out while Steve was snoozing — dragged all the pillows and blankets off Steve's bed and arranged them in a pile in the middle of the empty room, pulled a side table and lamp over from the corner, gathered up the radio and the last box of leftover pizza and his black lunchbox and a couple of beers to share.

He's also freshly showered and wearing Steve's pajamas. Looks clean and warm and soft; borrowed Hawkins High green sweats, a thin, white undershirt, the shoulders damp where his hair hangs in pretty wet waves.

Steve is so, so normal about the picture Eddie paints.

So normal.

Not at all popping a boner over a guy in ratty loungewear.

Steve crosses his legs — subtly, left ankle to right knee, but Eddie gives him a knowing smirk over the lip of his beer bottle anyway.

"Shut up," Steve blushes.

"Did I speak?" Eddie asks.

—

part 40

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[tsotg]

The Monster Hunter and the Hunted Monster

I thought of another universe I might wanna make content for. I know a lot of people already have this type of AU already but I can't resist making my own ;;-;;

Imagine Hiccup has been hunting Jack for ages. Jack has been one of the few creatures he's never been able to catch and that type of challenge is exhilarating. So he keeps trying to find him, luring him out with the threat of harm to his precious forest.

One day, for a reason or another, Pitch curses them both. They're both lost and trapped in a new and un familiar environment. Hiccup is overjoyed that he's finally able to catch Jack when they bump into each other but that feeling doesn't last long. They're both kind of terrified of where they are but won't show it to each other, instead letting it out as anger towards each other.

A few days into their banishment, Hiccup gets desperate. There's no animals to hunt, nothing to grow, he's starving and it doesn't seem like he's gonna get any food any time soon. So he goes to Jack and begs to know how he's not hungry. Jack replies with how he obviously doesn't get hungry because he's a spirit.

Hiccup breaks in front of him, he tells him how scared he is and how much he wants to go back home. Jack gets surprised, of all people, he would've never expected Hiccup to show this much vulnerability.

Jack feels the same as he does, he's scared and he wants to go home. And after settling down and making sure Hiccup isn't trying to trick him, he tells him so.

They talk about how much they love their home, about anything that comes to mind really. Until Hiccup has a fainting spell. Jack hurries to help him but has no idea how humans work anymore. He's been in his forest for so long.

When Hiccup wakes up, Jack asks him what happened. Hiccup reminds him how hungry he is and how little energy his body has. Jack hesitates before telling Hiccup how he has saved people lost in the forest in the same situation before but he's not gonna like how it's done.

Hiccup brushes it off, it can't be that bad right?

Jack presses his lips together in an awkward smile.

"Well- Not a lot of people get lost in the woods you know. And the children can see and hear me no problem. They follow the animals out of the forest. I've only done this twice and the first time I didn't even know I could do it so it wasn't super successful..."

"Just spit it out, if you can save me, do it. I want to go home after we get out of this shit hole."

Jack thought about telling him for a second but he doubted Hiccup would let him after hearing of the process.

"Ok, close your eyes then."

"Why?"

"It'll be easier for the both of us."

So Hiccup closed his eyes after giving Jack an eye roll. Jack took Hiccup's chin, opening his mouth slightly, braced himself and leaned in. As soon as their lips connected, Hiccup jumped in surprise and tried to push Jack away but couldn't find the strength in time before he realized what was happening.

This wasn't just a kiss, Jack's eyes glowed and his skin slowly lost the little colour it had left. He was transferring his energy to Hiccup. And Hiccup felt alive again. He leaned in slightly and enjoyed the feeling this gave him. Until he felt Jack's grasp on him weakened and he regained he train of thought again.

Jack took a second to snap out of the daze this put him in. Hiccup feared for a the worst for a second before Jack blinked a few times and his eyes went back to normal. He looked around for a second, almost looking as if he had no idea where he was. His eyes locked onto Hiccup and fear crept onto his expression. Hiccup felt him tense up in his arms. And then just like that, he took a breath for the first time since Hiccup closed his eyes and he looked normal again.

"For the Gods, if you told me this was gonna kill you I wouldn't have let you to do it!" Hiccup scolded.

"I didn't know it would do that. It never did in my forest." Jack looked off in the distance to ponder for a bit before what Hiccup said actually registered in his head. "Wait you're worried about me?"

"That's not the point."

"Yes it is!"

Jack gave Hiccup as teasing grin. Hiccup completely disconnected from the conversation and got up. Jack couldn't hold back, he kept teasing Hiccup as he tried to walk away.

"Well look who's feeling better." Hiccup tried to say it in a sarcastic tone but couldn't hold back a small smile.

==============

RAHHH PLEASE tell me if you wanna read more!! I will write more! And maybe I'll draw some better art of these gays.

[rempewiththetempe]

Is This Off The Record? — Quinn Hughes⁴³

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n interviews Quinn and it doesn’t exactly go as planned.

Warnings: use of y/n, cursing

w/c: 3,087

a/n: I wrote this literally right after getting over Covid so it’s slightly rushed but the next chapter should be better.

  “Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked, trying to show the same confidence level that the woman before you had shown, a very fake smile plastered on your face. If the fake smile didn’t give you away, then your words did. Your tone was shaky and it was easy to tell you were barely even comfortable in your own skin. 

  You watched as Quinn looked at you for a moment. You weren't exactly super fond of the way he was looking at you. He looked as if he was trying to appear in thought, not like he was actually trying to think over your question. You didn’t like his little power move. You wanted an answer, not whatever the fuck it was that he was currently giving you. After a moment, he finally spoke and you were grateful that the awkward silence was over.

  “Why not?” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You hated how nonchalant he appeared. It pissed you off beyond reason.

  You sighed, bracing yourself for the short interview that was to come. Usually, it was the interviewees mentally preparing for these things, and you were sure Quinn was doing it too, but you had to make sure to ready yourself before questioning the mystery of a man in front of you.

  “I understand you’ve never really served a leadership role, besides being an alternate captain for Team USA and an alternate captain here last year, before being named Captain of the Canucks. Could you comment on that?” You asked with a hint of shakiness in your voice. You didn’t mean to start with a loaded question, but it was the first thing that came to your mind, and you didn’t want to just sit in silence while you thought of a different question.

  Quinn looked visibly offended by your question. You immediately wanted to retreat into some sort of safe space when you noticed that. You hadn’t meant to offend him, you were only trying to do your job. You hoped he understood that.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean by that,” Quinn spoke up and said after a calculated silence, his face contorted in offended confusion. You guessed by his response that your question hadn’t quite been worded correctly.

  “I just mean that-” You started quickly, not giving yourself any time to think about what you were saying, just wanting to clear up the situation quickly. “You know-” You stuttered out a final time before deciding to take a quick breath and collect your thoughts before continuing. Breathe.

  “What I meant to say was, do you think that this leadership role will be a lot to take on, or are you more of a natural leader?” You said, your thoughts collected as much as they were going to be.

  Quinn nodded with something close to understanding cast on his features. He sucked in a breath at your question and he sounded almost annoyed. You supposed you couldn’t exactly blame him for it, you’d be more than annoyed if you had to deal with shit like this often, but it still pissed you off a little.

  You looked over at J.T. briefly, silently begging him to come back over and ease the tension. You knew he couldn’t. He simply glanced at you with a sympathetic smile from where he stood across the room. You returned the smile, breathing deeply before turning back to Quinn.

  When you turned back to Quinn, he almost looked angry. No, angry wasn’t the word. Irritated, agitated, etc. Those words worked but those weren’t exactly what his face conveyed. It was something else.

  Quinn had glanced over to J.T. as well, a pleading look in his eyes, but for slightly different reasons. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I mean, I think it’ll be an adjustment, obviously, but I love my team, you know?” He said, raising his eyebrows slightly before letting out a small chuckle. “We’re all family here and I’m ready to take that responsibility of leading our team, our family.”

  Family. You thought his choice of describing the team as a family was interesting. You were sure a lot of players would describe their team that way, but it was interesting for another reason. Quinn said it like he truly meant it. Like his team was truly his family. He said it with the care that conveyed a familial bond. That was what was interesting. Family.

  You nodded at his answer, offering him a small smile that wasn’t returned. Why did he have to make this more awkward? You dropped the smile from your face for the rest of that interview. You weren’t smiling for yourself anyway, you were smiling out of politeness, decency, and respect. If he wasn’t giving that to you, then you didn’t have to give that to him, you decided.

  You continued the interview, thanking some higher power every once in a while that this was not a video interview, because there were more than a few awkward pauses that you were more than glad you wouldn’t need to include. You glanced over to J.T. every once in a while, seeking reassurance, because you sure as hell weren’t receiving any from Quinn. You knew it wasn’t his job to make you feel comfortable while you asked him questions, but it would’ve been nice. Instead, he didn’t even offer a simple smile back to you, only smiled every so often when talking about his teammates.

  You were grateful when J.T. got done with his interview and walked back over to you and Quinn. It gave you an out, a way to simply end the interview early and leave. As soon as J.T. stepped within 6 feet of you and Quinn you wrapped up the interview with little warning, just saying that all your questions had been answered, thanking Quinn, and telling him you look forward to speaking with him again. He nodded, seemingly not giving a fuck about what you had to say.

  You said thank you to J.T. as well, wishing him well. He offered to walk you out to your car, but you politely declined. You swore you could see Quinn roll his eyes at J.T.’s offer, but you couldn’t be sure.

  You made your way to your car, the click-clack of your shoes on the ground an almost comforting sound. You made sure to hit the unlock button on your car key about three times as you approached your vehicle. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of setting off your own car alarm. You opened your car door, quickly disappearing behind the tint of your windows. You didn’t even put the key in the ignition for a good two minutes, just resting your head on the steering wheel, thinking about everything and nothing.

  You felt overwhelmed with a fear that you knew all too well as you started your car. The fear of not being good enough. The fear had haunted you for nearly your entire life. It wasn’t new to you, but you still hated it and it still controlled you to a certain extent.

  You drove home in complete silence. No music. No humming. No cursing out other drivers. You kept your eyes on the road and tried to keep unwelcome thoughts out of your mind. It worked for the most part, but you knew hiding from things wasn’t the answer. You just wanted to wait until you were in the safety of your own apartment before you dealt with how you felt.

  You parked your car, counting your blessings and the fact that your apartment complex had a parking lot, so you didn’t have to walk far. Of course, once you got to your apartment door, your keys wouldn’t fucking cooperate with you. And by that, you mean that you couldn’t find the right one on your keychain. Your keychain had some keys that hadn’t been in use in years. It took you forever to find the right one. You were frustrated, to say the least. That’s always how things go though. The most annoying things happen when you really are not in the mood for them.

  You opened your apartment door, muttering to yourself, “I have to get those fucking labeled,” as you walked in. You groaned as you tried to shut the door behind you, but of course, it didn’t quite close all the way. You shut the door all the way, wanting nothing more than to slam it as hard as you could, but knowing, for obvious reasons, that you couldn’t.

  You breathed deeply, setting your bag down on the counter, making sure to dig your phone out of it and shove it in your pocket, before moving to go sit in your bedroom. You didn’t really know if you were going to your bed or your desk, but you knew you were going to your room. You would sit on your couch if it was actually put together and not sitting disassembled in its box in the middle of your living room.

  You sat down on your bed, above the covers. You stared at the wall for a few moments before pulling your phone back out of your pocket. You’d used your phone to record the interviews. No video, just audio. You knew you would have to start transcribing at some point today, but you weren’t super keen on doing that right now. You didn’t want to think about your job right now, which was something you never thought you would say. More accurately, you didn’t want to think about Quinn right now. Quinn and the odd interview and the weird looks and the stressful, well, everything. He wouldn’t leave your mind, his silent belittlement haunting you.

  You looked at the time that was displayed on the screen. 2:15. Not bad. You thought about it for a moment. You could maybe take a nap. You were kind of tired. More mentally than physically though, but you would do anything to ease your mind right now. 

  You didn’t bother changing your clothes, they were comfortable enough. You plugged your phone in, setting it on your nightstand before getting up to turn the light off. It didn’t do much to darken the room. You hadn’t put your curtains up yet and the sun was peeking through your bedroom window quite easily. It wasn’t ideal, but you'd managed to fall asleep with worse going on.

  You sighed, climbing under the covers and getting comfortable. It took a few moments of tossing and turning, but you finally got into a comfortable position. It didn’t last long though, and soon, what was supposed to be a relaxing nap, became lying awake in silence, constantly moving and trying to sleep. You didn’t sleep. It took an hour before you finally gave up and sat up in your bed.

  You grabbed your phone off of your nightstand, deciding to just scroll on your phone for a bit. You opened Instagram. You didn’t post often. You mainly just used it to message and stalk people. You had a private account that not many people tried to follow often, so you were a little surprised when you saw that you had a new follow request. From j.tmiller9. It had the little blue checkmark next to it, so you figured it was legit. You accepted the follow request, not thinking too much of it besides the fact that you were happy you’d at least made a good impression on someone. You didn’t like the subtle reminder of Quinn though. 

  Everything about Quinn pissed you off. His nonchalance. The way he brushed you off. His stupid fucking sweaty hair after the practice. You especially hated how he’d made you feel so small.

  You unplugged your phone, deciding that if you couldn’t sleep, you might as well do something productive with your time. You stood up from your bed, not bothering to turn the light on, the natural light from the window being enough. Pulled out the chair from your desk, you opened your laptop and sat down, ready to transcribe the interviews. You decided to start with Quinn’s. Might as well.

  You opened the voice memo app on your phone and began the transcribing. The recording of your and Quinn’s voices coming through your phone stressed you out. Maybe you shouldn’t have started with his interview. You desperately wanted to get through this with no trouble. You took a steadying breath, whispering, “You’re okay,” to yourself as you did so.

  With somewhat shaky hands, you rewinded the recording on your phone so you could begin typing, but stopped before you could hit play when you saw an Instagram notification. You clicked on it almost immediately and were taken to a message from J.T. You read it, letting out a sigh of relief as you did. It read, You did good today, Kid. Sorry about Quinn, he’s just a little stressed lately. I’ll have Petey talk to him, don’t worry. He’ll warm up to you.

  Quinn was just stressed. That had to be the reason for his behavior earlier, right? You chose to believe it because you really did not feel like worrying anymore. You hit play on the recording and began transcribing.

—

  The next practice was two days after the first one. You’d almost opted out of going. You still had some things to get done at home, since you’d just moved in and all, and it wasn’t like you’d have entirely new questions to ask only two days later. Maybe just the ability to ask some other people similar questions. You knew you’d be asking the same questions they’d been asked a thousand times already, and it didn’t really sit right with you. You knew that you should go though, and so you did.

  You didn’t get there super early this time. You didn’t feel the need to talk to the players before the practice again. You knew that photos during the practice and maybe a short interview after the fact would suffice. You didn’t need to try and overachieve all the time. You didn’t need to set such higher standards for yourself than for others. You’d been told that a lot, but it was hard to actually put it into practice. You tried though. You tried.

  You snapped a few photos during the practice. You were proud that you’d gotten some good ones. You’d also laughed when you saw Quinn cut a little too hard on his edges and almost break his ankles. He was covered in ice as he got up. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you realized you’d gotten a photo of him going down. It wouldn’t have been as funny if it was anyone else. You didn’t really know why you found it so funny when it was Quinn, but you did.

  The practice went as normal and the sound of skate blades cutting into the ice and sticks hitting the ice was oddly nice to listen to. The chill of being this close to the rink was oddly comforting as well.

  You didn’t have to sit with as many journalists as you did two days prior. You guessed it was because this practice wasn’t as important. Hell, you had been debating on whether or not you were going too.

  After practice was over, you waited outside the locker room just as you had before. It took them longer to let you in this time, but you didn’t have a problem with it. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to be after this anyway.

  When you were finally permitted to enter the locker room, you walked in and were pleased to be met with a small wave and a bright smile from J.T. You waved back and smiled back, not quite matching his smile, but smiling nonetheless. You were going to walk over to J.T. but stopped walking briefly as you looked over and saw Quinn. He was looking at you, but not exactly acknowledging your presence. It was almost as if he were looking straight through you. You wanted to say something, but you remained silent.

  You settled on rolling your eyes. It was almost an instinct to do such. You didn’t even really think about it before you did it. Quinn didn’t seem fazed and that pissed you off more than him looking through you had pissed you off to begin with.

  You walked over to where J.T. stood with Elias and Brock. They all had smiles on their faces. You were sure they’d seen your reaction to Quinn, but you didn’t really care all that much. J.T. was quick to “introduce” you to Elias and Brock, even though you’d already met them two days ago. Granted, you had met them pretty formally, and J.T. wasn’t introducing them formally.

  “I know you have some questions to ask, but, Y/n, this is Boes,” J.T. said, pointing to Brock, “And this is Petey,” he said, patting Elias on the back lightly.

  “We met briefly,” You said with a soft chuckle. It didn’t take long for J.T. to comment.

  “Yeah, briefly,” He said dramatically, “This is a friendly meeting.”

  Brock bowed extravagantly as if he were a knight meeting a queen and this felt so unprofessional and yet so fucking fun. Elias went the more professional route, opting to stick out his hand in a handshake. You took Elias’s hand, shaking it and Brock fauxed offense that you didn’t react to his bow.

  “He gets a handshake and I’m not even acknowledged?!” Brock asked incredulously, his jaw almost on the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Brock,” You said with a small laugh. “Your bow was very…impressive?” You said and it came out as more of a question than a statement.

  Brock’s face dropped and he made a pout with his lips. He glared at you, keeping up with the dramatic act for a surprising amount of time. “That sounded genuine,” he deadpanned sarcastically.

  “Oh, it very much was,” You replied, just as sarcastic as he had.

  You could feel eyes on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you felt this welcomed. You were a reporter coming in to ask them a bunch of questions and you were being welcomed. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced before. These linemates were smiling and laughing with you. This team really was like a family.

Taglist: @ru-kru

[mockerycrow]

super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3

i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!

Thank you so much and congratulations!

YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]

YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.

You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.

You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.

“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.

It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.

“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.

“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“

You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—

You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.

The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.

“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”

You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.

[smooth-perceval]

A holiday promise.

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: it was Christmas time- unfortunately for the reader she wasn’t feeling the spirit when her boyfriend was being distant, little did she know he had a promise for her.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing? Some self doubt. Implied smut at the end but no smut included!

Key: Y/N (Your name) Y/L/N (Your Last name)

Word count: 1094

A/N: The longest I have written (for 12 day count down) andddd we’re posting 40 mins earlier so technically I posted a day early but we won’t discuss that 🥲

Lando had been different lately, I don’t know what I done- but it’s like he didn’t want to be around me… or he had a secret he was keeping from me.

And like any girl I doubted myself- and maybe him a little… there was days that he was my lando and there was days where I didn’t even know he existed.

—

The days were rounding closer, and closer to Christmas Day, and I clasped onto the fine strings of my heart that this guy would stay around at least for Christmas…

I mean we share the same apartment but yet felt like two strangers… and I miss him- today I declared I was sitting my lando down and getting our shit together- today was the make or break.

Taking a deep breath I braced myself for the conversation ahead of me. Stepping into our apartment I kicked my shoes off and tugged my coat along with it. “Lan you home?”

Silence… until I heard a little thud from down the hall. Signalling he was but just ignoring me.

“Lan… if you scare me… I swear to the heavens I will leave your ass quicker than a McLaren pit stop!” Shoulders tensed I round the corner, pausing in my step.

“Lan?” Eyes trailing over the fake snow along our hallway floor. “Did you decorate without me?!” A gasp falling off my lips, I practically stomped down the hallway.

“You promised you wouldn’t!!”

“I hate talking to myself right now.”

“Lando Norris we need to-”

There he stood infront of the tall glass balcony doors, candles surrounding the entire lounge, the fake snow scattered around on the floor… clearly he ran out of snow half way through but it still looked magical, a mixture of the moon and the candles bouncing off his face. He looked pretty.

“Need to what?” A teasing smile was on his face, and I finally took in his appearance.

A plain black top and some joggers, pure white socks (with a lot of fake snow stuck to him but we won’t talk about that) and a small velvet box in hand.

“Needed to talk… what is going on- is this what I think this is?” My eyes welled with tears as I stood in the doorway slightly.

4 meters away from him and out of touch.

“What do you think this is?” My hand clasped over my mouth as I violently shook my head. “Words, use your words bubs.”

Silent tears fell on my cheeks as my hands slid down soothing my churning stomach. “You want to get married?” Whispering over to him, I embraced my arms around myself trying to stop the excitement and butterflies.

“Once I ask you then yes.” Laughing a little he nudged his head signalling for me to come over.

But I couldn’t move I was stuck in place. The only thing I could do was ball like a baby, Lando rushed over having a little giggle to himself wiping away my tears with his thumbs as best as possible, “hey, hey… it’s okay-” tilting my head back slightly, his eyes board into mine before dropping to one knee.

“Oh my-” sniffling I looked up at the ceiling before finding the courage to looked down at him, body still shaking like a leaf.

“You always said you didn’t want some huge proposal… said you preferred it being more intimate, nothing out the crazy- just two people declaring their love for one and another.” Nodding my head to everything he was saying I felt myself laugh a little. “You’re not the guy to do some huge proposal anyways.”

“Do you want me to ask you orrr?” A teasing smile crept back to his face, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Please ask me.”

After a brief pause, us both stopping the little giggles, he then took another deep breath before continuing. “Well here I am, down on one knee declaring to love and care for you for as long as you want me, hopefully till death do us part.” Laughing again a little he then shuffled slightly on his knee.

A choked laugh left my lips- but I couldn’t control myself from being a blubbering mess, sinking down to my knees infront of him, gripping his kneeled knee for security and support. “Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” And I froze once again.

Just staring at the man I love… this was all the reasons why for the last few months- it was all leading to this… I thought he’d leave me before Christmas… but yet here he was asking to love me.

“You really want to marry me?” Smiling at him, I squeezed his knee holding back another weep.

“It would be my honour.”

“Then yes Lando Norris, I will marry you.”

His eyes widen slightly, it took him a moment to realise what answer I had given. Before he sprung into action. I say sprung, we both watched his shaky hands take the beautiful ring out, before taking my hand in his and placing it on my finger. And only then did it feel real- it was a weird sensation, once that ring was on my finger it was like a wave of relief, love, security- everything washed over me.

In a split second his lips were on mine, eager yet tender- urgent yet full of love… business men share handshakes to secure a deal- lovers share sweet kisses to secure theirs, it was a sealed deal between me and Lando- for better for worse, till death do us part.

“I thought you were going to leave me…” mumbling against his lips, a little smile playing on mine.

“How could I ever.”

“I’ve been asking myself that continuously the past month, I didn’t believe you would.” Whispering feverishly lips now barely brushing as we pulled away. Leaning back we both basked in each others presence.

“Oh my camera!” Jumping up he quickly ran across the room, kicking snow everywhere.

“You recorded this?” A wide smile was on my face as I started to get up off the floor.

“Max didn’t believe I’d do it. I now have proof.”

Rolling my eyes I moved over to him as he toyed with the camera in hand. “Remind me why I said yes.”

“I can show you instead…” wiggling his brows at me I shook my head giggling.

“Please leave the camera in this room-” laughing also he set the camera down wrapping me up in his arms before whisking me away- sealing our holiday promise another way.

[butchdiaz]

ask for essays on tommy's nerves have essays on tommy's nerves delivered directly to your doorstep!!! sorry in advance for the length and incoherency of this ask because lou's acting choices genuinely make me feel deranged, we are so lucky to have him.

exhibit a: the hand on the chin when buck opens the door. he's thought about this so carefully you can tell from the moment he enters the scene. and i don't even mean the kiss. i don't think tommy knew that was going to happen until approx. five seconds before it did. but he wants to get this conversation right.

exhibit b: the fucking breathlessness when he says "we can talk" (yes we're still not even in the loft yet). like that is the breathlessness of a man seeing whom he assumes is his emotionally unavailable big boy crush and realising he's going to have to smooth things over between him and the man most likely making him unavailable to tommy. (it's also just tommy seeing big beefy tank buckley and getting a little flustered methinks)

exhibit c (moving actually into the loft now): obsessed, deeply deeply obsessed with the way buck removes the obstacle of the kitchen island between them and tommy immediately crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to put it back between them subtly because he still doesn't think he's allowed to Want.

exhibit d: the way he literally cannot look at buck as buck starts moving in closer quite literally makes me want to rip my hair out. like baby, you're allowed to look i promise, i swear.

exhibit e: the breakout of the laugh to full seriousness as he commits to the "i'm renowned for my fake mouth static" is so special to me because. i have done that. i have committed to a bit that was perhaps a bit too revealing/suggestive with my heart pounding as a way of testing the waters. and then the relieved amusement of his "cmon hey" when buck plays into it.

exhibit f: the way tommy looks at buck when buck's giving his little "threw in with us no hesitation" speech is so. that man is ANCHORING his eyes to buck's eyes. he's still not allowed to look, he is being respectful, he is overcompensating, he is FIGHTING for his life.

exhibit g: his tiny little smile when buck mentions the tour. you wanted to see me? 🥺

exhibit h: the fucking recoil when buck says he wanted to get to know him. the disbelief. the oh. the maybe i can have this.

exhibit i: the slow drop of his smile the more time buck spends mentioning eddie (which btw why is that line so long fuck off buck stand up!!) thinking oh never mind.

exhibit j: "i could teach you" with that bashful little shrug of his shoulders. i could teach you if you'd let me.

exhibit k: the realisation that sinks in after buck says about flying lessons. he wants to spend time with me, he's moving closer. oh shit, i'm allowed, i'm allowed, i'm allowed. the seriousness. the i have to make him understand i want him. the first time he lets his eyes drop to buck's lips.

exhibit l: my attention? one last check. one last check just to make sure. i can want this, i can want him.

exhibit m: his little kind of glassy-eyed smile between "i did maim my best friend" and "my sister". he is not listening to a word buck says. he is making a decision. a terrifying decision, but he's already made it.

exhibit n (typed through tears lol): the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls away. buck is opening his but tommy squeezes his shut harder. he doesn't want to see the disgust on buck's face. he's bracing for rejection. he's hoping, hoping, hoping.

exhibit o: the breathlessness of "like that?" please tell me that was okay, please tell me that's allowed, please please please. the clench of his jaw as he waits for buck's answer, the slight nod like he's confirming something to himself.

exhibit p: the smile when it sinks in that buck wants this. the smile before the immediate "so that was okay?" just needing that verbal confirmation for buck, yeah, but also for himself.

and then for me it's the complete shift in tommy's demeanour after buck confirms it's okay. he goes from this quiet, hesitant, reserved tommy to this confident, flirty, little bit sensual tommy the moment he's allowed. cross town traffic 🫦 came in a car this time 😏. it's just such a wild switch up but it makes so much sense because the nerves have gone. he's allowed to want. (jesus got halfway through the alphabet sorry)

SAMI IM GONNA SCREAM BRB TIME TO WATCH THIS SCENE SIDE BY SIDE W UR ANALYSIS THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fatecantstopme]

The Wink

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky reveals how he really feels about you through a series of winks and an answer to a question you never wanted to ask.

Warnings: SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Aftercare. Small bits of fluff. Slight body issues (Bucky hates his scars). Feelings about being used for sex. Use of pet names.

"You're an idiot," you said with a laugh.

"Maybe, but this was entirely your idea."

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. "It was your idea, James."

He cocked his head to the side as if he was deciding if he agreed with you or not. He took another swig of his beer and shrugged. "It's possible that you're right." He held up a dart and shook it in front of you. "So you gonna take the bet or not?"

You grabbed the dart from his hand and grinned. "You're still an idiot." You threw the dart and it hit the board with expert precision. "Are you sure you wanna take the bet?" you teased.

Hr grinned and stepped forward, throwing his own dart at the board. It was an instant bullseye. "Oh doll, I'm gonna win this one." He winked as he teased you.

You groaned, knowing you were probably going to regret this later. You threw the dart again, aim pretty good, but certainly not a bullseye. "Shit."

Bucky threw his bullseye a second time. He turned to look at you, shooting you a wink as he grabbed his drink. "Your turn, doll."

"You can't win, Barnes."

"I'm pretty sure the game is mine, sweets."

You bit your lip and turned to face the board again. You knew that losing wasn't an option. You took a deep breath and threw your last dart, sinking it right in the bullseye. "Yes!!"

Bucky smiled and threw his last dart. "Ooo, bullseye number three, doll. Looks like I win." He winked at you again before setting his drink down and leaning closer to you. "So now you have to answer my question."

"What was your question again?" you asked in a light tone, trying to give yourself more time to formulate a better answer.

"If you could only save one person's life on the team, who would you choose?"

It was the question you never wanted to think about, let alone answer. If it came down to it, who would you pick? Whose life did you value more? Could you even pick between your teammates--your friends? Hell, every single one of them was more like family...how could you pick one family member to save?

The problem is, you knew your answer. You knew it from the moment Bucky had first asked the question 20 minutes prior. You'd refused to answer, thinking he would just let it go, but you should have known better. Instead, he made a wager...putting the answer to his question on a game darts. A game you had lost.

You could answer him honestly, but that terrified you beyond belief. You could lie to him instead, but that had its own risks. It was a rock and a hard place scenario and he knew he had you.

"I can't choose, Buck," you complained.

"It's hypothetical!"

"I know, but I love all of you. How could I possibly choose?"

"I chose," he said simply.

Your mind wandered back to a mission from three weeks before. The mission where Bucky had saved your life...

The room suddenly lit up, the muzzle of a gun flashing brightly as a bullet shot from it. The gun was pointed at you and you knew you were about to die. You could practically feel the end racing towards you at the speed of a bullet. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain, but it never came. Your eyes opened to a scene you'd never imagined seeing.

Bucky stood in front of you, his gun firing off a round as he dropped to his knees. His bullet hit his target, killing the Hydra agent instantly. When Bucky hit the ground, you hit it with him, coming to his front to assess the damage.

"Bucky!" your eyes scanned his body, panic settling into your chest. He was bleeding, but he looked alright.

"I'm fine, doll. It's just a shoulder wound."

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you jump in front of me?"

"Because you wouldn't have survived it. And I couldn't live with that," he said softly.

He wasn't wrong. That bullet would have killed you. While it only pierced his shoulder, it would have hit you directly in the head, killing you instantly.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Anything for you, doll," he said with a wink.

Back in the present, you shook your head, clearing the memories from your mind. "That's not the same, Buck. I'd die for any one of you. That's much different than picking which one of you to save."

He shook his head. "You didn't see the whole thing. I didn't just save your life, I chose yours over Sam's."

You froze, trying to picture the moments before the gun went off, but the room had been so dark...you hadn't even seen Sam. "Sam's fine, though."

"Sam was fighting another Hydra agent when that one squared up with you. I saw him raise the gun at the same moment I saw Sam get pulled into a choke hold with a knife to his throat. I chose to save you."

You were silent, allowing his words to sink in. "I--I didn't know that. Sam never said anything."

"Sam got away moments later, so he never had a reason to bring it up."

"You just acted on instinct though."

"Perhaps, but I knew I would save you if it came down to it. I'd always choose you." He smiled and shot you another wink. It was the third one this evening alone and you were starting to wonder if they meant more than you'd originally thought.

Bucky was always winking at you. Sometimes jokingly, sometimes in a flirtatious manner, and sometimes even in a serious moment. They always made your heart flutter, but you didn't think they meant anything to him. Bucky was flirty, but he'd never made a move, so you assumed he wasn't interested.

"You still haven't answered my question, doll, and you do owe me an answer."

You took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine. I'd pick you, alright?" you said with a huff.

He looked surprised, but unconvinced. "Why? Because I picked you?"

You groaned, deciding to lay your cards out on the table, come what may. "No you idiot. Your stupid face popped into my head the moment you asked me the question, okay? I knew I'd pick you."

"Then why didn't you answer it the first time?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer."

"Ugh!" You sighed again. "I didn't say it because I didn't want to explain why it was you."

Bucky looked at you strangely. "You're not gonna make me ask, are you?"

"Damnit, James," you groaned. "I can't live without you, okay? There's no world worth being in if you're not in it."

You couldn't believe you'd just said that out loud, but here you were, heart laid bare, in the awkwardly quiet compound game room.

Bucky didn't say a word, but he wasn't speechless. He was simply contemplating his next move, weighing the consequences of his actions before he made them.

After a few more painfully silent moments, he grumbled "Fuck it," before crossing the short distance between you two and pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, yet passionate kiss.

You were surprised by the suddenness of his actions, but you melted into him without a second thought. The kiss was infinitely better than you had imagined, and you had done quite a lot of imagining.

When Bucky's lips left yours, you whined slightly, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you again.

"Sorry, doll. I've wanted to do that for ages."

"Well what you took you so long?" you asked.

He raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't sure you wanted me to. You never said anything either, you know. At least I dropped hints."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you please just kiss me again?"

He grinned and leaned back into you, mouth encompassing yours instantly. He loved the taste of your lips, the feeling of your tongue fighting against his, the way you gripped his arms like you were terrified he was going to disappear.

Bucky pulled away once more, the action almost painful. "Should we move this to my room? Anyone could see us here."

"Bit presumptuous of you, James," you teased.

He started to back peddle, a look of panic crossing his features. "Oh, I--uh--I didn't mean--"

You laughed. "I was teasing you, handsome. I'd love to move this elsewhere."

He relaxed, exhaling long and slow. "Thank god." He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you towards the elevator. "Come on."

"Buck, my legs are a lot shorter than yours, so can you slow down a little?" you asked as you jogged after him.

"Sorry, sweets." He turned towards you and scooped you up with ease before continuing to the elevator.

"What are you doing?"

"It's faster if I just carry you."

"Are we in a rush?"

He gave you an unreadable look. "Let's just say I've wanted you for so long that I actually might not be able to contain myself for much longer."

You smirked. "So you're gonna take me right here in this elevator?"

His eyes darkened. "Don't tempt me, baby, because I will."

You blushed. "I wouldn't say no..."

He looked like he was considering it for a moment before shaking his head to clear his dirty mind. "No, no. Our first time needs to be in a bed, where I can attend to your every need, not some dirty elevator."

You'd be lying if you said that the idea of him attending to your every need wasn't sexy as hell. The image of him on his knees for you sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

Bucky inhaled deeply and a low growl escaped his throat. "Fuck, you smell good."

You gasped, realizing he could actually smell your arousal...freaking super soldier senses.

The elevator door finally opened and Bucky practically ran towards his room. He pushed his door open and kicked it closed behind him before tossing you on the bed. He stepped away from you and took a few deep breaths.

"Bucky? You okay?" you asked in concern.

"I just need a minute, doll. Need to control myself."

"Why? I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be and you know it," he growled. "I could hurt you and I might if I lose control."

You crawled across the bed towards him, hand reaching out to him. "You're not going to hurt me, Buck. Just come here...please..."

His eyes met yours and you were taken aback by how dark they were. The normally bright blue irises were almost entirely hidden by his pupils, an almost feral look in them. It was an expression that might terrify a lesser woman, but you trusted Bucky with your life. That wasn't going to stop in the bedroom.

"Come here, baby," you whispered gently.

He let you take his arm and pull him towards the bed. He stopped when his legs touched the edge of the mattress. "I wanna be gentle with you, doll. Treat you right."

You cocked your head to the side as you took him in. "While I love that sentiment, Bucky, I don't need that. I need you and I'll take you in whatever form you come."

He groaned. "You're amazing."

You grinned. "Oh baby, you ain't seen nothing yet." You shot him a wink to emphasize your statement and he practically jumped on top of you, earning a squeal of delight from you.

He pinned you to the bed and started kissing you again as his hands began to undress you. His hands were fumbling with your shirt and he groaned in frustration before simply ripping it in two.

"Bucky!"

"I'm sorry, I'll buy you three to replace it," he mumbled, reattaching his lips to your skin.

He quickly rid you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a bralette that was arguably a little small for your chest.

Bucky sat back to take you in, eyes hungrily dancing across your body. He tapped the fabric between your breasts, "Is this expensive?"

You shook your head. "I have a couple more like it."

"Good," he said as he pulled a knife from his pants and slid it under the fabric, cutting the bralette in two. He cut the straps and tossed the ruined fabric onto the floor along with his blade.

You stared at him in a shocked silence, wetness seeping into your underwear. "That was hot as hell."

He grinned and inhaled deeply. "I can tell you liked it, pretty girl."

He grabbed your underwear and tugged them harshly down your legs. "Holy shit," he murmured, sliding a finger between your folds to collect your juices. "This all for me?"

"All for you, Bucky."

He licked his finger and groaned loudly. "Fuck, baby, you taste even better than I imagined."

He dropped to his stomach between your thighs, spreading your legs as wide as he could. He didn't bother to tease you, just dove right in, devouring you with a kind of hunger you'd never experienced.

You were a moaning mess in minutes, begging him not to stop, a plea he took to heart. When your orgasm hit, he worked you through it, never stopping to even take a breath.

You tugged on his hair and whimpered, but he kept going, needing to taste you for a little while longer. He wanted to feel you explode on his tongue again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Bucky--I'm so close, please," you gasped.

He dug his fingers into your hips and kept your pussy tight to his face, not letting you squirm away.

Moments later you came with a cry of his name, waves of pleasure making your hips buck against his face. He worked you through it, only stopping when you begged him to give you a break.

He lifted his head, giving you a view of his slick covered beard. "I could eat that pretty pussy all day long, baby." He licked his lips. "Tastes so damn good."

You whimpered softly and reached for him, wanting to kiss him again. He wiped his face on his shirt before tugging it off over his head and lowering his body back down to yours. You held him close as you kissed him, fingers lightly tracing the scars on his left shoulder.

You felt his body stiffen under your hands and you pulled away to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he murmured.

"Hey," you said softly, grabbing his chin to force him to look at you. "Talk to me."

He sighed heavily. "I'm just not used to anyone touching my scars."

"Oh," you said in surprise, pulling your hand away from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Shit--no, that's not what I meant. Most women tend to avoid them. I know they're not pretty to look at."

"I think they're beautiful."

He looked at you as if you were insane.

"I'm serious, Bucky. Each one tells a unique story of your life. They're a part of you and that makes them beautiful to me."

His eyes softened and you could have sworn you saw the ghost of a tear slide down his cheek. "I don't deserve you," he whispered.

"Oh hush. That's not for you to decide." You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him over with surprising ease. "If we had more time, I'd kiss every single one of your scars until you believed me, but we don't."

His eyes widened. "Are we in a rush, baby?" he teased, echoing your earlier statement.

You grinned. "If I don't get your cock in me soon, I may never recover."

"We can't let that happen, so we better get to it."

He helped you remove his pants, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. His bulge was massive and your mouth was watering in anticipation. You gripped the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down slowly, allowing his cock to spring free.

You inhaled sharply as you took in the massive erection before you, a slight panic settling into your bones at the thought of having something that large inside of you.

As if he sensed your panic, Bucky chuckled lightly and said, "Don't worry, baby. It'll fit."

"I don't think so."

He grinned. "We'll make it fit."

You looked up at him with what you hoped was a neutral expression. Concern immediately clouded his face, so you knew you'd failed miserably.

"Hey doll, it's okay. I'll go nice and slow, alright? I'll be gentle."

You nodded and took a deep breath. You positioned yourself directly above his painfully erect cock and began to lower yourself down very slowly.

Bucky gripped your hips tightly, making sure to guide you as slowly as he could manage. You both moaned as he began to enter you, the stretch causing you to dig your nails into his chest.

"I've got you," he whispered.

You tried to lower yourself further, but Bucky's grip on your hips kept you from moving. He meant it when he said he wanted to be as gentle as possible.

"I can take it, Buck. Let me try," you murmured.

He looked at you and nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but he loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to take control.

You took a deep breath, deciding to handle this like removing a band-aid--just get it over with. You sat down on top of him, sheathing his entire cock within your tight walls.

You cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, body stretched in ways it had never been stretched before.

Bucky groaned loudly, almost covering your cry. He looked at you with wide eyes, checking to see if you were okay.

Your body was acclimating to his size and you were becoming desperate the longer he remained still. "Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need you to fuck me--please."

He gripped your hips again and started to move slowly, letting you match his pace.

"I'm not made of glass," you grumbled.

He looked up at you in surprise. "What?"

"You're not going to break me, Bucky. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, understand?"

He nodded rapidly, eyes darkening once more. "Are you sure?"

"Fuck. Me. Now." you demanded.

He wasn't going to deny you such a request. He shifted his body, planted his feet on the bed, and began to piston up into you with speed and force.

"Fuck!" you gasped, the pleasure slamming into you like a freight train.

"You're so tight, doll. Feels so good wrapped around my cock."

Bucky was giving you exactly what you'd asked for and you loved it. The tip of his cock brushed your cervix with every thrust, the whisper of pain only adding to your enjoyment.

"Squeezing me so tight, baby. You gonna cum for me? Gonna make a mess on my cock?"

You whimpered and nodded rapidly, your third orgasm of the night creeping up on you. "Feels so good, Buck."

"I know, baby. It's like heaven--could stay here forever."

Your fingernails were digging crescent shapes into his chest as you clung to him, unable to do anything more than moan and gasp his name. "Please," you whimpered.

He knew exactly what you were asking for, so he didn't slow down or alter his movements. He continued to pound into you until you came with a cry of his name, pussy pulsating around his cock.

"Fuck!" he gasped. "Fuck--baby--shit, you've gotta stop that or I'm not gonna last."

"Can't help it," you mumbled. "Feels so good."

"I know pretty girl." He pulled you down to his chest and held on tightly as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to get a better angle.

By this stage, your body was hyper-sensitive and you could feel every single movement he made.

His hips began to move again and his fingers caressed every part of you he could reach. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he fucked you. "Can you give me one more, sweets?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"You sure, doll? I think my pussy can do it." He changed his angle, giving him the ability to hit your g-spot with each thrust, as if to punctuate his sentence.

You moaned loudly and clenched tightly around him, eliciting a groan from his lips.

"I think she can give me one more, baby. My pussy--treating me so good--gonna make sure she feels good too."

You moaned again, nails clawing at his back as he fucked you.

"Yeah? You like that, huh?" he groaned into your ear. "Who's pussy is this, baby?"

"You--yours," you gasped out.

"That's right, doll. It's mine."

He knew you were getting close, so he slid his left hand down between your bodies, using his finger to gently massage your clit.

"Bucky!" you gasped.

"You gonna cum for me again, sweets?"

"So close," you whispered.

"I know, doll."

Three more thrusts and you were falling into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave crashing into you. You were barely aware of Bucky chasing his own high, the crest of your pleasure blinding you to anything else.

Bucky came with a low groan of your name, spilling his seed deep within you. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of you, body shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm.

You laid like that for several minutes before Bucky finally shifted, rolling off of you and leaving you cold and empty. You reached for him almost instinctively, but he wasn't beside you.

You whimpered softly, looking around the room for him. He appeared from the bathroom holding a washcloth, a look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I didn't know where you went," you whispered sheepishly.

He looked sad. "Just wanted to get a nice warm washcloth to clean you up with, doll."

"Oh."

He very gently began to clean you up, hands surprisingly soft. "I've got you, doll. I'm here."

You felt kind of foolish...you were simply used to be treated differently by men. You'd always been the girl they'd fuck and leave, none of them ever stayed long enough to even make sure you'd cum, let alone clean you up after. It was wrong of you to assume that Bucky was the same.

When he was done, he tossed the washcloth to the floor and crawled back into the bed, pulling you into his chest. "Wanna tell me what's wrong, sweets?"

"I'm--I'm just not used to aftercare, that's all. I...I thought you left."

"It's my room," he teased softly, laying a kiss on top of your head. "Besides, I'd much rather hold you after sex than lay in an empty bed."

You looked up at him, taking in his disheveled appearance and eyes so full of love it almost hurt to look at them. "Thank you, Bucky."

His brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For being you," you said simply, placing a soft kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, the one he got from saving your life.

"Anything for you, doll. Anything for you."